DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, draftz:;;;;;;;;;

I aspire for the horizon of hope
for hope itself
for it
I hope for the best
still the best itself
I am not aspiring for
I shall wish for it
aspire for it
yet shall I not live it
shall I see it from afar
yet never the to-be engrossed
in the mist of it
in the midst of it all
because
the moment of the fall
of the horizon into a sky of whole
the full picture of the reached hope
of the so-called they call
(let's say I call it a pit hole,
according to your missed time)
with that
I won't know how to breathe
in it within
in it anymore
it would be the crash of dreams
the mist of the fatal breeze
the one of free
the midst of flee
the place to be
but I know
that it is not
not even a to-be close
for this being for me,
for the shackles of the horizon
remains a reminisce of its remains
the talked about antiquity delivering past trace
a once past trail
that would hail
the almightiness of me
the above golden flee
of authenticity
upon the inauthentic gleam
so if the verge shall I see
shall it be
the ****
the death
the doom
of me
if it shall be the homogeneity
of some picked up pieces
from the heterogeneous scene
the one that created a place
a sphere
a haven
the raven's nest you see
then the question I attest
is the one lingering behind
for what I've wished
to abide
was for the best
so to the one who differentiates
a 'conscience's voice'
where does that turning point locate?
allocate me, d'accord?
from your grave
                                                           ­                                  ------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, for M.H.K. :)

I sat
startled by the dead rock
talked to its wind, responding with a nod
chatting:
I suppose people out of date
out of stock
been looked at so questioned
what should

a promise I shook
hands with to keep for
good, to keep for worse
already knowing the door handle if the
door stood up for a logical force

for the familiarity to
pertain, individuality speaking about protectiveness of a sword
I suppose myself aware of purple
leaves in certain
to keep the looped
downfall, truly to the word

flipping through leftover
meals to minds sold
experience essenced of trailed up
thought after the show
footsteps pressing footsteps to
the underworld living for one
demolished, two-thirds to go

                                                             ------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, it is the leap of the known knows of the unknowns:)

be the wither
be the pain
I've written the
wholes of
that one pathed tenth trench and
paced lane of an ever
a ten a twelfth of three sixes
an ever
again, I'd come to come
through in neat shall
the pleasure of today is the same of the
pleasure
of that year

now come
my memory into the eye
onto the foreseen
one through an eye

for the written to them shall
burn to the past to
commit lie
draining my pen
onto the forges
of day in
sublime tortures
dimming my life my tent swallowed by
a fox
a god's a falcon's a once sought
eye

so trace my words I write
here I write have written today for
they shall be past of some lesson of
a mean just the same tell
them to read tell them to listen well
indeed for a poet's riddles shall
trick and deceive tellers the
tortures till moons till
the one till of hell

                                                                   -----ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, who's watching me now?: I'm not liking the capitals:)

I don't like people seeing me think
I feel exposed----
to the lots
of the knows
It's like they're reading my mind
they're reading my thoughts
It's like they're reading my lines
they're reading my poems
It's like they're reading my rhymes
they're reading my tone

But I know that they're not watching
it's just a mindless look
But I know that they're not
when they can't see behind my lots
But I know that they're not
when they throw off comments
shooting their shots
in ******* me off
in slaughtering nods
in not ending with dots
in being a being of a being bot
& confinement is their knot
when their tongues are off dirt
& a look is now a flirt
& the means to being humane
is one luxurious walk in a desert
& the question is an alert
gotta be sane in here by effort

Who's watching who?
Who's watching me now?
You have to be reserved
or else you pay for the blurt?
Get yourself onto the lane
or else a doom of an inert
so 'go ahead,
I support dancing :
just not under the rain'
sorry you'll stain?
so go
go
go
go compose yourself to the knows
drink your tea
keep it nursed
do it all
all rehearsed
die of life
die of thirst
don't count me, me don't assert
me no insert
in your park
in your scene
in your perch
Go get your tickets
go buy your theme
to that seat
to that concert
of the so called dream
                                                           ­                                ------ravenfeels

survival mode Liban
the logos of the statement just like any other
some curse it like it's some occasion
maybe it just needed a vocation
instead of the maybe
so the intelligence of its diction comes at cost
that one of its mind jailing mine
the ability of writing today is the lack of writing tomorrow
why does it have to be
for the words
to be a hostage
of the momentum of a pen
the golden age of today for me is the golden age of tomorrow
again with the maybe
or maybe not
already noted a 'useless' spot
the older I get the smaller I feel
from the exposure to the lots of the real
the younger I was the bigger I felt
from here
from the bubble of the lots of the real

                                                           ­                                -------ravenfeels