It rained for three straight days
during my first visit
to you.
Fitting. I should have expected as much.
Especially if it corresponds to your happiness,
I can only be more thrilled
about rain
and what it brings down with it
and the slates it washes clean.

We drank with reservations
and read poetry with gusto
and fell to the floor with love
as the thunder clapped across the
valley
and the rain poured from our skin.

You are small,
not even close to helpless,
but I would face down anything
so that your hands may stay and fit
so delicately in mine and
so your lips would find mine
again.

When we met, finally,
and I felt your frame fall into mine,
trusting me enough for that
so soon,
I was honored,
and I knew that the fears I had
about what this would be like,
what you might be like,
what we might be like,
were unfounded,
and very complicatedly so.

Wouldn't it have been easier
to despise the other?
But no,
instead we fell into rhythm
as if we had never been out of sync,
we fell  into and onto each other
time and again
in ways that could only be described as
perfection.

I saw you gaze onto me
with a mystique only Picasso himself
would be able to render,
so I lost myself in your eyes
with words I've known for
long and with thoughts I could
finally say.

It rained for three straight days,
but on the day I left
the sun beamed through the sky.
So I left,
with kisses and kind words,
and it wasn't until I was on
the excruciating road back
that I realized
I was leaving home
for the second time
in only one trip.

Once I was asked this question. I gave a thought upon it. It took me so much time to figure out, I think I was correct on what I was thinking , then I was like no maybe I would never be able to figure out.
Then a voice came from inside. It said , "I am fragile" .

My tears of conscience

She flickers with vibrations of mighty fear.
She is shy as well as shameless.
She possesses multiple split personas.
She is confused yet complicatedly simplified.
She is fluid and heavy as mercury.
She craves for attention, but sometimes wants to live in suspension.
She is immortal still dies for nirvana.

We have been given a
                   WORLD
Where
                Thinking.
Is.
     Just.
             Not.
  Required.
              Who says Zombies
                                         Cannot Exist?
Are not walking
                            Among us.
     Void Emotion.
                              Void Human
                                                     Sincerity.
This
        'Functioning Society'
                       We have greedily gobbled
From a Silver,
                         Gold plated platter.
Does not support
                              Connection.
Promotes Private.
                 Singular Successes.
One ocean of
                       Opportunity.
                                                 How?
Tell a bird to swim.
                           Hold it's breath.
To halt it's lovely
                             Song?
It will
            Perish.
                         Forced to
                                           Thrive,
                                           Live,
                                           Exist,
                                          Be Content
In conditions it was not
                                         Designed
                                                           to Flourish.
You.
         Have a Particular,
                                         Admonishing
               Spirit.
Designed for a Certain
                                       Purpose.
The Human
                      Frailty,
Deemed
               Consciousness,
Possessing Thought.
                                    Curses
                                                     and
                                    Prizes.
The ability to choose a
                                         Niche.
Complicatedly,
                            Distraught and
Scared.
              We all begin to carve.
Choose Air,
                    Fire,
                            Water.
As our ideal conditions.
                    In which lies, Your
                                                      Destiny.


**Dec 2, 2013

The simple yet complicatedly beautiful touch of hers made him feel as delicate as a feather.
Her fingertips would lightly graze against the curves in his arm, it was as if she could see edges in his muscles that he could not.
The movements were not sensual but more endearing and sad.
Her eyes sang songs and moaned melodies from enduring the pain she felt when being able to touch him for these moments knowing it would end.
Darling, my heart is drunk. Drunk off of you and she’s afraid of the hangover that intrigued as well.
The game of hers did not help with the way she wanted to sleep.
Being dangerous with her helped him figure out how he wanted to die.
He wanted everything and she did not want anything.
While she was going under he was pulling at her strings trying to get her to rise as high as he was.
They were birds floating across clouds and riding on their small gusts of air, but one of them was crying while the other one laughed.
His wings would slap her while he was trying to help her fly with him.
And he had no idea.
She enjoyed it either way.

Stickers and wires riddle your chest
Complicatedly tethering you to your room,
Where you watch the morning news in socks,
Pairs of socks and blankets
That can’t stop the coldness of the tile
From slipping through your skin,
Goosebumps, the cold grabs hold of your leg
And pulls it out from under you.
Cold, when the needle enters your skin,
Even colder, waiting for someone,
Clean sheets but not like home
Fresh pressed and sanitized,
Tube up your nose, down your throat,
A get well soon card watches.

Complicatedly indebted with everything,
Unstably labelled with a thing so unjust,
Freak,
Defining nothing with some meaningful nothing,
Feeling someone there but everything is so,
Weak,
Deserving better than that unnerving something,
Flirting closer with that endlessly relentless nothing,
Speak

Riddles surround enigmas and make a hollow whole,
Middle grounds and eventual stigmas poking holes,
Lie,
Circles are running around corners to hide,
Creating paradoxes and imaginary divides,
Why?
Nothing dictates something from nothing,
Something creates everything from one thing,
Try

I’m losing out, leaving doubt without sound,
Breaking from a sorry existence and gaining some distance,
Free,
I’m forging new ideas out of old fears,
Borrowing destructive license to forget my conscience sitting on the fence,
See,
I’m interfering with fate steering into new states,
I’m sorry I’m late, I’m worried I’m, wait,
Me

Memory of fantasy and lunacy,
It’s all too real to me,
Motions of fear and love,
Are all I ever see,
Reactions of violence, contraction to silence,
I've got to let it go for it to let me be,
To let me be,
Let me be me

What would happen if I stopped?
Simply stopped.
Would it be all that bad?
No,
no it would not.

I sit frozen in front
of the fridge the cupboards
stocked full
but nothing to eat.
So maybe I'll just stop.

I'm exhausted
but lay awake,
so maybe I'll just stop.

Would it be all that bad?
No,
No it would not.
This life is complicatedly simple,
and very hard
and very scary
and very sad,
so maybe I'll just stop.

After all,
Living isn't for everyone.

I'm just an average guy...
I've got normal problems and a normal life
I've also got a voice inside
silently speaking - sounds of my mind
I wonder, does it have a mind of its own?
Always flooding like a river formed by a hurricane,
if my head gets too cloudy,
there'll be a high chance of rain and scattered brainstorms

It might short-fuse my hippocampus
unable to remember how to see;
a blacked-out occipital lobe
I still don't see how the backs of our brains allow us to see
through the front our faces and out of our eyes,
where most of the water falls
despite the brain's overflowing, muddy river,
or the temporary lack of sight,
I still have a voice.

And with it, I will share all of the stories stored within this blackbox,
and only this light can find them and shine on them.
My voice, a wave riding my mind's ocean's surface
This voice, this wave, this sound,
a complicatedly, clear conscious,
called into focus...
[a sound of (my) mind]

I am that girl who, loves the smell of gasoline, hate hypocrites,  and sometimes talk to much Even though I think I'm not talking enough but then someone tells me to slow down  or shut up and now I just realized I'm talking to much.
I am that girl who, is constantly looking over my shoulder looking for those who attack me on the daily.
I sit in my  closet and cry until  I feel my body falling to pieces, wretched from my lips are the cries of despair and pain that I  hold back.
However I am not this girl:
The girl who is okay with the bullying,
The girl who is okay with the abuse,
The girl who is okay with the ****,
The girl who is okay with not being allowed to feel comfortable in her own sexuality,
The girl who okay with not having a voice.
I am not that girl.
Never was, never will be,
I am not okay with these things.
Please do not treat me with kid gloves for yes I am as fragile as a china doll and if you drop me I might break but I will look pretty and smile through the tears.
Sometimes I feel like I haven't Breathed.
Like its been a decade since I last went to sleep.
So no I'm not all smiles, I'm not straight, and I'm definitely not okay but that is me.
That's How I complicatedly describe me.
And maybe its the end of me.
The me behind the mask, behind the band-aids, holding together the pieces.

I dreampt that together, in scope (& in character), we could complicate the complexities of complexes; we could complicatedly explore the complexes within complexities; within complications yet without complexions...Oh, I'm eating yogurt. Nothing fazes me, the stays & hanging delays. So, I'm eating yogurt. Nothing by phase fazes me, the stops, quick jerks & delays. For holy ****'s sacred sake I need to yell at decaffeinated coffee personnel during today's abbreviatedly-prolonged coffee break.

I look at you and get mesmerized of how accommodating your eyes are,
But as I continue to stare I find myself drowning in the deepness that they bear.
It contains a vast complicatedly simple emotions that words can’t explain,
Every blink that you do arouses my emotional curiosity, I am getting insane.

Never have I ever felt inadequate in expressing my intentions through words,
May it through poems, letters, or songs, i use it as to comfort or if needed as a sword.
Yet being with you makes me feel insignificant, you are the universe,
I am this brightly shining star yet still incomparable to you, you are beautiful and fierce.

Atlas may hold the earth in his shoulders but he can’t be compared to me,
I carry you, my universe, you are safely kept in my heart, everbody soon will see.
This heavy responsibility everyday makes or breaks my being,
The thought of losing you makes me feel like I am only existing than living.

Everyday passes by, and I can’t think any other ways that I could do to please you my dear,
I have read all the books and watch all the videos about love all it gives me are tears.
Tears coming deep inside my very being, tears of sadness? NO it is of great joy.
Since all the books and videos only reminds me of how lucky i am, this feeling i truly enjoy.

With every smile and laugh that you make, it colors my monotonous days,
The sound of your laughter is the brush that paints my world, your smile is the suns rays.
Now my world is colorful and comfortably warm,
What did I ever do to deserve you? You have always been my charm.

All my prayers have been heard, all my wishes came true ever since we have been together,
If someone asked me, what are you willing to give up, well everything except her.
I don’t need to have a genius level intellect to know that you are the best for me,
My love for you is close to infinity, a bit less than forever, however a lifetime it will be.

I dreampt that together, in scope (& in character), we could complicate the complexities of complexes; we could complicatedly explore the complexes within complexities; within complications yet without complexions...Oh, I'm eating yogurt. Nothing fazes me, the stays & hanging delays. So, I'm eating yogurt. Nothing by phase fazes me, the stops, quick jerks & delays. For holy ****'s sacred sake I need to yell at decaffeinated coffee personnel during today's abbreviatedly-prolonged coffee break.

i feel like a *****, all this "D.I.Y." music "therapy is
coming back at me with a bite...
i must have listened to
eyes of the nightmare jungle - shadow dance...
i stopped counting...
i truly exhausted the song, i exhausted myself
on the song...
i guess it was the accompanying video that gave
it the extra credit...
with that video of Wednesday Addams dancing
to the song like that guy
from the video: happy boy... the Bolshoi...
no... the black keys... lonely boy...
yeah, reminds me of that dance...
i have honestly overdosed on a song...
it's never good to overdose on a song...
you try to return to the song come the third day...
it doesn't listen like a Buddhist mantra...
something worse...
the black angel's - assassins' creed opening
credit song... not even close...
i had to figure out a way to bypass the algorithm,
somehow...
what's on the menu?
hello, rubric:

- dansderpartementet - niagara
   (heavy focus on the bass guitar, oh, you need
the heavy focus on the bass...
to somehow marry rhythm guitar with the drums...
i don't need "extra" drums...
i don't really need rhythm guitar heading toward
solo territory),
stand out tracks so far... eurolight,
(apologies for the diacritical marks being missing)
hander av spindelvav...
   syster hamnd... my guess is as as good yours...
i'm guessing German...

- paralysed age - tragedia nosferata (2006)
i'm yet to listen to it...

- iamtheshadow - everything in this nothingness
   (2016)

- immortal - salutat (1987), gothic rock from
the Netherlands...

just today listening to some classical music
on the radio...
eh... sure... Alexandre Borodin's Prince Igor...
classical music is filled with "accents"...
the rest of it? technicality... "making waffles"...
it's waffling... it's digression...
it's sort of complicatedly, sort... erm...
boring? i still love it...
but... it can truly exhaust the attention span
of a man who... likes nothing better
than cycling on a roundabout in heavy
traffic... the closer i am to a truck that might mown me
down silly... the more thrilling life becomes...
and if it rains... it rains to a ******* laughter!
give me sleet, to boot!

i will not write anything spectacular tonight,
i'm only writing to keep up my own stamina...
i don't feel it, whatever "it" there is to feel...
i've been put of when listen to this one video:
fake numbers...
this one video had this many shares,
this many likes... the views where up there
in the category of: Wembley stadium...
i look at it via...
look how many of us are out there...
some subscribe to readership,
some, to voyeurism...
liking something make you... less anonymous...
i like high view counts & low response queues...

i value my privacy... i don't need gold stars
i don't need a public involvement to the point
where i might have to engage in conversation
with them...
say paparazzi about twenty times...
before you cough up Hugo Boss designed
the **** uniforms... my god...
the most pedantic army know to man...
what?! i can't admire their attire?
i'd love a black Wehrmacht uniform...
this steward business: shepherding people,
organising people to enjoy a spectacle is one thing...
i love it... but... i'm already ambitious enough
to be looking out for... more responsibility...
that's the thing with work... you always: want:
more!

Fulham was cancelled today,
hope for Oxford on the 29th & be placed
on the turnstiles, interacting with little boys...
a ******* caged gorilla...
last time i thought about fame
i was reminded by my pursuit of longevity...
i want to cheat a little bit of time...
ha ha! perhaps even wrestle Horace...
i won't even mention the H'americans...
fame... in its immediacy...
a waste of time... those that achieve it don't /
haven't really worked for it...
it's a self-given... load of *******...
sure... i want to be famous...
when i'm dead... in the meantime i want
to live my life... plan your life like that...
think about life after you're expired...

oh i'm pretty sure i'll be leaving something
behind...
but it's not like... Shakespeare is all that...
sure... Macbeth... the crowning example...
but... beside that? do i really need to pretend to be
an English teacher brown-nosing my time
over that sack of ****?!

come to think of it... i imagine myself being
the sort of person that... would find it, rather:
impossible to be rich... i think that being rich would bore me...
i'd have to escape into perversity,
i'd have to escape toward eclectic tastes...
Against Nature, the character of:
Jean des Esseintes...
point being i can do... all the things he does...
in essence... because i cut corners...
i can... do almost everything he does:
without the access of money...
and... i'm all the more happier for it!
beside money as being used for essentials...
i see no purpose for it...

like?! you'd sooner find me dead than
ordering something from UBER eats...
lazy, *******... *****! go to the shop!
yourself!
i don't want money, i don't want yachts...
sure... i might require a ******* once
every half a decade when one of my cats
stiches my eyes firmly poised at her raised
**** of an *** while grooming her...
but only then... when someone ancient is woken...
me... i want the perpetual night,
the perpetual winter... the perpetual struggle!
that, is, what, i... want!

In my lone, apocryphal infancy I happened upon Mithra (including trivialities Mithraical) & lordly Jesus (plus trivialities Jesus Christical). I dreampt that together, in scope (& in character), we could complicate the complexities of complexes; we could complicatedly explore the complexes within complexities; within complications yet without complexions...Oh, I'm eating yogurt. Nothing fazes me, the stays & hanging delays. So, I'm eating yogurt. Nothing by phase fazes me, the stops, quick jerks & delays. For holy ****'s sacred sake I need to yell at decaffeinated coffee personnel during to-day's abbreviatedly-prolonged coffee break.
   I recall your nether hair as wavy, welcoming more sea men than the U.S. navy. ~  "Hi," I said to the man with the gun whose wife weighed one-fifth of a metric ton. She's rotten to the core grown from seed, just like my chihuahua after he's peed. I wiped you up below the wet spot for the fire chief as you're all he's got. Play it simple. Play it easy. Pay me by schedule fee Y or fee Z. I can't stop you, from wearing just 1 shoe. You're more dumb than you are stu-pid, as you'll wear a diaper for a week after you've pooped it. ~ "Take care," I cautioned the **** unaware as I ran a curling iron through his *******'s hair. With this neck brace I draw a fractured line good, as my pole is harder than a ship's bow line of pine wood that points 10 times straighter than ever mine could. ~ When you brush your teeth with Pepsodent, your ***-burns feel like no ***-burning accident. ~ Dear God, my ungodly losses have defeated my wins, because skinny-*** Jesus burned on the cross for our stinking sins. In the ring a boxer can lose his stuffin's, like run-aways lose to ****** pimps their tight clam, cherry-red muffins. I rest my love for flowing synovial fluid's fluidity on the shores of olympical trial lakes & amateur activity among destitute bums, hobos, tramps & humbugs as my partners in crime have forever been raunchy Tupac's queerly-tattooed thugs. My plea is no apology you unhooked, snaggle-toothed *****, because my *** is stairwell-inclined to market a luridly-commercial twitch. It's the jollity, mirth, hilarity, frivolity, merriment, good cheer & glee that turns my skin tone more jaundice than a Frisco China man's ***.