Think.
Yes, think about this question.
Do women of the world needs a man book to advise them?
When they had a mother.

Who can advise them better?

A player's can place himself in your shoes.
And offer all his personal views.
Except, they using themselves as the tool.
Or writing upon the things they use to do.

In songs written about love affairs.
It was always the mom advising them.

Mama said there'll be days like this.
Or you can't hurry love.
Even, to her son she advised him to shop around.

So, what can a book perpective from a man do for them?

If you need a man's view.
Then speak to your dad.
He know the game.
He know the schemes.
And would be enraged if you hurt his daughter.
Now, this a father.
Who doesn't have to write a book?

Mybe, it's just me.
Love advices comes better from someone with truth.
And who should know better?
Then those that gave vision to you.

Always afraid of the future,
I fear what it might bring...
Life can turn to a scary adventure,
But to my hopes I prefer to cling...

Life is full of surprises,
Everyday yet another situation...
There might be lack of advices,
But it never forbids a solution...

My hands without doubts will tremble,
Life will hit hard to give me pain...
Despite of the agony I'll be unbeatable,
Until I stand up and hit back again...

So many years of ignorance,
But only now I came to understand...
I will never fail to advance,
Until after each fall I once again stand....

Pass up until you have it
Wait up until you need it
Tell me the password
I’ll show you and light it up

Give me a valid reason
Inhale until you’re weezing
What are the magic words
Flunked conversations

You have the pedigree
I’ll stay up until your free
Blank revelations
Song inspiration

Pass up until you need it
Don’t rush you’ll have to save it
Tell me the password
I’ll show you and light it up.

They give you lame advices
Trippin’ the lane you’re passing
Timely decisions
They’re on a mission

Talkative boy’s on fire
He gets the double score
He does no picking
Swimming on double rivers
—

I’m just another option
The secondary mission
When he’s out partying
Practically speaking

Pass up until you need it
Wait up until you got it
Tell me the password
I’ll show you and fire it up

Give me a valid reason
Inhale until you’re weezing
What are those magic words
Anticipating

Stay put your inner spirits
Hit it until you miss it
What is the password
Tell me the magic words

My life is very tragic
One hundred percent logic
No fun and happy games
To feed your spirit

Show me your hidden feelings
Give me a point for living
Anticipations
And convolutions

—
Pass up until you say it
Wait up until you keep it
Tell me the password
I’ll show you and light it up

Give me a valid lesson
Inhale until you’re teasing
What are the magic words
Dumped conversations

Never to be belonging
Clingy from floor to ceiling
Am I assuming
This love is blooming?

I’ll take you up the mountains
Reserve a room what happens
I don’t initiate
The pathway to heavens

You may be here just wond’ring
Why are we doing nothing
I am a loser
But never a user

Now you’re showing your body
You are getting too naughty
Tell me the password
I’ll keep it then light it up

—
Igniting the inner senses
Decluttering all the messes
What is the password
Tell me, I’ll act it up

Pass up until you see it
Wait up until you touch it
Tell me the password
I’ll show you and fire it up

A
Business man
Lost everything in business
has little money
Surrounded by troubles
we advices him to
move to village
take agriculture
deep inside the village
Coz
the advantage of agriculture
it offers maximum self-sufficiency
and also
provides maximum isolation
from the so called
cunning world..

Why do I have to fall in love?
Why can't I just I just stop?
Tell me God from above
Why can't he be a slop?

Why is he a gentleman?
Why does he listen well?
But he's a ladies man
And I just fell

He doesn't feel the same
Yet he sympathizes
Doesn't put me to shame
Even gives advices

Love is twisted
Not the kindest
Maybe gifted
Even to the wisest

Most of us are familiar with
The escapism from pain.

For an easy and cheap solution
Or because of advices of the
Doctors, psychologs;
Most of us get a cheap piece of matter
Triggering the oscillation of dopamine,
Making most of us addicted to them
As well as being harmed
As the result of their side effects.

Even the teens intoxicate things
Causing these things.

Some of call this signalling matter
Nicotine or alcohol.
Others call drugs as well as
Medicines having great side effects on
Our psychology that means
Our minds, feelings and importantly
Our souls.

How these piece of matter
Deletes your pain?
Simply, by affecting your
Biologic structure.

This causes the cage of
Emotions and behaviours
Freezing your actions and thoughts
As well as mostly
The cage itself.

This stabilization of actions therefore,
Decreases the capability of
Varying the actions.

What you can do,
You are capable to do.
Capacity is the power.

Lesser power lesser creativity.
All in all
Nothing more than robotic step
You all do in all.

By lesser creativity,
What you do becomes
Completely addiction.
No good, no bad;
Only the robotic step
You all do.

So subject becomes object of
External distraction.
In the hellish world,
You are distracted to hell.

A piece of addictive matter
Ends with
Painful robotic suffering
Until you fade away.

But the music, music, music
Is the harmonious effective vibes of
Yourself.

This music can do anything,
Instead of freezing you only if an only.
This music can do anything,
By transforming the self by
Twisting you through making you
Its beautiful voice.

We classify the music
In account of its causes.
But material cause is not the music.
Instead, the elegance of meaning
As well as the shining effect
Is the music.

It is the music that will
Create the best in us!
Make the best of us!
Hold the best of us!

Than you may say,
I want music but this is poetry.

Than I say,
Poetry is the music of the words.

It is the music of life
Will the shining ray of creativity.
It is the music of life
Will the kingdom of heaven.

Its the nectar in form of music
Being the music of nectar,
Becoming the nectar of the music!

Music creating music
In seem of poem.
Catch it, follow it!
Better than any drugs.

Music creating music
In seem of poem.
Say it! Sing it!
Better than anything!

It is the best, you desire!
We call it, you are welllllllllll...

and all these years
they told you that heartbreak would be
not being able to do anything;
crying most of the days;
not being ok for a long time;
being able to hear the sound of your heart breaking;
'the heart break syndrome', they would say.
'time heals', everyone promised.
'this too shall pass', everyone whispered.
'it will strengthen you', they encouraged.

what they did not tell you
was that
heartbreak would make you do the unthinkable.
crying on your bathroom floor during shower.
muffling your crying on your pillow.
trying to explore yourself.
meditate, read books, watch movies, writing.
waking up with puffy eyes.
and have to go on like nothing happened.
lock yourself in your own room at night when you get home.
laying awake staring at the ceiling.
counting on what you did wrong.
replaying every scenes.
endless pool of tears -
those kind that make you really tired;
not the sleepy kind of tired,
but the 'God-please-end-this' kind of tired.
praying to God to please just end this
for you cannot take more pain.
asking God on what you had done wrong in life
to deserve this kind of pain.
do i even still believe in God?

they did not tell you that heartbreak
change your perspective in life.
that it would feel like you are suffocating;
unable to breath.
where is the air?
even when you sleep,
you wake up and dreaming about him again.
the desperation to end it;
that you would google
'how to deal with heartbreak'
or the desperation to ask people for help.
but you know it's useless
and you don't want to be a burden.
or when you hear others telling you about their relationship
and you can not even give them any advices anymore.
'i used to be so good at giving advices', you think to yourself.
but now not anymore.

they did not tell you that heartbreak
would make you numb
when you are surrounded by people.
the way you get yourself throughout the day
and do the daily routines
laughing,
do random things,
being weird;
'you are still the same old you even after all these things', they would say.
'no i'm not', you tell yourself.
even when your heart is broken
or the way
you would act like you had never got your heart broken
or the way
others would tell you their problems
and you have to act
like you are okay
and you have none

they did not tell you that heartbreak
would make you feel this useless
like how you suddenly think of
'i am so broken'
and yet you could not
even think
of telling anyone
because of how pointless it would be
'what's the use? they don't get it like i do', you would think.

they did not tell you that heartbreak
would take this long to heal
'time heals', i used to say
'this too shall pass', i used to tell my friend.
but now
i am not so sure anymore.
time heals, they say.
*well, i'm still waiting for the time mine would heal

Gatsby saw a green light across the sea;
I see a red one in-between the trees,
And hear your frightened callings and pleas,
Your vocal desires to again see
The missing love you desperately need,
The love that gently hides within the reeds
Watching and waiting, so fiercely it feeds
Like the stalker hiding up in the tree.
But I am not the twisted, sick ******,
And I did not ask you for "your prices," --
In my defense, everything was hazy.
I was at home and should have remained there
And listened to my father's advices
When he warned me not to fall for crazy.

****** darling
You pretty much own this helpless heart
Knock on wood
Because every time I plan to despairingly sit
I end up fallaciously understood
Desire one and get two
Because my personal algebraic anomaly
Leads me
Then leaves me
All but a clue of what to do
Which lane to travel in
Nor which direction to go
But why not follow nature’s advices
The basic instincts, intuitions
Institutions and devices
Of this heart
But, this is just I
Feeling completely unplugged
I’m simply praying my anatomy will prevent the falling part
Of falling in love

Risk your life out for the crowd
And you get nothing
But more rebels and jealous people
And you get trapped

Controversies made up from nowhere
You still lonely and cry inside
When you try to hear from positive sides
You get stalled by lots of advices

If you respect your people
Don't expect anyone bless you

She's her own landscape                              
No illusions                                        
Spends her time hustling                      
On the emptiness of matresses                                  

She looks for the essence
Mirror's Mystery
Following her own advices

Protects her beauty
Shows her wierdness
Royal and unharmed

She looks for a vibration
The sweet connection
The eyes that will kiss her

Child of imperfections

Innocent without a reason.

She risked on trying a new experience,
An experience that came without permission,
Permission if she would allow it at the moment.
But still, it didn't matter to her.

She was so into the situation,
Gave so much time and effort
Even if, her sleep would be disturbed.
But still, it didn't matter to her.

She invested so much of her emotions,
Gave much care and attention
Even if, she was not efforted back.
But still, it didn't matter to her.

She spoke about love and its emotions,
Asked and gave advices about it
Even if, she was doubtful about it.
But still, *it didn't matter to her.

She was the one to tell me about the rules that the game included, about how to not only play but even win the game.

The so called game "Love"

She made me a list of tips and tricks.

1 the person you think about when you stand infront of the ocean,
is your true love.

2 the person you think about when it's 2 am and you are laying in bed,
is your true love.

3 the person you text when your mind is drunk and your eyes are drowned,
is your true love.

She did not go further than these 3, because most people playing were satisfied with only 1.

She told me to be careful and to be pacient, but she also told me to be very strict in handeling these tricks.

She watched me as I played and remained silent when needed, but after many waisted chances she walked up to me.

She asked me 'what's the matter, why aren't you winning?' the poor little thing did not know why her advices could not prevent me from failing.

She yelled and cried and did everything she could, until she finally gave up and left me with the words, 'I think you need to proceed the game without me'

She  left thinking that she would never return.

She must have found it weird to get my texts, but came as i asked her to.
'Why did you text me' she yelled to me.
'Because my mind is drunk and my eyes are drowned' I replied.
'Where are we' she asked me. ' Infront of the ocean' I answered.
'What time is it' she wondered  'Almost 2 am' I whispered.  

She slowly stepped towards me.
'Why didn't you try the game' she cried to me.'
And that's when I told her.
I told her 'Because I have already won it when I met you'

Light the Endearing Youth she introduce
Of Trouble Death's Warrant I cannot spell
Meet me this haply; Your Mind I deduce
Transform a Stranger to a Friend so well
I know you Love him. In Degree of Soul
That a Year's Promotion is not enough
The Author advices his Name; In Truth
So merry comfort your Will to adopt
See? Now he prepares for his Loved Event
Inspired by the Contract for his Dad
If I were you, wear those Sprint-Shoes you spent
And chase the Best Moment you ever had.
Once it's done, come set your feet by this stool
And let me rub-in some Herbs to be cool.

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She has a core
A focus, her focus is real
But her focus is gone
Her focus violently said No
Her meaning went off

She hasn't been ripped
She's a vacant impulse
Her focus is dislocated
how wrong
How sad to see her heart!

Her focus won't come back
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts
Love opens doors and closes them behind
Her focus won't let her be
She frantically fights, advices not to love too much
because she did
She puts up with my glory and feeds me still
Because her glory is gone,
When your focus points to a dead end street
I can feel you girl, your tragedy of love
When the meaning is gone,
And you chase the sun desperately
But the sun is not enough
The sun doesn't shine as bright
The sun is dimmed, simply not calling out your name
The sun lacks something, you run away
And everything is pointless today, even the sun rays

Voices of people giving unsolicited advices on how to live my life echo loudly as I make my way to the end of the tunnel; and yet, no light has been found, rather, the voices become deafening as I continue my journey.

I look around in the pitch black tunnel, the earsplitting noises continue, making me feel apprehensive. The thought of the unknown scares me and I care too much so I listen to these blaring voices, booming with every stride I make.

I stop walking, as if these thundering voices weren’t enough to make me anxious, I feel many pairs of eyes glaring at me in this blinding darkness, secretly amused by my feeble state.

Am I still far?
Will I reach it?
Will I make it out alive?
Will I bump into someone — anyone — who has a map and a flashlight to share?

I quiver as I cross my arms and continue walking, hoping that I would soon see the light at the end of what seems to be a never ending tunnel.

I was a 4 year old kid who visited his father in hospital every day for months. The worst part about that was prentending everything will be normal. That me telling my dad "it'll be ok" will make it come true.But it doesn't.People would walk around and tell me that ok is relative. Some are just more ok than others but in that moment I felt anything but okay. Because to this day, I still say "no kid should watch his father strapped up to machines trying to breathe the words that say don't worry too much". Between each broken breath I can remember him asking about whether I'd behave at home, like a few bruises and cuts on my face would change how anything was going to play out. Some days I wish I could reverse death. Some days I wish I could reverse time. This is one of those days. Because 17 years ago I lost a man who was supposed to show me what it was like to be a man. How to stand like a man. How to walk like a man. How to talk like a man. So you know what really keeps me going? Being childish. It's easier. Easier to pretend. Easier to believe in imaginary things like an imaginary dad giving me advices. Most kids grew up with an imaginary friend or a unicorn, I grew up with an imaginary dad.

10 years ago and today: there is an
empty space at some table
non-given advices or hugs dwell in the could have been
Knots of silences forms in the throats of those as they remember the names, the moments
Soothing memories are shadowed by the present pain
We promised not to forget.
Even if desired, is impossible,
When your disappearance has impacted so many, even if they didn’t know you
Even if they can only imagine who you were among the thousands of faces lost forever that day,
They can imagine you were
someone’s daughter, or son
Someone’s father or mother,
Someone’s grandfather or grandmother,
Someone’s brother or sister,
Someone’s uncle or aunt,
Someone’s friend or significant other
They can only imagine you, as a figure
fallen within the statistics
HOWEVER,
they cannot feel what some of us felt
In the agony of resignation,
slowly accepting the crude fact
As the days went by, as we held the thinnest of hope alive
In the unconscious human belief (it can’t be happening to us)
And the eternal minutes of waiting for a
phone call, turned into hours
and the visits to strangers in hospitals hoping to see a familiar face
And the dreaded visit that confirmed our biggest fear
To hear a five year old said “I’m mad at god” because he took you away
Some of us saw our sanity crumble
As the reality presented itself
Slowly digesting it during the holidays,
Our birthdays,
Your birthday,
The births of those that you did not get to meet,
Of those that find you strange in picture.
The moments in which we imagine what you would have said
The moments in which your memories comes interrupting the conversations and creating the eternal silence…
We may never forget, but we are still
learning to live without you
Love you always

only tribute we can give to great personalities is

"remembering there advices and following them"

the only respect we can give for great people

Words are not enough to express
Our sorrow, our joy, our advices
So here are three roses
For us to commemorate your past successes

Three, we are sad to see you go
The school will miss the love you've shown
The lessons you've taught us, how life's a bow
That we are arrows aiming high, not low

Two, even though you will be far
Know that you have a home, our hearts
We are happy that you were a part
Of our school, you are golden stars

One, we wish you luck
Don't waste time when opportunities knock
Time can be told by a clock
But moments, in our hearts, they are locked

Cherish yours

Words are not enough to express
How much we love you, through worst or best
So before you go, here are three roses
To the Golden ones, see you again

Creeper
Oh thou! on whom i creep,
                             thou giveth me space and thou lets me weep.
when i spread my palm in mid air
               thou provideth me space to creep
                    and then thou lets me grow and enter my sombre sleep.

i am a creeper but i was never taught to creep,
             there was a calling i heard as a bud
                     and i knew the echo ran deep,
                            the voices screamt,''creep,creep, creep´
but i could hear the other flowers and bushes calling me their black sheep.

I had seen no creepers (who ever taught me how to) creep,
      i was all alone in the vastness of the plant sheet
           but i had decided that i had to stand tall and creep
                   so when i felt the wall next to me,
                       i opened my palms so i could start the long march before i fell asleep.

I crept, crept, crept, day in and day out
        all around that wall, and,
           when i reached the top,
              yes the top!
                    i felt all lonely and lost.
But then came a bird bringing stories of other creepers who had followed their calling and who stretched and crept and crept, before they fell in to a deep sleep.
               The bird promised that he will bring flowers from different creepers
                     and seeds to sow of baby creepers
                                    who could learn to creep from me.
            
So the next few days, hours and months, there were all these tiny creepers who kept looking upto me
        and awaiting advices on how to creep.


(After i read what i had written, i felt the book SEAGULL in the background echoing itself)

You hide your motives
in your apologies.

Your lust
in your love.

Your plots
in your promises.

I masked my pain
in my smiles.

My manipulations
in my advices.

My schemes
in my prayers.

Cunningly,
like you did.