My voice is a wall of glass
On the both side of the wall it's all the same

The roof is consisted of umbrella-shaped beams
The world is an embroidered web
I'm a spider that don't spew silk
cling on to intertwining iron bars
Accidentally chocked my fly to death
Buried it in the oblivion sky

Fed on chitchat
I'm now becoming a skinny,
wind up bird.

I want to get on my knee
I want to make you mine

I feel more secure when you are tied

Put a ring on your finger?
Baby, I won’t be satisfied

I want you so badly
I’m obsessed, and you are hypnotized

Never a day I don’t wonder how we’ve got drowned in this love and crime

Guess that’s what people say
I’m your longing
You fulfill my appetite

I can only see love
Through your throbbing veins on your sternal line

I can only hear love
Through the screaming and crying

When you are chocked by the chain
When you are hopeless and frightened

I know I’ve loved you right

No one else matters
Nothing else shines
Your existence means more than my life

But baby
I’d only get on my knee
when you die

We held hands as time's sand
passed between. Night chocked
the last sun beams. Our conversation
was pertinent to the dwindling
red wine bottle. As the moon glazed
shore began to roar, she whispered
"Let's cuddle." I dropped you, holding her,
and thought "Oh" and began to coddle.

I wrapped myself around her like a shell to a turtle
and she began to nestle on my chest. I guessed
the indigestion came from the Bordeaux bottom.
Boy, was I wrong. See, as I lay with her,
forgetting about you, I remembered
blood is thicker than water. The loves
we choose are stronger than ones
We've fallen into. I wasn't falling there,
underneath the stars, next to the parked car.
I was laying. I was contemplating
as the wind was spraying the lake
into the air.

I came to the conclusion
I was in an illusion of  love.
Confounded by smoke and reflections
from movie magicians. She looked up
to me and I guess she could see
my reality crumbling in the breeze.
She asked if I was ok. My slight smile alluded
I was and we laid in love
until the sun's intrusion.

I am a Lego
Build me up brick by brick
Build me strong, build me weak
I could be pretty
Or I could make you sick
But a 4 year old kid
Shouldn’t touch me
Cause he’s not ready
He might as well be chocked
By swallowing me
Or changed his mind
And decided that
He wants other cheap toys
*To play with

Sofia Vergara satisfies her post-work out sweet tooth by sipping on a protein-packed smoothie that tastes like chocolate ice cream.

The Modern Family star, who is famous for her curves, isn't a fan of exercising, so she has found a way to maximise the efficiency of her gym visits.

"I'm the first to admit that I hate wasting time in the gym," the 43-year-old tells People magazine. "I'm not one of those people who spends hours on the treadmill or takes three spin classes a day. When you work out smarter (and of course, eat healthy!), you'll love the way you look and feel, and get the most out of your sweat sessions."

The Colombian beauty has shared her top five tips with the publication to boost motivation, and her first piece of advice is to get caffeinated.

"Sip coffee on the way to the gym," she wrote. "Who doesn't love starting the day with a delicious Colombian roast? Sure, it's tasty, but it has so many benefits, too! It'll wake you up and get you energized for your workout, and it's been proven that drinking coffee (caffeinated, of course) helps your body burn more fat during exercise. Every little bit helps, right?"

Sofia also recommends recruiting a "workout buddy" to help with the exercise inspiration, insisting hitting the gym together also serves as good "bonding time", and she advises her fellow females, "Don't be scared to lift weights".

Sofia goes on to suggest tired treadmill users trade in any machines, which "get boring fast", and try something "creative".

"Dance cardio classes are my current obsession, because there's nothing better than turning up the music and just letting everything go," she explained. "But really, making cardio easier to knock out is more about finding something you really love. Whether it's surfing, biking or jumping on trampolines, do something you enjoy. When you have fun during workouts, it's a lot easier to commit to doing them - and they don't feel like work."

And finally, Sofia reminds readers to "treat yourself afterward".

The actress reveals she always looks forward to her after-gym treat, and although it's chocked full of healthy ingredients, it makes her think she's eating something yummy.

"It's tempting to go eat something that's a little unhealthy as a reward, but instead of undoing all my hard work, I treat myself to a satisfying, healthy snack," she continued. "My go-to post-workout smoothie has chocolate protein powder, almond butter, coconut water and goji berries on top - it tastes like chocolate ice cream, but has none of the guilt!"Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses

I thought of you, when you thought of me.
I deleted all our memories off my phone.
The ones where we're smiling,
As if in a few short months,
We didn't know we'd be nothing to each other,
You gave me a quiet hey,
I gave you a simple nod,
We asked about each other's lifes,
I found that quite odd,
Because it feels like just yesterday,
You knew me better than myself,
But you told me about your new job,
1500 a night,
Taking your clothes off for girls,
As if that was right,
I asked jokingly if you charged extra for the guys,
You nodded without missing a beat,
I felt chocked up inside,
I just grinned and said I remember when I got all of that for free.

I waited for the breeze
to ******* the fragrance of your hair
your curls were caught in the wind
your strands strangled me of air
I waited for the breeze
to ******* the scent of your skin
but the sweetest of oils from your pores
were diamanté drops dried by the wind
I waited for the breeze to bring me
the fresh breath of your mouth
The wind welcomed the smoke
I chocked, crying like a cloud

If you asked me, to get to you
which of the two would I cease?
I would have enslaved the wind
my love, and set free the breeze

Tears trail familiar cheek bones.
Pick up your pen and paper
Chocked cries echo in silence.
Don't drop your pen and paper
Turmoil tears the inside.
Press down your pen to paper

Allow all the words to move you.
As your pen dances on paper
Let loose the ink to fly free and wild.
Just put your pen to paper
Wonderful worlds might crash and burn.
But you can put your pen to paper

Do you feel that healing magic?
As you remove your pen from paper
Can you feel your heart grow light?
As you rest your tired pen from paper
Do you know what it feels like?
*When you put your pen to paper

At 18, in college I was a slacker.
A **** that refused to attend
a class much before eleven.
My thoughts not extending
far beyond tomorrow’s game.
Still a little groggy from
Too much beer the night before,
Eyes reluctantly barely open,
I found and took my seat.

The class was in a Lecture Hall,
Theater seating for a hundred.
A class filled to near capacity,
For a Professor everyone loved.
“American History One O One”,
Taught by Doctor Weatherspoon,
A very cool Professor.

He was a very exacting man,
Always prompt and to the point,
A wonderful Lecturer and Historian.
Leaving out most of the trivial ****.

And yet on this morn,
It appeared he was late.
The clock on the wall
Informed eighteen minutes
Past Eleven and counting.
A highly unuseal event.
Lateness was not in
This Educator’s play book.

The seated students were growing
Ever more restless with chatter.
No teacher in class after twenty minutes,
Meant the students were free to leave.
One or two kids were already getting up,
to do just that, make a clean escape.

The side door to the raised stage opened,
Doctor W.  appeared, standing alone.
This enlightener of young lives, he
Who brought insight to our minds you see,
was himself quite blind, couldn't see a thing.

He was nearly always in the company of
A teacher’s aid, his hand upon her arm.
A human “Seeing Eye Dog” of his very own.
That day there was no aid present,
He was alone, standing in the doorway,
Only a solemn expression showing,
His ever present dark glasses slightly,
Askew upon his serious, ashen face.

Slowly, hesitantly he edged forward
Appearing unsure of himself,
even slightly confused.
When he thought he must be near
the center-front of the stage stopped,
slowly turned to his right,
Facing the room filled with his students,
We, who had fallen by then nearly, mute.
To silly kids that seldom took anything seriously,
All at once, nothing in that room seemed humorous.

In a flat halting, chocked up voice he announced,
“The President has been shot.
Down in Dallas.
I regret to inform you,
our President is dead.”

An audible gasp,
a collective sigh of shock was heard,
someone cried out; “Oh my God no!”
He held up his right hand, palm out and
Gently moved it right to left, a slow Parade
Wave it seemed. Beseeching us for calm.
The room went instantly silent again.

In a broken voice he continued,
“I think we should all adjourn for the day,
Yes, no class today. Perhaps no other classes at all.
Yes, you should go home now, be with your families.”
He began to softly cry, took off his dark glasses,
Took a white linen hanky from his suite pocket,
Dabbing it at his sunken, sightless eyes.
We had never seen him without his dark glasses,
Looking for the first time, upon his naked human face.

“Yes, it’s best you go on home now,
I’m so sorry; I don’t know what else to say.”

Then in a moment of stress and confusion,
He turned, did a 180,
facing about, the wrong way.
Slowly he began to walk forward,
hands outstretched before him,
towards the solid, rear brick wall,
of the stage. Headed for disaster.

A football teammate of mine,
jumped up on the stage and
Raced to catch the Professor.
Gently taking him by the arm,
ending his error in navigation.
Then my friend guided our Mentor
to the exit door.

All of us, nearly 100 remained seated,
a strange compelling hush,
weighing heavily upon us.
A stunned silence for sure,
that I shall never forget.

Our respected teacher’s emotional,
Confused response only deepening
our own feelings, of loss and dread.
Then we were left alone, together
to ponder what it all meant.

No cell phones, no instant news
Abounding, like birds on the wing,
Filling the air, here there and everywhere
to see and hear. Home was where we
Saw and heard things of import back then,
Home is where we should be.
And that is where most of us went.

Gradually over the next few minutes,
One by one, students rose and silently,
Slowly, reverently walked from the room
As if they were walking from a Church,
after some emotionally wrenching occasion.
A few and not just females were openly weeping.

There is no way to explain all this any better,
There is no real way for you to fully understand,
How it was, how it felt, unless you, yourself were there.
I dare say that anyone over the age of ten on that day,
November 22, 1963 will ever forget where they were,
What they were doing, when they first heard the news
Of the assignation of President John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

A year and a half later I was in the Military,
doing what I thought I should.  
In part perhaps, as JFK had inspired.
“Ask not what your country can do for you.
Ask what you can do for your country.”
My older brother joined the Peace Corps,
I joined the Marine Corps, both answering the call,
As we saw fit.

On that day in November ’63 the entire country
went into a profound and deep National mourning
that lasted for weeks.  

That has over time turned into a National Haunting,
That still to this day, half a century later, persists.

Some things, some events, truly are unforgettable

What happens to the rose when it dies?
When it is chocked by its thorny foes
Does it green blood soak the earth to water more plants of love?
Do its crimson leaves fold their petals in pain?

What happens to the rose when it dies?
By the hands of a stray lover in search of a gift
Do the lovers drain all their tear wells?
Perhaps they merry as its mortal remains
Passes from his hand to her hand, from his heart to her heart

What happens to the rose when it dies?
Is it ever eulogized and its memorials held
Or is the emblem of love left in pile ash of bygone?
Is the rose ever buried and how does its epitaph read?

What happens to the rose when it dies?
Does it body like man’s decay leaving nothing but dry bones?
Is it folded and placed inside an old love book?
Who knows what happens to the rose when it dies?

There lay sadness so deep in
his hazelnut brown eyes. It
startled her. Could this be
because of a mother’s love
that chocked him deep down
to the bone. Drifting away
through the black and grey
trying to avoid everyone who
came into his way. He found a
girl who was sad and blue. “I
might as well follow you on
twitter too” he said to himself.
Exchanging thoughts and ideas
they decided to stay together.
Become better and walk out of
the misery they lived through.
A date and two he found himself
drenched in her love. “How
could you be prettier than emeralds
and all the stars. How could you
be prettier than the fresh blood
red roses people leave for their
loved ones over their grey silver
grave stones ?” You brought me
to life when all I wanted to do was
stay home till death comes and
picks me away to the heavens like
they say. “The sadness in your eyes
told me that you need someone to
love you and stay” was all she said
while she looked at him straight
ahead as he blushed and turned ruby
red. Take this feather and ink and
write me down into your story. Ink
my skin with words of love. But let
me tell you one thing first I see
dandelions and happy wishes too
behind the darkness you hold inside
of you. And gardens about to burst
with wild flowers , butterflies and
daylights sunshine. He held her tight
and poems began to roll down her
arms and thighs*

They made vows to be together even
after fifty. Promises seem like sweet
nothings and cheesy, but what they felt
inside was real. "Exterior is only what
beauty defined. Interior is where your
heart refines" she said to him everytime.
Their 'ILoveyous' never been feigned to
just saying it. Everytime those three words
versed out loud, they can feel their hearts
glued together. Beating to the same nocturne
rhythm. Both beautifully in tune, in sync.
Both of them knew this is how they truly
feel. Heart's that were once armored with
steel. Stolen and found their nest where they
truly belong. Like a ship that needs its keel.
They sail through stormy oceans to finish their
last song* ~

The age, when they are supposed to play with toys
Picking up the broken & trashes for others, these Garbage boys
In the piles of disposed plastic chocked their story sentimental
The boys, dusty body so frail & gentle
Wrapped in clothes, tattered torn, dull & discolored like them
Surviving against the rules of Darwin
Too starved & malnutritioned & no one cares
Only the open sky & thrown food, they share
In the chaos of every city they have to find a place to sleep
They collect the things, what people call waste & cheap
No parents, no future, just the harsh life on the road side
Living in their small world unaware with pride
Shiny cars & luxury clothes, sparks their eyes
Telling that they have dreams,
But Their memories full of hate, insult & razed
Which are permanent & can't be erased
Unexpected rains, deadly cold & sweaty summers
Not every one of them end up like a Kite Runner
When people sleep comfortably in their sweet home
They stand there with the fainted & blurred shadow alone

You sat there, wrapped in a tumble of blankets
Blankly staring out of the window
You told me you had depression
That you had had it before I was even born
That it runs in our family

I was chocked
chocked on all the horrible things I had said to you
How terribly I treated you

You told me your medication hadnt been working, that you had gone off your depressants because you had felt well enough, although you seemed to have crashed
Doctors had put you back on your depressants
You told me that you would be back to "normal" in three weeks time
but three weeks later my father stayed behind a closed bedroom door with you, your sister rushed into our house.
I knew it was something to do with you
"Her medication isnt working" thats all my father told me

That night I didnt see you or my dad all night long
2:00 am
My dad walked through the front door,
Tired eyes gazing over at me
My mother had been admitted to the psychiatric unit in the hospital
She was there to get her medication adjusted
It was just a short amount of time she was to be in there.

Every evening we would make a trip to the hospital
I started to wonder how the "normal" would ever return
I dont think "normal" could be achieved ever again

one week

You were discharged,
All you did was sleep it seemed
Where was my mother

two more days
You relapsed
My dad told me that you had a plan to end it all, that you were no good for the family.
I remember how much you told me you loved me
I didnt see you or dad that night

You were to be in the hospital longer than the "first time"
Visiting every night
You were surrounded by other patients with all sorts of mental illnesses
You reassured me that it would all be
Normal
again.

That next week you came home.
Nothing is normal
Normal is abnormal now.

nor a fox not wise
with claws and pipes

a forests breath
with death ripe


just a day in paradise,
that's all i pray.


no fool for a price
nor a herd for a prize

malfunctioning slight
chocked with parasites


just a day in paradise,
if it wasn't for today.


spoiled thoughts
and foiled spite

caught then boxed
with no air to bite

lost and left,
kept for the nights

in transparent red
herein painted quiet


just a day in paradise,
for the one who pays.


in a stranger's head
with debt of dice

where heaven lays
and the dead shall rise

seven solemn days
that'll never come twice

mourning for prey
by a mornings pride


just a day in paradise,
for a day in paradise

if it wasn't for today.


kissed by the fire
shut with wire

no word nor desire
and made in ice


broken prism's charm
in arms of a lover
born away and in white

doused in hope
and not a dime to pay
no dream nor life


just a day in paradise,
and it'll never go away.


where beauty slays
and inferno hides

dante's meal
and a mountains might

where a valley bleeds
from a pelters diet

melting the stones
and people alike


just a day in paradise,
that's all there's to say.


whence scars bleed
opened far wide

and the hour sleeps
in fear and fright

where words fail
to tell and describe

rotten and stale
fighting the lights


just a day in paradise,
for the one who stayed.


nor a fox not wise
with claws and pipes

a forest's breath
with death ripe


just a day in paradise,
and that's all i pray.

Tying a string to loan
Coercing a poor country,
Under the yoke of poverty
To squawk and groan,
Also making
The noose tighter, tighter
So that aid it fails to garner,
Allow a hypocrite donor
To flog the receiver
Into a restricted domain
To every donor’s whim
Saying “Amen.”

Tragically, this way receiver’s
Development wishes
And growths’ talk
Will go up in smoke.

In such manner,
With malfunctioned cog,
Receiver turns
The tail of the donor dog,
.
On the other hand,
For donor’s
Geopolitical advantage,
With preferential treatment
The ingratiating donor’s pet,
Pampered, will enjoy
Jealously -strewn
Dream’s fulfillment
To its heart’s content,
While the pushover
Smothered, maltreatments
Has to suffer.

It is such strings
The pushover-made
Ethiopia managed to cut
To generate much-needed
Over 5000 Megawatt.
Megawatt, which commands,
On the back, many a pat.

In so doing
Ethiopia has set an example
Emerging countries
Could realize
Developmental take off
By own dabble
Ramming home donors’
Double standard is
What they can
Do without, while in
Birth cry bout.

Chopping the string
With a self-esteem knife
Ethiopia born GERD to life
Tapping Abay (Blue Nile)—
A confluence of rivers,
Which are rife.

Ethiopia is
Tapping its gigantic river
That originates from its soil
To do away with women’s
Back-breaking toil.

Ethiopia is harnessing
Its prodigal river
To avoid fetching firewood,
Chocked with smoke,
To prepare food.

Ethiopia is subduing
Its God-bestowed river
To outreach with light
Students that study
Late into the night
For want of
A reading lamp
That use smoky lantern
In far-flung corners of
The country’s
Schools’ map.

Ethiopia is
Forcing the river
Yield a hand
So that
Nation’ demand
Electricity—
Mushrooming industries’
Lifeblood—
Soon, will flow
Like an irrigating flood.

Ethiopia is
Taming the wild river
In a bid
Environment-friendly
GERD starts
Generating hydropower soon
To let the region enjoy
The unprecedented boon.

When GERD materializes,
The heinous, covetous
Donors’ pet ,
Which claims to date
The river is
Its exclusive right
Will be
Coerced to stop
Eclipsing the country’s
Affluence hope.

The less privileged
Round the globe
Which are
Under the same fate
Ethiopia’s
Development ******
Could emulate.

Soon Ethiopia will
Join the club
Countries marked
Industrial hub.

You know something?
Arm twisting
Is the mystery of the string!
So go for bootstrapping
Use shoestring.

As I woke up from my bed
there were tears in my eyes ready to shed
still unable to come out of my last night dream
all I wanted was to scream
unable to scream i got chocked out
felling the familiar pain i broke out
breaking my numbness pain was taking the toll
etching and tearing my soul

As I tried to remember the time u left me alone
tossed me out of your life like a stone
leaving me crying and pleading for u
I don't know why but my heart still bleeds for u

dejected and forlorn
I tried to strife
I tried to smile
as i tried to carry on this wretched life of mine for another while
I tried to laugh n laugh out aloud
carrying a happy go lucky face in the crowd
I tried hard but
it all went in vain
as the memories of you keep coming back again n again
intensifying the pain
pain it was making me insane

Now no longer can i sustain
so I walked towards the last lane
took the blade n slit opened my vein
watching blood taking its last earthly ride
I closed my eyes
and wish to see you on the other side..

In VANCHINADU EXPRESS
By the window I sat with stress.
Munching by the dust-bin sat a mouse.
Disturbed soul in mouse-trap-inn
Though dismayed senses beamed in shells trio-
The encircling walls that make three koshas-
Annamaya of metals and minerals
As the shell of eggs form; form the body.
Manomaya of thought-waves is magnetic field active;
As prana vibrates in its shell pranamaya kosha
Dead engine whistled abrupt;
On the rails the train swaying moved
Vanchinadu express swaying moved.
How can I express  its  pressing stress?
In dress  is my body ; in body my spirit: the soul,
Under  pressure of crowd and crowding thoughts.
Smoke clouds of the engine chocked me, shook me.
How can I express this pressing stress?
The stress of balloons soaring high up
Of surging waves and volcanoes live
How..how can…how can I express?
Am I not one, one among them?
Oh!  Calm mouse, you too not ?
How-
Express?
X Y press?-
Progress?
Regress?
Elite-
Soul's
Senses-
How I express?
Note: 1. Annamaya kosha= shell of body;manomaya kosha= shell of mind;pranamaya kosha=shell of soul/nucleus.
          2. X and y are chromosomes
          3. Vanchinadu express is  the express train servicing from Ernakulam  to Thiruvanamthapuram

Recollections on Chaliyar.

In youthfulness was Chaliyar.

As I saw her next , from afar

Amidst the greenery was, she

Dancing in pleated clothes.

In spotlight of the setting sun

In tune the Air that hummed

On rail the wheels trumpeted

Gallery across the river I stood

Watching her”jahiliat” life moves

Lured all by giggle and smile

Ripples, eddies her beauty spots

She was mine I was hers!

Oh! My Chaliyar, recall, whence

We started and parted;

Made our veins venomous.

By-gone are by-gone-

God loves and pardons ;

He is with them that pardons

God won’t hear our prayer

If we keep deaf ear to prayer.

Unrelenting oars push a yacht.

The fume of trade shrouded me

With the smoke of train chocked

Down in water I plunged, yelled

Help, Help Oh! helpless yelp.

THE TIME rippled, wriggled

Coiled around while none

But Allah held me around.

On a delta I lay bare; hence

I write on rights we need.

……….



Note : Chaliyar is a river in northern Kerala, India, once most polluted.

“Jahiliat’ is an Arabic word means uncultured/impure period in life.

Allah is the name to denote the Almighty Creator that all religions expected to worship.

Learn to fly


i do not want to live this life hence
why i am sat here contemplating
this black handled knife i want to slit
my wrists and learn to fly sounds so great
but have you ever tried to take your life,
just to only to wake up later that night.
DSmith



Bold, Engulfed and left to feel the same

Deep,Vocal and pain
hopeless mind,hopeless pain
thoughts are controlling actions.
****** beds sheets and stained clothes
no food no help for me so it i beg god
hurries and shuts the coffin closed

DSmith


My one true love,proud from above

I am hiding behind enemy lines.
wasting money and of cause my life time
thoughts of you remind me that
you're mine. I am fine just sad from time to time
The one thing that helps me fight is the thoughts
that you are mine and one day we may reunite.



As you tug on each heart string


As you tug on my heart strings
ligature marks from blue ribbon string.
Why would i sing the lords praise,
I cry why would i sing that his name
was it all my fault i'm wondering,
Searching for the painless soul within

DSmith


So you are the people that rule the world


so you are the people who rule the world?
locking up young boys and girls....claiming,
that they are not well even though
they can see the real in the world
  there empty minds step on egg shells.
The evil in the world hides behind,
these boys and girls the ones who make
this world, S tay in the shadows or under shells
but no ones appealing to the self worth
and the ignorance just gets worse ..



DSmith



Scarecrow.

I have no body for me to show what i know,
i have had a few visitors but they come and go.
for what i am for i will never know
my hay is itchy my hat slanted
My arms are heavy there is a man on the path,
Maybe just maybe we could have a laugh...he's coming
I chant with glee he  would make a good friend for a girl or boy  
i can see something in his hand what can it be. We do not have any events planned oh no Oh NO CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! and the scarecrow drops.

DSmith

ANGEL FROM THE GROUND

I know from time to time you peer down
to watch me each day you become proud and think  wow look at him now
he's really getting on well no more drugs now making his daughters proud i sent a friend down to see you were okay and he said no angel can watch over other angels.


DSmith




So look at me now i look at my self proud i hold my cards close to my chest
but that's just me i always kept.
My feelings locked away some days i am sad, others i am glad i still remember you dad my daughters wont be ill make sure to tell what a great granddad they had.


DSmith



Mentally ill

so you want to know how the side effects make me feel.
I cant sit still, My eyes wonder
to one side so i am giving up
the will to fight.my muscle seize they turn to steal oh its nine o'clock time for medication. To lay these voices to rest get the pain of my chest lay back and let my mess take care of the rest


DSmith


Green green grass

They say the grass is greener on the other-side  i say it changes the demeanor
when two worlds collide.
the feeling of hope hides behind the prison, Of your mind to find out your the only one left behind

DSmith


Bullets

Bullets in the heart, razors slice the vein
is-it just me or is the world cruel.
were all the same passing buck and shifting blame...
A penny for your thoughts or a shot to the brain. Suffering, sufferings so they claim society is twisted. No respect ...its a shame... slit your wrist and soon you will see. You bleed red blood just like me.


DSmith

Pitter patter


Pain is not having a plan,
Pain is not having the man that brought you before this here land.
I could not see his plan now he's gone i've searched the sky, seas and sands.
Before i stand before you whether you like it or not the 16 th of may he decided it was time for me to be a man.
You could have told me i would have held your hand....
I have no choice,no voice and no sound of that man. Nor heart beat no pitter patter of his feet.
He left this life he thought it would be better but it all ended in defeat no more drunk days roaming the streets of more pitter patter from his and Ana's feet Night dad have a nice sleep.


DSmith




Sentenced to life in my head.


So what gives up the right
to say your health is alright but, your head is wrong...Alright how can you tell me you have lived my life.
Have you ever had the choice to carry on and fight or just sit there why tears flood your eyes. Have you ever cried your self to sleep because there no knifes, razors or pills to eat my sickness need more than prescription.. Try my shoes and how far can make cover over in a days mission are you sure let me help you down from your high horse what right do you have to judge me your the one with the devil on your back.


DSmith


Contemplating life


I do not want live this life
so i it and contemplate
this knife. To cut myself it would feel so right.
it feels so good like the holing of ice,
it just feels so right have you ever tried to take your life just to be on section the next night with these demons everyday i have to fight they tell me **** your self your not worth it i say i am not no where near perfect but i know my children are worth it  



DSmith



Ghost


Okay there was better ways to leave
I know but as I swing there,
pigments of ghost. I remain where I stay
till i heard from the ghost it whispers....
I loved you, the most. It was my time to go your time to shine please do not, Feel hate because I left you behind .

You was the best accomplishment in my
life as i lay here draining of life.. remember me for the things that went right.



DSmith



So here I am

So here i am once again,
Finding my self aimless
nothing else but shame,
I ask my self once, Twice
and over and over to stand here
rendered with heart ache, The same
heart ache that got me locked away in
in medium secure locked away safe and sound.. tap tap tap Daryll the devils calling.


DSmith


The howling past

The wind it echoes from cave to cave
gusting past like a hawk in prey.
The wind swoops to the lower level,with
each and every tattered feathers it flies by no matter the weather.

DSmith


domestic abuse


what would you class as abuse or the fact that the other half gave you the noose and tightened it so tight the no slipping loose the very way they make you feel good for a while, They put you down with cute insults.
Back to hate at the end of the day, The way they make you feel good to knock you down, they hit you and tell you its all your fault or they did it because they love you either way .....you know what i have to say... that's domestic abuse.

DSmith

flowers

This flower is me,
Freshly picked, Yesterday
vibrant and pink vibrant an
free, Alive and kicking but now is dead,
withered.......Dead petals, No leafs
gone into its self, just like me
i saw a lot of what the world was yesterday now i've given up,
the fight just a me!

written by


DSmith

I see you.

I can taste your blood.
I even smell it, I smell it in the air.
i even kept that snippet of your hair
i watch you as you sleep, I watch you as you eat.... i even like those socks that let your toes peak.
i can taste your blood I can smell it in the air.
First i'll remove your scalp, Even remove each hair, i'll slice my knife right through you leaving you for dead.
Cut you in to pieces and even freeze your head, I'll skin your legs and arms and even cut off your face  and then ill serve it to one of your mates i hear you begging, begging to be saved
I'll bury you in a field with unmarked graves...quick call the police before its all but to late.

DSmith

The Church


The church peaks over the trees the grass is long but a light  shade of green, The birds seek food then they fly away.
Looking out there's not one cloud in the sky. The moon can be seen ever so wide I look up for answers of what to do with my life.


DSmith


Freedom


I can hear the voices, To me they sing.
I can see the door I also feel the wind.
I look beyond the window ,from which were caged in.
I can feel the people in all there thoughts that spare
A hopeless Abis. I call but no one answers this.
I scream I shout but only because I'm scared.
I'm free I'm out I pray I never go back there.

DSmith

Stars


I look up to the stars wishing that i at least knew where to start. deep down in my heart i knew we were both doomed, Doomed from the start do not look within me nor check if i have a heart its cold out here in my world of hatred and dark.


DSmith


Twinkle Twinkle daddy's star

Twinkle Twinkle daddy's little star.
Sometimes i wonder where you are,
if you're sad or having a cry or having a laugh.
Other times i do not let you in because it becomes to hard.
Twinkle Twinkle daddy's star
I picture you dancing singing on my bed jumping up and down and then the pain again all starts.
Twinkle Twinkle daddy's star i miss you so much it feels wrong to laugh.

DSmith

Fate


There's no need to cut me down
I lay there in higher ground.
These beams of light **** in every
Bit of my life. I live In a dream of no God, nor light
No pain, no more voices for my pain to hide behind.
I hang here on the truth of mind. I hanging here
Just not caring what I left behind.



DSmith




Medium lock down and i'm loving it now



White jackets is the idea you get,
Needles in and restraints to forget,
i've been here a week now'
On a medium secure lock down ward shuffled walks everybody talks to voices that you  cant listen to talk,
Broken down minds obscure thoughts to be rebuilt, By medication and mind manipulation. Cheers to a life with no fair trail ..Were guilty without reason...

hey say their here to help
but stab you in the back
and twist it in, oh ever so kind
professional silver spooned
ignorant mind..
these people as we are..they are no longer of sound mind. Being held against
their will in a prison worse than hell.
in a places with no thoughts no control
but an over taken mind,
but this does not mean we are not worth your time.


DSmith


Dear mummy


Mummy why wont you hug me,
Mummy why cant i call you..
Mummy this is no longer funny,
Mummy what have I done?
Mummy why do  you not
love your son?...
Mummy why am i missing you?
mum this is your son please grow up
and be a mum.
Mum i guess don you not want to meet your son ....I HATE YOU MUM!!
MUM what are you doing here i wish it was you laying in my dads grave...
My sister calls ... mummy's dead..why is mummy dead...
Mummy why are you dead?
I wish i could take away every painful thing that i said.

Mummy i miss you I wish you were here.
the hopes of a reunion fade with each tear


DSmith


Its all but a dream


I wake up and see it was all but a dream,
But i have not got a clue,
why i have not shred one tear from my eyes.. I remember when you left when i was young. You said "look to the moon and blow a kiss and i will do the same my son" i look up to the sky i look for the moon and i feel to cry, but my tears run dry whats the point i feel better thinking you're not dead


DSmith




Silence was your plan


Some say suicide is selfish.
some say suicide makes you less of a man.deep own no one can see you pain,
I know you was not right so all I know is the pain you endured in your life was just to great...
you know it kind of feels nice knowing i was the relative in your eyes...
I have come to terms, That you have passed but that does, not mean i do not wish you were here  but i know you're watching now with pride and peace.    

DSmith




eyes that cry


Eyes that cried every night
see you thought you could hide
"but you cant hide" I knew you was not quite right.
I am a strong believer in life after death,
As well as the afterlife, when i go to your grave it just does not feel right.
i know you're still here peeking if only i could see what you are seeing.


DSmith




All chocked up

I am all chocked up ligature marks from this rope that hold my only hope, i am lost and broken the devil in side of me is awoken


DSmith


suicidal mind


Let me let you in on one of my thoughts,
Left out here alone, I am empty and lonely. only to be shed no empathy here i am still remaining empty. no shredding tears as m weakness is my only enemy...
I would get out of bed but the voices wont leave my head... they leave me with no energy, I wake up just to feel dead when i sleep i just sleep to hear you speak,
I remain in a dream, alone,empty and low self esteem...
why do i wake up praying it was all a dream just to look out side and be slapped with reality


DSmith



suicide suicide

Suicide is when two worlds collide
crying eyes,bottled up on the inside
locked in a prison locked inside your mind.



DSmith



Tears from each eye.


late at night i sit there and cry,
Questioning life who, What, Where and why must i carry on.
When i cannot scream nor shout,
Why must i fight, Why cant i leave with out thinking what i would leave behind
it was your time to shine that's why i cry most nights i would rather die than have to live this life, This lie.
My world could have meaning but no my earth dies screaming that why my life is here for me to die.


DSmith


I am trying i really am


I am moving on "well i am trying"
I am moving on only gods know why i have not started grieving or crying.
"whats the point"
"I guess it don't hurt enough"
"why oh why"
it still hurts just not enough.
"yes oh yes i am crying"
"but no more am i trying"
there is no point in telling
my self to start crying
"whats the point "
"i guess it would be lying"


DSmith


  Embrace the bliss


As i hang from these beams,
Falling in to the deepest dreams'
the sun is shining i can see the beams.
Its more beautiful than it could ever seem.
as the air leaves my tar filled lungs
I think of you when you were young,
My heart speeds and then slows.
my fingers tingle then go numb,
NO more struggling no more pain.

Daryll its not your fault let your self grow old and your hair go grey and you self get wiser as you get older.

you will always be my toy soldier,
keep on marching till your children are older there love for you will only grow bolder.

DO NOT LET IFE REMOVE YOU FROM ITS FOLDER.
Picture this, no more pain my life s over remember this just sit back and embrace the bliss.

  DSmith  


unspoken words

Silence many unspoken words,
but not a sound can be heard.
Greed another word for gain
fame another word for vain
deathly walks, A life from stalks
why should we have not a choice
to abort.


DSmith



The real world.

nothing as it seems, Were all asleep
life's but a dream, blues of red and reds of green.
life's but a dream what if i told you the sea was grey the trees not green...
Would you say i am crazy or living a dream, the world is full of love and happiness ..now whose crazy and living in a dream as i say victims cry and sufferers scream is this a nightmare or a repetitive dream.


DSmith



only time will tell

Only time will tell, what if I get ill,
and spend the rest of my life un-well
as I climb i've already fell, I faded away i wake up to cry just to go to sleep to die


DSmith


another suicide scare


Endless suffocation lost in the mix up of a
broken generation, See I claim I am a different kind of patient, i am sat here face full of fake emotion my life goes round in a upside down kind of motion i try to hang my self but the rope turned out to be gods token to hand me a life line I look back I thank god for the real man he has awoken.

DSmith



flower draped



Each day I am dying,
Each day I am crying,
The devil sees me an
mocks my crying,
I try to take my life he
whispers to me,
Why are you trying?
take that knife and start
slicing stick in and twist it
i have your soul i hope you miss
it is this hell or heaven do you
really want to risk it i have but two word your dead i think could this be worse
next time you see me ill be in a flower draped hurst.


DSmith



  As i take these pills

So as i drop this pill i realise i am ill,
I cant sleep does this mean i am ill?
calm -down, chill, but these nightmares are ore than real  sleep deprivation is the very reason i am ill,
So i guess its time to drop another anti psychotic pill oh that my life i love being mentally ill.


DS

EG TEN /V.S/ BLitZ3D

ROUND 1

EG TEN
For the second time around, I won't be too gentle.// You turds can't rhyme for *****, soft as a noodle.// Get rid of that shirt, Wordman, do us a favor.// It ain't bad at all, its just, one size too little.// Ill break you fools in half, straw snapping like a scarecrow// Cowardly lion come out, Monster Smashed you innuendo.// The reason why you got passed by the first time around// Like a girl post some pix up, cut my **** in half, now u goin down// You and Wordman teams up, who cares! a pair of freakin clowns//

BLitZ3D
let um start off first, either way ur a representation of a man in a hearse /hurt um real bad n rubbed his face in the dirt/the pics that I posted was just a ***** in a skirt/sskkirrt! on this *****, like who you ****** with nerd?/ that's a ****** sweater what u talkin bout shirt?/ an what exactly do you think you rhymed off ****?/ ******* from the start, pulled out and drove straight into the curb/ Asian drivers man, they'll never ****** learn/ a coward vs a lion I guess my warning wasn't herd/ why'd you delete the first battle? you coulda reread my words/ then you'd probly remember to go again would be absurd/ but everyone loves a under dog, makes emotion go reverse/ cause then when you go under dog , the wears not even worse/ an no one teamed up on you,/ I tagged in and hulk Hogan lumped a few/ American Dream, elbow jumped at you,/ then to your defense, in ran gorilla monsoon/ the way I see it, the joker popped both of you,/ a heist on ur thread but that's just my point of view./ sights locked retical red, not a sound with the front mount/ knights drop, clown with a crown, and a jester in bed./ leave um slumped out/ /roar/ I messed with his head/ take my advice and this cypher ...just jump out

Round 2

EG TEN
Let um start off first? Now what the **** was that?// Your no king of the jungle, but a little ***** cat!// A blissful of zits in your face a sign disgusting// BlitZed does not show off his face an ugly duckling// My rhyme is in verse, so fresh with multiple gears on my Hearse// You can't spit for *****, so your *** be going in reverse// A fan of hulkamania? That **** ain't real brotha!.// I bet your next line would be "Hakuna Matata!// You ain't no **** Mufasa, your like that fool Scar hangin out With them ugly *** Hyena// I laugh at you BlitZed, I ******, I flip the script with my skills// Your elbow dropped not fast enough a straight kick up your chest!// This is SPARTA!!!! So jump on out! off to the next round// Welcome to the Writer's Creed, A true MC battleground!//

BLitZ3D
if this is Sparta then ***** I'm Gannicus,/ two swords in my hand while u attack with some shallow ****/ your **** right I'm scar and ull still bow down to this/ u wont get to far hyenas surround in the mist/ Hakuna Matata but theres reason to worry kid/ shoot um point blank an laugh as he say the dots are blury miss/ from his stomach out leaks guts an curry strips/ no lines to connect, his souls in a hurry, drips,/ out his mouth like his mom as she dines in nutty bliss/ bust um quick like his dad, his sister we both miss/ a cute little thing, deaf dumb n blind, snitch/ I think not, i broke her fingers, a tight grip/ dropped her leg and screamed Hogan wins/ layed on top of her and counted to three/ donkey punched that ***** in the head an continued to proceed/ so ask her how much I give a **** about writers creed //

ROUND 3

EG TEN
You claim to be a Marvel-Super-Villain-God-Like / If you are Galactus" I'm Lactose - Bacilli / Fermented like Lactic Acids what I spit!/ A genus of original but your just a make belief/ BlitZed please! step it ^ up a bit higher/ Your dealing with an oldskool underground ****** / None of that Kindergarten *****' of entry level / My words may be shallow but yet sharp as a Razor / Your write- wrist slice the veins blood burst just like a geyser / My word plays undefeated so try a little Monster / I sMashed your Baked Potatoe with chives a little butter / On side some bits of bacon a Cub is now a Lion / If you don't understand, im at work im eating Lunch / Im on break and wasted half of my time you little punk/ But its cool It's all in fun and that's what its all about / In a place full of infected A cesspool full of talent / Respect to my opponent a true Warrior of Poets / A Monster Mash Creator, A Master of Salvation / The bad *** Mr. BlitZed, Will continue this ***** later-/ Here at Writer's Creed, or where ever else you pleased/

BLitZ3D
A mutant, a radioactive contusion./My ***, gave it gas, now im ******* moving./Onto the end, the finish line, a ******* shoe in./Im new an, your old news, news i knew and /screws im loosing, as we pretend this battle im loosing, wrap it up with a few loose ends, /confusing, a thriving city, up an left it in ruins./Black cloaked, hooded druid, IV fluids, /Gat broke, firing pin, out i chewed it, trigger squeezed now, told you id do it./Ten teeth marks on the barrel, yea EG blew it./Face on some blue ****, stiff Elmers glue tip, /sticky grip, stick um up, Richy Rich, Jackson upper cuts, a Rampage, no *****./Bomb on the stage, chickens with no cluck./Took a bomb on stage, chicken heads, my ***** well ******./Salmonella poisoning, chocked the chicken, she likes it real rough. /In an out, left and right, my blade keeps the feathers well plucked. /Goose and a swan, I recognize no duck, bad luck, body covered up in the back of the truck./One G, no UN, i see, just me..no pun./Mission complete, no fun, grey skies, trust me, no sun.. rains not done. /Bars run from bars, bring the heavens down from the stars, impacts bombard/even from behind bars locked cars explode far, gorilla tactics, no holds bared, reload the AR/Re-roll a new cigar, as i retold, another page from Scar/12 bubbles Gage the contents of this unmarked mason jar./I know your popping some corny something, but i wasn't listening./Busy kicking it with Popcorn Sutton, drinking an smoking **** in the kitchen./These lines must be glitching, space-time the fabrics ripping./Physics are ******, i need a new physician./Watch as my feet move, roots grew planted in a quantum position./Like Groot, stomp um like a twig, raging tunnel vision./A ton of incisions, a gun mixed with questionable decisions. /A life for a life, changes nothing, for both sides the death penalty still glistens./the only difference is the same as this blunt. *****, BLitZ3D is still hitting. /Next time i roar a warning make sure you ******* listen... /
battle?
Im already bored with you
.....
I pulled a gun
And a sword you drew

Again...I missed the school bus
Easy...I blamed my dad
He ran too slow
Failed to chase the bus for me
Disgusted... I refused to speak
Annoyed...Sitting in the living...
Staring at the window..
Outside a heavy downpour...
Silently blaming the rain
If it wasn’t too cold that morning..
I wouldn’t have pulled my blanket ...
And closed my eyes too tight...
A ROARING rain in my heart...

I heard dad was shouting at mom
He blamed mom for waking up late
An expected storm ... mom bursts in the kitchen...
No blaming me she said... extremely loud
The alarm clock... went silent you know!!
A chocked in her throat...
A tiny tear at the corner of her eyes...
Steamy Air of tension surrounded the house...

It was easy to blame the alarm clock
For a moment I thought...
It wouldn’t shout back to defend itself
It went dead... it wasn’t anybody’s fault...
I missed the bus, dad missed his work...
Mom missed her "morning good bye" kiss...
The cute alarm clock ... a gift from my aunty
Stood by the bed so timidly... so innocently...

Unexpectedly...
My Furious-ed dad... threw the alarm clock out the window
Surprisingly... it was screaming in the rain
Perhaps...Tired of our blaming game..
Funny...As it fell to the ground..
Kring!! Kring!! Kring!! So loud so clear was the sound..
Instead of getting mad...
Dad, Mom and me... giggled...
We were all laughing like mad...
A damaged machine in the heavy rain...
Tickled our hearts...

Exhausted, Celia laid in bed.
Staring at a cockroach trapped on a spider web.
She laid in bed, motionless.
Thinking of what she had done two minutes ago.
In a matter of seconds she had chocked and mutilated him.
She had cut his hands, cut his throat and his manly *****.
In her mind he kept insulting and belittling her,
but she had been stronger.
She had defended herself.
He could no longer take advantage of her.
Celia saw how the cockroach gasped for her last breath
while the spider started to rip her apart starting with her heart.

But as always when the sun peeked through the window,
Celia saw him there,
sleeping beside her.
A dormant lion, who would soon come for his prey.

As I lie awake at night I can’t help, but think
Think of all the things that person said to me
Think of all the ways I’ve embarrassed myself
Think of all the things I said to that boy
While he wasn’t giving me a second of his time

I didn’t ask for this
I didn’t ask for these thoughts to run through my head
All these ‘What if’s and ‘No, not that’s
I didn’t ask to get chocked up every time I talk to someone because I’m afraid I might say something I might regret.
And yet, that seems to be every word that tumbles from my mouth
Like a faucet full of remorse that can not be shut off

Watching other people I can only seem to hate them as I pray to some sort of all-powering being that I will be able to over-come this
That one day I will be able to freely roll words off of my tongue without wishing I could gobble them back up.
And yet everyone else is able to do it
They are all able to say what they want
To express their opinions with no second thoughts
With no worries that someone might disagree

Every morning is a struggle just to pry myself from my sheets
To face every day with a smile
Because lately even picking out a outfit I find exceptable seems torturous
And then half way through first period I decide I shouldn’t have worn it

And there’s no escape
I always have this weight on my shoulder that is weighed down with nasty words my brain has formed
Picking at the slivers of self-confidence I have left.
Like a hungry Vulture cleaning up scraps on the side of the road

And some people have to power to fix it
They become stronger
And learn how to be better
And I? I lie awake at night. And I can’t help but think

Tell me what they have told you about seas, the lost ones,
The ones they keep romanticizing,
Kept sugar coating its depth with love metaphors and tumblr aesthetics.
I've been under the water for years
And let me tell you it is not poetic, it is not even scientifically provoking.
So when i tell you I'm drowning I'm not making significant love confession or some movie pick up line. When I tell you I'm drowning It means I'm out of daylights
to occupy,
It's been days since the last time sun broke through my skin,
It means I’ve been wasting too many lungs on acid smoke and stolen identity,
It means I spilled the half-water left in the cup.
Thick layers of wreckage, fatal survival attempts, and letters of grudges to  your last forgotten birth-day.
I would have set fires to lead you back home, or enough to burn it
I would’ve set flames and birthday cakes
I would’ve lit fifteen candles and spelled your name and sang you a'happybirthday' without sounding like the apologies they never left.
But you know what they say about gasoline invading waters
it's been ages since fire last gave up her fight.

[FLASH-BACK]:
it's your mom first homemade in 3 months, it's baked mac and cheese with chicken, your favorite, you say thankyou as she sits down and puts more macaroni in your plate, sober than ever.
Your dad steals a smile to his plate then to you
it's been so long since this dining room were alive you could almost swear that walls were cursing you names and chanting foreign prayers into your ears
but the taste of normality is much better than hospital waiting rooms.

[FLASH-FORWARD]:
Count to fifteen, and fell yourself with objectless activities to avoid becoming,
because it's better sleeping away your reality than acknowledge it, isn't it?
Between Your Father's empty liquors,
And your Mom's Xanax ,
count to fifteen.

[REWIND]:
the noises calls out of the bathroom just like the one on your thanksgiving
Count to fifteen,
This is not what you think it is
Count to fifteen.
It is what you think it is.
Count to fifteen.
it's never your fault
Count to fifteen.
psychiatrists say it'll pass.
Too Much statistics to put faith into

[PRESS PAUSE]:
Plates are empty, again
Packed Bags under your eyes beneath thick walls of unsaid iloveyous, chocked up on a family dinners.

[PRESS PLAY]:
Now it's just you and your dad again
They say it's for the best,
They tell you everything will be okay
And You tell your friends you're fine,
because why other wise?
That the earth isn't swelling, that you aren't sweating, that you prefer long sleeves even in the hot summer days because why not, right?
Like big cycles of lies and vice verses of irony.

But for all what’s worth, may my words give you the lifeline you need.
And may you let die to let regain to let life breathe you again.

I think that I've become the one
who's every choice brings pain
who's every adventure ended in other's tears
who's every action cost other's dearly

I think I've been the one to load the gun
that always craved more and never learned to refrain
that made the night times turn cold and bring in fears
who's lied in every word spoken clearly

I think I've become the boy
who takes but never gives of himself
who wants the world for his toy
and drinks it down to his own health

I think I made this bed where I lie
and made it feel unloving to hold my hand
I watched so many suffer in tears as they cried
and I listened with no intention to ever understand


I think I broke the skin with my kiss
and stole the prized things they'd miss
I think I said I cared then let them slit their wrists
and I created this

the world stopped loving me
they all stopped loving me
they all saw through the guise and learned to hate the mayhem
and no one can blame them


I think that I've choked all lasting love dead
and poured bitter ink in all the wine
I think I've left stains with everything I've said
eaten all the fruit and killed the vine

I think I sold their affections for things that shine
I think I've smashed my own glass walls
I think I'm about to suffer the cost of selfish crimes
and see that I'm left with nothing at all


I think I bled them dry chasing a bliss
and touched the soft with a crippling fist
I think I promised but never cared of promises missed
and I created this

they all stopped loving me
my world stopped loving me
they all chocked for the last time on my poisoned mayhem
and no one can blame them

Young love thrives on the lies literature tells, the boat rides and the promise of an ending that includes wedding bells.

My love died on the same twinkle of star that also lit my heart. We were doomed before our troublesome start.

So let me tell you the truth, you loved me and I loved you. But at the same time your tongue spit these words out into the bitter air, spiders and ghouls were placed there.

By the time you cut the sanity out of what was yours and mine; tore up the memories that kept me fine; and set fire to everything you could find, I was already at bay with thoughts of  mine.

I clipped at my hair because “it looks so pretty long." And I curse through the lyrics to your favorite song.

I bit off my nails because “your nails are so pretty when you paint them" but not bare according to you. Your new girl with the french tips prove true.

I smoked and I drank and I threw up whiskey, I passed out till I could no longer pass out anymore and I put on those jeans you once wore, and I chocked on a giggle because of that cute dent I remembered you knocked in my car door.

When it's all over and done and when I can start to drink for the fun will be the day I will no longer curse my past, for surely I knew our devilish love could not last.

It is important to never trust a Rumazoid
it is important to remember
that to them lies are truth
and truth are lies
they reject Oneness with the universe
and embrace The Process of Rejection
their religion is one of disbelieve
their moral code a sin chocked chaos
of sneering laughter and sneaky murders
and love as theft.

This makes them buggers to play cards with.

discipline keeps the mind focussed
a sick laughing in the background
rivers of knowledge, psychology

i got your back if you got mine
ancestors stole my land, my brain
existence revolves around dollars

you don't know the voices in my head
they are trying to control me, kid
how can they spot my very location?

i was born in a dump, my father a drunk
my momma died during my birth; my fault?
let me blow up all the golden buildings

my mind be the place where i make plans
people told me that "slang" was "horrible"
nobody has to like that, you feel me?

my skin color is black and white, you know?
don't let them get into my head, **** voices
can i walk the streets freely? who trusts me?

golden opportunities all over the place
don't ask a nameless what his name is
he will never tell you but shoot someone

it's simply not wise, we want justice
when your heart is turning ice cold
hour of the *******, hour of the sucker

the bassline trembles, i'm shivering
females are entering my safe house
armed with prejudices and dishonor

i'm already dead, words chocked me
too much poetry, nowhere to go
**** this end, i will come back!

Another plain ole average day. Facing the treacherous walk through the bustling streets. Swimming against the fish who never look up. Distracted constantly. Faces you'd never know, were people too.
Forecast predicted some winds. Advisory to stay at home. We all know there is no such thing when it comes to work. Grabbed the rain coat and on I went. Barely made it a single block. Couldn't see two street lights ahead. The fish were scarred. Slamming off one another. This was no average storm.
A splash. A wave. Puddle ruined my pants. Passing car coated me with only god knows what. These were ***** waters. Soon rivers, took over the concrete. A rainforest of a jungle now. My tie chocked up my neck. Briefcase forced me to sink.
My eyes soon were teased. I was stranded out at sea, or so it seemed. Until I crashed into an island. I soon found as a haven. Standing beneath the city clock. I waited patiently. Knowing I would never survive out there. Until, a beacon shined through all the grey.
My skin froze. No, not from the rain. From the way this women looked at me. Hesitant yet amazed. Awe filled up inside her faster than it did in me. I blinked. Thought maybe I have finally gone insane. But no, this was happening. We both stood in place as if the hands of time broke down. Something kept the gears idle within the clock tower.
We were drenched from the passing storm. Standing under this monument. We paused accepting the falling waters of the sky. Cowardly so, we never even spoke. Just admired. Simply and silently. Two statues stuck in a daze. Standing as skyscrapers amongst umbrellas.
Looking into each other for a moment that lasted long beyond both our years. The water washed away our wear and tears. The city vanished. The storm ceased to be a bother. The fish faded into the ocean. It was just me and her. Shipwrecked. Stranded. Alone. Or so we thought before. Soon learned, our destinations were never meant to be. We fell in love. Swiftly and unexpectedly. The way the heavens intended. Grey clouds blew through us both and out came the sun. If not for this treacherous storm, I would have never met... her.

- Nicholas A. McNutt

Oh sorrowful song,
As the chords they go—lifting minors
And falling majors, flat to the eyes, D minor
Of the saddest song:

                    He sings with a choke of voice
                    Smoke from the lungs, a smokers abyss
                    His pipes are cold,
                    Blackened in the airways of the exhaust
                    Exhausted by the pleasures; only pleasurable at first.

Oh where are the words
The words to speak ill of another colour
Must of been caught up in the smoke—in the years
The years he said them marginalizing without remorse
In it's race, sped into discriminating; on his own tracks
Of how the world must only revolve around him
His wife had shed a tear in her prayers, "Lord do a working in him"

                   But his heart was made cold and hard
                   A stone—paved by cement of his opinions concrete
                   His racist abuse was made public, non discreet
                   So how would he fit a colour of world being discrete?

Oh the upbringing, hierarchy forced in eyes
To follow a father's pride—a fitting bride
He was unaware she wasn't hundred percent white
And in the end, both father and son died alike
Ironically chocked by the black smoke rewarding cancer inside

                    The sad life of the black smoke racist🚬


                        The son hopes not to follow his father's line of smoke.

She chocked out between tears
"But, I love you"
He replied contently
"I love you, but"

Tender means easily broken.
broken like a teapot,
shattered like glass.
Transparent means too clear.
clear as day,
crystal as mine.
Trickery means masked to fool.
Fool who fell,
****** who dare.
Trapped means suffocated.
suffocated by drama,
chocked by insecurities.
Hurt means cruel pain.
cruel pain in the chest,
burned out in the heart.
And though I wish I were less blunt. My heart is hurt, my lungs have stopped. My brain is goo, because of you. but you play it off well, so do as you do. I try to be calm and forget it, you know, but this bitter feeling continues to flow. It hurts worst than shows can make it seem, but the show must go on for every scene. So no scars, no death, no drama I swear. And I'll be like I always was. I'll always be there. It's not your fault and will never be. If only...no never mind. Well....if only she was me.

Slit to split slip
knotted strings
attached to every

balloon chocked up
colored chakra covered

balloons Up with Ellie's
babies and belongings in a
cloudless storage space

Unnecessary thus unused
then unreal: the fading of

love as a mother tongue
unspoken for generations
at a time dies out, eventually

the helium depletes or
something pops off

In the midst of my finest hour,  i lick the power and
choke on the sour
fingers and

coming up and out again to scream
i've arrived at my destination like
some hands on my back again
i'm glad i've realized i'm exactly the difference
of what your best friend's friend's worst enemy
(some ******* like that)

one word can change everything-

what have you become
can't say it's not all my fault, but
all these purposes have gotten worse
as i walk slower down the hallway,
people chocked up together
bonding, yelling
screaming out

Holy Christ,
i've come to rea
lize that i can't remember
why i thought i loved you
(or some **** like that )

(like some obsessive stalker,
getting darker in the night
fading in and eating my oxygen
lighting myself on fire to see my surroundings)

stubborn and obnoxious,
loud and angry
i've come to know i can't be like you, that
you're my enemy

take it with a grain of salt, dear
there's some fear in pathos
paths of pathos
lining up to be shot on the spot
disintegrated
disgusting
delusional and abysmal
i may be that of which can haunt you as you haunted me but
a little smile
can perk around
i'll come around
maybe you'll grow up
to see something and be a little less blind

i hope so (all the time)