Who is she,
They would ask
A cynical gothic *****
Who is she,
They would ask
A girl looking for attention
Who is she,
They would ask
Someone who is different and not afraid.

Walking down the hallways at school, people always stare, only because they are afraid to be more than just a walking billboard.
Given **** about speaking your opinions, and given harsh judgment for being open minded.
Who are we now? We are greater, because only in the future finally we stand up and say, "no this is not ok."
No more torment, and no more pain and suffering. Who are we now? We are more generous, because the way we dress does not effect our emotional connection to things. We are not walking billboards.

Wind, capture my soul—

pass through me,

brush shoulders with the crowd of tourists and locals

who meander through the clock tower plaza,

wishing to claim their connection

to a place they learned about in a History class

-

a few years back.

There must be more.

-

Salt, clean my nostrils of any hate—

the air fills me up, lifting me away,

And I feel weight-

less,

like I’m about to arrive

in the freshest of places, the greenest of spaces.

-

I am a tourist myself, yet my mind is cleaner

—but please, don’t take my comments as hate,

rather just distance from their kind—

and it’s this slate that the sea wipes

again and again with each foamy breath

like the gallops a freed horse makes

in the fields of this same island

-

a few years back.

There is something more.

-

A grass blade, a bead of sand, a drop of the ocean’s

water in your hands, seeping between the cracks

of this world’s distaste.

I have begun to wonder how lovely freedom must taste,

particularly on the tongues of those opposed,

denied of the wooden planks that could carry them home,

of the ocean’s kissing that lets them float and imagine

that there is something more.

-

Whisper me to that sea.

Salty breaths enlighten me.

What makes me stay
Isn't your jade eyes
Nor your heart shaped lips
Nor your addicting smile
Nor your contagious laugh
Nor how you stare at me
Nor how you suddenly fall asleep
Nor how I'd spend all day just talking to you
Nor how you inspire me
Nor how you're just perfect
Nor how you're suddenly not so perfect
Nor how I love you
It's rather because of this connection
     Our friendship
     How you kiss me
     How you hug me
     How you give me all I want

You're everything I need
And that is what makes me stay

This isn't teen hormones.
This isn't just depression.
I don't know what to think anymore
Is anyone there
How can you tell the line from reality when you wake up
I'm so confused constantly
I am literally just stumbling through everything in the dark
Everything is dark
There is no help where I am
And the longer I don't get the help I need
The more lost I'm going to become
Even when I'm with these people
People I should be able to trust
I'm so alone
I can't feel part of a group
It's probably because I'm not.
Every waking moment is blurry and dull.
It's like I put sunglasses on my emotions.
I'm trudging through mud.
I'm drowning.
How much more of this can one person take?
Every waking moment is
No one likes you
No one cares about you
Everything I thought was stable isn't there
It never was
My mind was a home
A stable two story house
He said I had irrational thoughts
That I hear things that people don't actually say
That I don't have a clear connection to reality
Now what
Do I question everything I thought was real
Do you know how confusing that is?
Do you know how much pain I feel?
Constant suffering and lack of sympathy
I can't feel anything
But when I do
It's so strong that I can't stand it
I get so suicidal
I just want this to be over with
I'm tired of feeling like this
No, I don't want to change.
Why should I have to change to be normal?
Why do I have to take pills to be normal?
What if it changes me
I'm so scared to be happy
Do you know how comfortable depression is?
Depression is my childhood friend
Depression is the only thing I can trust and depend on
Without depression I'm
Nothing.

she's tries to hard
to get your attention
but you don't even mention
her when people ask what you've
been doing she just wishes you had
a connection and you gave her affection.

He came over for the day.
I thought it'd be nice to
see him again
considering that he
likes me...
a lot.

I took him to Church with me
and then to my aunts party.
We sat and talked most of
the time and honestly,
it was nice.

I found out really deep things about
him and he found out some
things about me.

I guess you can say we have a
"connection" because
I'm the only person he's ever
told that much of
his life to.

I think I like him,
especially since he
held my hand in the
car that night while
I brought him home.
He knew I needed
someone and he
was there.

Thanks sweetheart.
Baby, you're the
*best.

nothing is quite as rotten
as her heart while it's at sea
losing connection and self
only salt and water to grab
as she plunders down the side

the floor shakes
     the shakes tingle
            the tingle rocks
                     the rock jitters

think hard and feel very funky!

and in the end, time will probably pass

Connection with you
    jolts of electricity
Racing to my core.

It is inside.
The physical aspect is a mirage,
Its not real,it changes.
It doesn't say the truth,
It doesn't reveal the actual person.
It is a cover for the main thing.
It is not meant to be discriminated against or judged,
Its there to protect what's inside.
Judging someone by their cover isn't fair enough.
Beneath that cover is a story you never thought would exist.
When it comes to love,
That cover must be taken off to reveal the actual gift.
The real being love is acting on.
To love with eyes beyond the cover is supernatural.
It is a possibility.
They say men are visual creatures,
So they fall for what they see,
But that doesn't mean love starts from there.
Love begins when the cover is withdrawn and the actual being is seen.
Love happens when we see through that cover and connect with what's inside.
Connection with what's inside breeds freedom,companionship and real love.
Beauty of the inside is what makes love love.
Its what falls in love and is fallen in love with.
Love is such a beautiful thing,so sacred it can only last when the souls love each other. As for the bodies,they may like each other but not for long.. If the souls connect with love,then the bodies get along.

Every time I see you
electricity rushes through my veins
when your hand brushes against mine
by accident.
Whenever we touch
we can both feel the connection
it’s visible
in a crowded room
because you’re the only one I see.
In a cheek to cheek hug
the heat of your skin burns against mine
you touch my arm
and set my mind on fire.
I want to turn it off
but I can’t.
I think we both do.
Undeniable chemistry.
Words unsaid.
You’re my temptation
my pull
my magnetic force

aged trees are older, than me
some, saplings are younger
I have this connection
with trees, more, trees,
have a claim, connection
I know is the truest friendship
one of the oldest, on Planet Earth

Heart strings knitted together
Like a lost and found sweater
Thrown away, never
To be seen
Again

When
Did we meet
Like a rhythmic beat
That will never
See defeat
A sheet
Of music,
A lyrical masterpiece

I was the fuel and your were the fire
I should have known that love can expire
It's not the way I'm wired
To stay bolted to the same spire
Unable to walk in the mire
That is
This connection

The selection
Of mismatched heartstrings
Sings funeral songs
How have they made it this long
Wasn't it a game all along?

Nature’s lessons
Drift among the distant hills of Texas call the blue bells from sleep
Remember youthful play to far away amidst the mist with gray to weep
Clear the eyes by today’s joys see the river endlessly meander enter the flow
Never a heart as livened by the blustering wind release your heart let it go
Deepest longing when nature is observed clouded sky blades of grass sigh
Walk with bare feet delight sensual connection with spine among tender shoots
Hills ever roll lower lands expand to the morning sun in these common rays are its roots
The butterfly’s wings brings a carefree silkiness in tiniest span painted in miniature still spell bounding
Was the soul before in a fix trouble wide seemingly to high follow with the eye the bird’s joyful sounding?
The trees stand in a blessed grove canopied sheltering arms holds you with tendrils most tender
In this shady soft light you can find rest and comfort all is ease here you can have your heart free just surrender
In this we conclude by scenes of rapture we have loved and together we have tasted earthen glory
By minds in concert we have purged evils vale arrested mystical truths and with great thrill we share the story
Not everyone will go on this quest to define and know each other in innocence it makes for a rare find
The key that opens the door is discovery the door is patience the way ever opens by love and trust ever will the two bind

Maybe this could be the month
When the loathed seed will arise
All the lovely flowers will blossom
The scent of red roses up in the air

The hearts of maidens full of hope
Hope in the mysterious connection
One heart intertwined with another
Two souls conjoined in unity

If such exists, this could be the month
Oh what joy it would mean
Oh what peace it could bring
Oh what contentment it will give

Birds chirping in the spring morning
Two lovers laying in truthful bliss
No words spoken, only the hearts converse
Maybe this could be the month of love

All tongues with no language, singing into the mist
ears leant, in the midst of a storm, no-one listens.
A thousand footprints, or more, just like my own
but not. Honing different paths. Eyes closed
the chaos drowns out all connection.
To this physical place.
Lost in the bubbles and chandeliers
melodic motion
meeting each recycled drop of the ocean.
the flames kiss the stars
as I raise my eyes and open.
A strain to focus on anyone’s face
any one place, misplaced identities.
Like a swarm of locusts we devour the night
lay waste to the ground. I stand in the centre
with an empty one foot diameter surrounding me.

People want to read good poetry
Scratch that
People want to relate to poetry
Doesn't matter if it rhymes
Or has many lines
Doesn't have to make sense
Or be the poison to God and puzzle to infinity of time of the begging and the end
There just has to be a resonance
A connection between their life and the words on any page
Good poetry
Bad poetry
There's no difference
It's just poetry

I miss your voice even though ive never heard it, I miss your touch even if I can't feel it. I want your lips, cuz you wanted to be my first kiss.  You broke the shell that softened the blows.  Love made a hole that will grow.  Maybe i am just to nervous, with no blood flow. And now i can't stay away, but you're not here, there's just smoke.  I feel that our connection is being cut, and being to fade.  

Was this all a trap, or a joke.  You say that you love me, maybe i don't know.  I just feel that you're leaving my heart after you opened my soul.  Now i feel like a monster, who could love such a beast.  Howling in pain, and you're not here to wipe the tears away.  Looks like the doors open for more, **** in everything and lose all the love, and receive only dismay.  But my mind leads a stray, and thoughts pile up.  

I really do think you love me, for who could love a beast, with this face, his heart and claws.  I just wish that i could hold you tonight, maybe everything would be alright.  Please don't leave me, even though this might not work at all.  For I really do love you, i don't want to curl up in ball,  and go back to that shell.

I have this love for writing on this thing.
no mess on it
just flow
as the director intended so
another production of Desire Enterprises
lacking the basic exercises
but what’s a better time than now
because as I’m sure I’ve said before
“Practice takes patience
and patience takes practice”
no hesitation brother you’ve just got to attack it
so once again let me introduce myself to this
sweet sweet addiction.
Usually barricaded  
by the walls of my mind
see lately I’ve been learning to evade them
been taught to look beyond them four walls
for what I believe may contain my train of thought
so I’ll reach new horizons
I’ve learned the many ramifications of living within my comfort zone
and know nothing of the boundaries outside it
like standing up on stage and presenting my craft
no strength in my foundation like I’m about to collapse
freaking out remembering Rigley’s reminder to get a grip
even when you feel like you’re about to slip, take a breath
Speak each word carefully, Make ‘em feel each one you spit
Lord willing I’ll do just that, shoveling up little nuggets of gold
I’ve got people thinking, well **** the little brother’s got soul
I’m like nah, I’ve just been breaking the mold
back in the day they used to clown me for acting “real different”
black kid in a primarily white school, it could’ve been real different
but couldn’t help feeling out of place
now a days, I take it all at a steady place
growing up is a process man,
felt like I was lagging behind, but there is so much more left to see
I mean look at all the places, people, twists and turns we encounter
life is such a blessing, how the hell could I not enjoy it?
**** that, better believe I’m gonna embrace all that I is.
Be You, Be You, Be You
man that’s all you’ve gotta do.
Another amazing star amongst the many, shining bright in our universe.
Shine with me, we can only get better.
Don’t you ever falter, make your presence felt.
Make the best of the cards that you’re dealt.
because before you know it, you’ve reached the end of a verse.
Page, Chapter, Story or whatever you prefer…
The end may **** sometimes
but it opens up opportunities for new beginnings
That was sudden but it made you think didn’t it?
I live for this connection.
because if I kept you reading, I intrigued you.
it seems you can be reached, it seems I just like to breach into the temples of the mind
like old lectures from old teachers about how we wasting precious time
or how the future round the corner and its time to shape up
stop pushing snooze on the button homeboy its time to wake up
yeah, it be nostalgic on those hazy days
once and a while its okay to have them lazy days
but never stunt the progression of your growth
reminder of the sacrifices made to keep you safe
continue to share these these “little nuggets” that you make
and let the world relate.

Angels

Your first angel was your mother.
She gave you the Ability to breathe.
She nurtured you for 9 whole months,
and pushed for however long.

     At that point different variables come into play,
your second angel is often a little hard to say.
It could be your father, if the cards play out right...
But sometimes, just sometimes, it simply is not.
Could've been your grandma, or a neighbor across the street...
Just had to be someone who never would leave.
Until they leave.
And then those angels sing the loudest song, the one your radio plays at dawn...
Your third angel comes, when you need them the most
and stay with you through distance, where you need them for hope.
   Angel number four is someone you've known before,
a connection so sacred, when together, it's known.
The fifth is a kiss, sweeter than any you've had,
an exchange of energy, that drives your hormones mad.
Like diving head first into a bubble bath...
The choices you make seem stupid and fast...
But totally worth it even if it didn't last...
      The fifth angel is a blessing, and one everyone should have.
The sixth is an elder, they will stand out like transparent opal in the glistening sun on a new day as the sun blesses the changing tides for the very first time. As if asking you to rise, and begin the new days fight. 

Angels. They aren't really in disguise.

He is teardrops that fall from my face, salty in my mouth, delicate in my hands. He is all the shadows the sun brings with it. He is all the stars you can't see, millions of light years away from me, dead stardust. And here I am, dead stardust, too. So if we're just weightless dust from the same endless space then why did we lose so much connection? Why am I still endlessly floating away from you when all I want to do is become a piece of you. How is it that we are just millions of atoms crashed together and yet you can't join our atoms up, as if there's no such thing as chemistry between us. There's no science between us at all.

You are loved. You are loved because I see you as the sun, the moon, the solar system, the entire ******* universe when all you really are is just WEIGHTLESS DUST. Tell me, universe of my life, do you understand how intense this kind of love is? You have the power of a thousand black holes, pulling everything in to you. I am just the weightless dust you spit out.

tizzop is the lover of
a single mother  

years ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

when you think of tizzop:

think of your last
déjà vu and what you
felt
think of early immigration:
the german belt

tizzop: a combination of
people lovin/people hatin'
pride of a nation yet
last letter standing in a
poem without ending

long time ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

tizzop hungry; he asked for
food while slowly taking his hat off
to my mom; she delighted since she
saw into the eyes of a warrior acting
quite politely

then tizzop fainted and fell on
the floor obviously he was starving
mom fried some chicken

later at the table tizzop gobbled
bonez'n'skin;
the more i looked at tizzop's
traits the way he moved his
cheeks and chewed his food
i sensed that we were  
kin

nobody talked: familiar
silence filled the room

the more i looked at tizzop's
bossy smile and his
black teeth i was
reminded of something

like the déjà vu of a  
déjà vu

strong connection between
tizzop and me: he
stayed at our place and soon became

my brother
little by little mom turned him
into her lover

wanted to **** him but
didn't
**** it this poem gotz to be
hidden

The vein bleeds into routes on the flower,
Spreading rivers of nodules and colours,
Fastidiously opening up its body
To receive the ravenous bumblebee.

It is the beginning of a friend ship, a love
Consummated wholly with carnal desire
And mutually symbiotic congress.
The bee drinks up the nectar like its last supper.

This connection doesn’t demand anything.
They give and receive, void of expectations and desire.
The animal and the flower exist in their au naturale state
Long after the romance of spring **** them by.

Shalini Nayar
© 2005

Everyone is
Connected.
Everything is
Connected

Sunrise, sunset, moonlight, and star
What are the things that we share?
Ideas, questions, some things bizarre
Is there a place where the east meets the west?
Music, poetry, strums of the guitar
Does the breath of my mouth touch your lips?
Smiles, laughter, things not kept in a jar
Are our dreams and desires a pair?
I know love counts not matter how far

Racing thoughts along the Atlantic alabaster , sea green -connection , sundown obscuring the curve of the earth
Wondering why gulls prefer the shore as Ghost ***** -
scurry for their awaiting sandy berths
Seaweed filled foam reaching the end of its destination ,
driftwood skeletons shadow white sand westerly creation
Venus sits alone in 'Sailor delight red sky' , North Star forever bright
Tonight a beacon light pans the open waters ,
A peculiar turquoise , emerald summer night collage