Every time you turn back and realize how beautiful it was
It will make you only wilt
That how dull it is now
That how beauti-dull its going to be..

beautiful as the rise and fall of the sun
red lips as my blood boils till the trees go green
with the smell of the daisies in the fields

.

                                    Beaut
                               iful Beauti
                              ful Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                                Beautiful
                      Beautiful       Beautiful
                Beautiful Bea  utiful Beautiful
                 Beautiful B       eautiful Beau
                    Beautiful           Beautiful

i am not beauti-
ful but I am free and that
is so much better

Turned 17*
in yet another ordinary day..
blind
black
boring..*
Yes there were kind of joy
in my dreams
But the cake was bitter, balloons deflated, grey jacket
withered flowers, self written cards, melted candles
And infinite wait for your call..

17 years of humanly life... earthly
that faint odor of emptiness
Every time you turn back and realize how beautiful it was
It will make you only wilt
That how dull it is
That how beauti-dull its going to be..

And after all
Its me wishing myself
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

It’s a different kind of love story now
One where everyone is happy
And no one is laying up all night
The kind that you hear about
And see in the movies
The kind that you really don’t think exist
I didn’t think so either
But then I met her
She was beauti – is beautiful
Her eyes are the most beautiful window
To the most beautiful soul
That ive ever seen
My friends are jealous
My parents are proud
My brother gave me a pat on the back
Literally
It wasn’t love at first sight
But it didn’t take long
And when I knew I really knew
I’m so in love with her
And the only thing I wish
Is that this was all real

I can sense it within your voice,
No matter what you say,
The attitude the word choice,
State those feelings you convay,

Through a soft smooth tone,
You beauti-fully portray,
What is not easily said,
What you truly intend,
Holds truth, no pretend,
What some can't comprehend,
What would never offend,
What could heal and mend,
What a pleasure to have you
as my friend,

Simply the way you speak,
Whether using words or codes,
Your reaction or responses,
Your rhythmic singing voice,
Or artistic drawing skills,
You somehow find a way,
That uniquely illustrates,
And in a way communicates,
Deep feelings or simple meaning,
Filled with warmness and kindness,
Blended with intelligence n brilliance,

Even your silence,
Holds such significance,
Speaks what words fail to define,
Where quietness n wisdom intertwine.

~A.d

4 Aug 2014

I.
your beauty unravels
The naked skeleton i see before me
Makes me want to *****.

There was never a day of honest calculating
Dissection
With the edges of coffee spoons
That would prepare a sample
Of a soulless, walking stick figurine

When you severed your leg
you replaced your arm.
your arm will grow strong
While your arm is already strong.

II.
Just like all of those small details
In all of these old stories
That you probably glanced over
When you were younger,
The yous became used tos
Rites became spite.

And time
time turned us into snakes,
Constrictors and the poisonous variety alike.
Watch your step.

An old world reminder comes in the form of a simple machine.
Never anything complex.
To change would to be
And to be different is deviance

Gradients.
Residuals.

But here they stand unceremoniously
Talking to a mask of plastic,
Persuading with another.
A cut was all it took,
An exchange of a few solitary words,

IIa.
(the clock rolls by as its arms grow weary architectural decisiveness i suppose to preserve time in a twelve by twelve porcelain circular marker a blind judge of swimming and daylight but also drowning it stalls and discontinues indefinitely lazy hands drop)

III.
The next day came.
One day you wake up
Surrounded by strangers
One day you wake up
Alone.

your new solo project awaits.
When it feels like you were so complete
Six days, five nights ago.
Like a beaten child
Or a dog slipping out a door
Or a skilless percussionist
Time always finds a way of running away.

When it's gone, it's gone forever.
No amount of beggin, bartering or stealing
Will ever bring it back.

When you have a clock,

Never frame it

Never ever frame it.

This gives an illusion of controlling
Something you will never control
Something you can never domesticate.

Take your grandfather's watch
And make like Quentin Compson.

If you can't control something
Break it
If you can't break it
**** it.

i wrote you with my pain
i wrote you with my tears
           ....
the pain and tears YOU GAVE ME
just the day you left me you were turned into beauti poetries!

the grass is brown
the chirrips have stopped
a lonely
cricket
    l              
                 e
                                       a
                                                           p
                                                               ­        s

                                                              ­              a
                                                 ­                           n
                                    ­                                        d
                       ­                                                    s
                                                               ­          l
                                                               ­     o
                                                          ­    w
                                                           ­  l
                                                        y


   ­                                              d
                                               r
                                         o
                                   p
                                 s

                d
           o
     w
   n

d
e
a
d

how your
body looks
so beauti-
ful absent
of all
colour

play me a
springtime
melody one
last time
for me

A fruity color, tougher than any other.
Beautiful tree with a warm color.
Eye candy but the visons sweet and healthy
Blossoms flood the windy sky with beauty
Petals flood this tree, A warm breeze just hit me
The scent is just as sweet and great to look at visually