what.
]] will it ]] ever
take;
scrape /you /from /my /bones
squeeze } you { from my soul
if. only. to.
forget.
hazel
& those hands
for
your ~ laugh ~ to be
less than a  | memory |
& (mercifully)
left -out -of -my
dreams
time cr _ aw _ ls a _ lon __ g
while 《whiskey《 brings 《you
back
those sad songs [i favor]
^have me^
#sittingonthefloor
while words & rhymes
simply shred;
₩hat€ver
is
@left

Ten years in a fenced cage under the Nile
restrained from the dense of the fish
raided in eventful motions and constraints*
disused from the beautiful living existence
miles of glories and hails of mysteries
the waters swallowed and the hollows
borrowed cries and ails of gloomy sails
green flashes, trances minced and hissed
transpiring the intuitive caskets of energy
the fanning rotor roared harder and wider
further down beyond the extension of being
colluding, protruding deeper and within
cutting lateral slices of time and space
matting the unknown on disused walls
where illegible and delible oaths lays
hidden on rocks and cracks by crooks
As we sat invisible, affixed... telling tales
*Ten years now unfenced, flying over the Nile

Often, in the day, the tickle begins its havoc
One where the answers my head rested on
Beget those questions anew,
Begetting more questions, their answers, too
I, with upright, beating breast, am fit to take on such a feat
To sing out fame and knowledge in the streets,
They shall know what I mean,
The truth is all and everything I mean.
Wracked by what seems a natural progression
From confident concreity to existential congestion
And subdued by chiasmatic coughing fits,
Beginning with the first, ending on the last
Confounded by the night where last may come first,
I got to bed discomforted, a few shots in me,
Knowing not what to blame: me or everything,
Who is it that makes no sense?

Staring at the dreamy ‘scape
I can see the algorithmic lynch pin
Taper off and down
Fantasies, angels spread their wings
And marvelous oceans rend
There at the bottom, or there in the sky,
Or in their middle-way
Is the delible surface with wanting cajolery
Written across it, “thou may.”

You lay on the table, gloomy, but when the quill dipped the ink
My thoughts were incoherent but it at least got me to think

The emotions I did bungle and often did I caper
Seldom got it right when you put words to paper

The dusty papyrus bundled up in a big wide sheaf
The abstract curiously takes some shape as you turn over a new leaf

You may have filled in you though delible ink a dime
Colour may fade later but your essence is etched on time

Speaking of an adage, curiously it is more often than not
The faintest of the ink is always stronger than a memorized thought

The poet, the author contemplating and immersed pensively alone
You are bonded to them like a sculptor and his chisel to his mighty stone

Contented when you stop and say that I’ve wrote it all
Mysteriously there appears a writing on the wall

Your nib, sharp and resolute scribbles furiously on the obverse and the rear
But at times fate intervenes sadly and reminds you to simply sign here

Ambitions held aloft and when destiny gives you the wink
And there in irony it may seem so that you’ve not dried the ink

Providence flows through your veins right up to your point
For it is you to finally decide who gets to anoint

But this world is ephemeral and sadly the end is near
This you must behold for all those whom you may smear.

On the judgment day, the divine scribe holding you, wishes us well
As finally it is one’s deeds that lands one in the heaven or in the hell.

What's really the truest thing that doth speak
With winds and seas that seek shores in an inexplicable motion
With diseases spreading across the avian world like a bird
Like a bird on a mountain peak picking out the snow through breeze

I find your heart on the heights of mountains
Knowing it shan't come down, as treasure and treachery
Never make themselves known to the otiose folk with grandiose mind
Soon, things become simpler and the complex lines between implicit and the explicit

Will become clear, as everything isn't about love nor lying in the corner
It shan't become blurred because truth and despair go hand in hand
Delible poetry will soon erase as sketches etched in sand
On stretches of eternity, when we find thy promised land

Where mountains, oceans have no difference
Just as life and joy are synonymous
Sometimes, when I am depressed
I will talk to myself, inferring that there is more than what meets the eye

In vast lands of eternity, we seek the lack of disease
When we are teens, incredulity shines
As we grow older, the peak of adolescence never ends
In my twenties, I want to be as young as I can

But, I know that for such luxury and purity
I need a love like mine, and duality of man troubles us
In doubt and in certainty, just as ash is to ash
And the broken hearts are cast aside

Life may be harsh, my friends in disease and despair
Life may be full of tears, but tarry for thy blessing falls
In ****** manipulation and hope's lifeless walk follows
What follows after mountains come down to the shore

Only to meet land, just as people
They doubt you, scare you
Into submission
But, do not be afraid, they are just as doubtful of fate

When a person with hat, coat and green-shirt clad
Dusts the leaf off his fedora and hurls his scarf
Around his neck with flick of his wrist
It is in his head, that he wishes to be understood

You correspond to the night.
Effacing, like the mirage-gray wings of an angel
Obscure the stage of my prayers in tongue, a perjury of
Mine lesser than yours;
Which is a forgiveness born of amnesia
Swaddled in thin linen sheets
Offering no warmth. I’d forswear the ritual

Of mascara to delineate 100 filaments to exalt your image.
Mirrored in my eye, the copy lies in a shallow impression.
As an afterthought leave your delible shadow.
I’ll borrow its black for these tears that stain,
100 claws that catch my skin in your wake. Faith ends with me

-On my knees to conjure you, like a hound at a fence exceeding it.
Hermetic as lips of an overfed mouth, and
Slippery as dreams which evaporate when
Distilled by light. Is it weightless?
The sun injures me with attention. Day breaks like glass,
Coming over me at great altitude;
You correspond to the morning.