an aha moment, by definition, is a sudden insight or discovery.
you used to have those a lot.
when you found your other sock,
when you realized what ingredient was missing in your cookies,
when you remembered where you put your keys,
when you met me.... "aha."

you made me feel like you were Columbus and you were finally discovering what you had been looking for
and me, I was just waiting to be found.
i remember you telling me that you didn't believe in love at first sight, but you believed in whatever surged through you when you saw me that night.
you said i was what you missed without knowing... "aha."

when you would try to find out new things about me,
things i couldn't see
it made me feel so special, because no one ever thought there was something there to study
not my even my family or me
with every little discovery, those three letters would slip through your stupid grin, "aha."

i remember thinking, "this is what i needed. this is why nothing else has ever worked out, it's because i need to love an explorer."
but the problem with loving an explorer is once there's nothing new left to discover, they move on.

the aha moments grew less and less frequent as time went on.
you had memorized me like one of your favorite indie records, picked apart my lyrics and listened to every crescendo and eighth note.
you knew every staccato, every rest, every sharp and flat. every little quirk that made me different, you had truly pondered.
but no matter how much you like a song at first, you can only hear it so many times before getting sick of it.

the problem with loving an explorer is once there's nothing new left to discover, they move on.

no wanderlust struck human being stays in one place long, they fall in love with one land and once there's no mystery in it anymore, they fall in love with another land.
you met your next land on an exciting voyage across the sea, miles away from where i was, when you told me you just had to take care of a few things.
you hadn't been able to say your favorite word in a long time.
so when you met her, i bet you whispered under your breath, with that stupid grin I thought was reserved for me... "aha."

an aha moment, by definition, means a sudden insight or discovery.
you used to have those a lot.
you had one the day you left.
something in your brain clicked, and  the realization hit you like a brick.
"i don't love her anymore... aha."

Treating life as a means to an end
will only make your death come sooner
a chronological record of each broken tailbone
but I guess some people just like falling on their *****.
Personally, I like growing my tails
using them to jump a little higher
maybe that’s just me, though.
Yet, if you’re always surrounded by the blackened earth
you might have to get your hands a bit *****
climbing from that unhandled abyss
just dont forget, master colombus, that the land of the free
is just a place in your memory
Now don’t go around waiting for me
I’ll come to you
scrambling through single-pixel tunnels
my expression is a blur shifting constantly
but dont you know, a black hole couldnt reverse my inertia
I’m bound to you with something stronger than gravity
I’m a sound wave on a direct path
I’m found without weight
you’re mine to find, can’t you feel my mind?
If you’re the waterfall, then I’m the river
taking each crash of your waves
it reminds me of this song I used to know
about how we’re expansive and massive
and surrounded by infinity
suppose that makes us nothing, just passive
So as the bright and shining moon,
you stay on your ellipse,
and I’ll drag the sun into you,
and maybe our collision will create something new
because in a universe thats collapsing anyways
lets take this synergy and carry through.

Precursor:

I met a girl who ran from her own footsteps. The harder she ran, the louder the pounding, the greater the fear. She either couldn't stop moving, or became paralyzed.

and this is for you.

I wish I could write poems for you, but I can't quite pinpoint your soul on the map of my heart. It's expansive like the ocean- sometimes you're Christopher Colombus, and sometimes you are North America. Complex like the wonders of space. More captivating than a dying star on it's last stage of nebula spilling light and color into the cosmos as it kisses the darkness goodbye. Your soul is a locket and the universe is inside glowing against your human heart, and your eyes aren't big enough windows to see it all. Your fingers are secret entrances into the place that no one goes as you solemnly strum out your sorrows and joys. Sometimes you are the ocean, sometimes you are the bottle, and sometimes you are the message inside! Moving along with space and this thing we call time~ you are revered. A goddess amongst humanity for the sprinkle of divine that's touched you, kissed you, birthed itself within you. You may refuse to see the halo floating above your ether, but I promise its golden light shines upon those who forget that they are not alone. In their hurt you remind them that this is what it is to be human. You are what it is to be alive. Changing with the wind you fear your face is a facade.You are not who you were, and you don't know who you will be, and whoever said it must be one way has robbed you of the truth. Because constant consistency is for the complacent and change is the destiny of the alien angels that inhibit this earth, moving us towards a higher consciousness. Your secret language you hide between your bones is craved by those who are controlled by silence- bring them to life with the breath of truth you possess. Your fear makes you selfish, so steam forward full force, with self abandonment.
You, my beautiful.
You, my love.
You, are meant to change this world.
If I had to pinpoint your soul on the map of my heart,
I might guess you were an extraterrestrial threat- an alien-
born among us to bring heaven to hell. So let your burning heart go among this icy world. Don't fear the unknown, it's pertinent to your existence. Someday you will know, but for now, let your heart speak the things your mind cannot comprehend.

The templars took the cross
and made it a religion rose
a psychological overseen dome
of acquiesce and admiration

What if there weren't any slaves?
only mercenaries who craved
for power and a subservience rave
across the vast seas and distances

We trace the Omlec race in Americans
way before Colombus leaped his strides
as they left scented archeological remnants
of basalt and granite sculptured rights

The templars took the cross
and created glorified corded bonds
aesthetically covered with an overseer
of utter deceit and embellished conmanship

Maybe he thought you were special
because of your silence,
How your aura came of as depressingly shy to him.

To him you were his puzzle,
He wanted to twist and scramble around in your mind with the joy and innocent wonder of a five year old.

A discovery,
That's what you were you him.
Something untouched.
And when he touched you,
You were his world.

As he traced his finger down the curves of your hips they become beautiful grass laden hills  

When he kissed your lips he felt like Adam taking a bite from an apple in the garden of Eden.

Until then you were undiscovered,
A beauty shut out from the world,
like most beauties are.

So he made the voyage
Made his home in your heart
Cultivated a civilization of nurturing care. You thought he was something like Jesus but when you look at it now he was more like Colombus

A lot more damage. A lot less to remember.

Welcome welcome my dear mother.
From a long journey.
Without I feeling the love of wonder.
That mother gives which sweet like honey.

Welcome welcome my dear mother.
It is my pleasure,
we behold each other.
For you are my treasure.

Welcome welcome my dear mother.
Come in and have a  seat
so that I may tell you  what I suffer'.
In your absence  
father gave me bitter beat.

Welcome welcome my dear mother.
Your present provide  joy
rather than that of  father
who don't allow me to enjoy.

Welcome welcome my dear mother.
Father is not usually at home for me.
He became a feather.
The next Colombus to be.

Welcome welcome my dear mother.
Hear the pain I went through.
In your absence, I stayed lonely under
this roof like a refuse long threw.

Welcome welcome my dear mother.
I stayed long without a friend
to communicate and play with rather
my life came to an   end.

welcome welcome my dear mother
i hope you will not travel again
in any kind of weather
so that my joy will
sustain.

if only someone could rise from the grave,

and tell me what lies beyond this world,

perhaps I’d wake up knowing,

heaven isn’t like this,

that it won’t stink of dead children,

that english won’t haunt our tongues,

that it isn’t discovered by Colombus or another white man who seems to discover everything for us,

that its rivers won’t be flowing with our ancestors tears

and its homes won’t be built on their steel-like spines,

because maybe, heaven won’t know grief like black mothers,

won’t have to soak in the injustices white terrorism scattered,

wont bleach out my history and skin,

because if even in heaven my people are refugees,

if they’re still numb ****** and foreign speaking terrorists,

if my existence is still a cause of discomfort for the ‘normal’ folk

then past the grave ,

nothing but stillness awaits people like me,

but at least all this pain and violence won’t follow us to the grave,

coz’ if even if our lives were designed for wounds and pain,

it won’t be here,

At least my grave,

Won’t take my life twice.

// If heaven is still like this

protest slogan: what we gonna build! social utopia! how we gonna do it!? by throwing a... brick. / revolution! revolution! wear a t-shirt! it's the only solution!

this G20 brought something up
to my attention,
  americans and canadian
journalists discovering europe...
like the european colombus
discovering land,
these north american pansies
are discovering protest-politics
           of europe...
wow, i thought (and i thought
  i was the village idiot around here),
  but i actually didn't know
anything about the name i heard
just today... eerie...
   *die schwarz block, yaaaa?
yep, left hand on my shoulder
and right hand on my heart -
khakiscout's honour / a straitjacket
                                    pose...
                so i thought i get introduced
and think about joining
them...
    i watched a few videos...
these ******* don't know what
a d.i.y. store looks like,
    let alone a construction site,
    or a metal works plant...
(you know how many weapons
are in those places? mmm?
   why aren't any of these people
tapping into their arsenal?!)...
you being serious? with bricks
& sticks... sure, they won't
break my bones,
   and they certainly won't
break anything other than
a joke in stand-up comedy
venues across the world...
   so after being introduced
to the moo-ve-ment?
   the usual, poured myself a
sharpshooter of *** and ms. pepsi,
and put on
   die krupps song
                  nazis auf speed -
proclaiming in my mind:
    i support!       neither side!
well, as the saying goes -
    is there a saying for a freedom
of violence?
                    pick-a-punch...
pinch-punch-first-o­f-the-month...
now i know why i should have
****** off with my left hand...
    at least it would be as strong
                   as my right hand,
          ah... but it's never too late.
god bless the village life....
i have to admit, en masse, they do
look pretty cool -
                 almost like the police,
the police of utopia?
                  what is that, ideology?
i don't know...
         had i known?
         i still wouldn't have cared.

Colombus, Selena, Zia, Rachel
Each with a different story
Jewish, Entitled, Slave, Terrorist,
Named with a thought of history

Colored, Black, Asian, Arab
These names we assign on assumption,
Helena, Winfrey, Yuna, Amal
Names we will never find out

Each with a different story
A whole life of mysteries
Because we will never find out,
Instead,
We name with a thought of history,
Making our thoughts their mystery,
By names we assign on assumption

But all it takes, to expel the misconceptions,
Is Two,
The person with the story,
And the courageous one who listens....

While shakespeare closes his book
While Colombus sets his sail
Don't give me that look
I need to bail

Somehow i survive
The killing blow of Kraken
But I wouldn't know if I'll thrive
But I was still shaken
By her words

People cites their science
While Kenway sails away from his past
But I know something was wrong ever since
I saw everything turned to dust

I'm away, now
Sail away
Now you're awake
For my sake
Let me sail away