She's an innocent little girl
Unknown about the people in this world
Who think it's a curse that she is born.
It's nothing to do with her but with her gender.
She has to suffer because she's her.

She grows up while listening to those painful words
By the voices of herds.
Those words which struck her like a bullet inside her heart
Now it's broken so much, it can't be mended even if we try hard.

This is not what she wants
But she's dumbfound like a mime,
Stuck inside, bounded by walls
Walking inside the empty halls.

She screams but no one hears
She wails but no one cares.
There's no one here who feels her pain anymore
As people ignore.
It's a curse that she is born even if she did nothing bad at all.

She has nothing else to do
But to dream about another universe,
Where people are one,
Where there's no boy or girl
That's what she thinks is a world.

But that's not true,
It's sad to say:
She is a curse in every way.

Why would they hurt such beauty and charm
When they do so,
She is so calm.

She has wings
Which are broken now
And it stings
If she tries to fly.
But still try,
You are not alone.

I thought your smile
was a fence;
and so,
I tried to climb it.


Now my legs ache,
and my hands drip red
from the cuts of the attempt.

What hurts the most
is realizing that I --
standing behind a velvet rope --
have been left dumbfound, staring
at art
I simply will never understand.

The superstitious,
all and about
But who, that gullible?
Come forth ye,
and lend me your ears!
I tell of a superstitious being!

Born and raised she was,
with the superstitious act,
was it external?
Or internal?

She told once her superstitions,
one out of numerous times,
what doubt I was in!

The superstition dumbfound itself,
hearken her superstitions!
The pride she carries within them!

No hope brought nor thought! Not from the dope or the pope! Or the imaginary rope, tightly around my throat. As I boast, as I note and quote! These bright, white halls and walls surround me in dumbfound! Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy... A squire in dire! A squire in fire and need! Shadow’s greed, conspiring too feed in desire, on my admire, inspire, perspire and wires. Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and

lazy... Hey, they say I’m insane in the brain! Despite the real pain of the sprains and strain! Despite these wires I feel in my veins. In spite of the constant, existent, insistent and persistent rain. Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy... Forgotten directions, recollections and revelations.
Insecure affections and seducing reflections. Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy

and lazy... Once more adhering, enduring, fearing the nearing, the infection, the rejection and injections! The ongoing detention and retention! Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy... At times I dread in my head! Those crimes and prime rhymes that sing of dreams, gleams, themes and things are not as they seem! Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy…

Heathcliff my love,
Had I known you at times before
Before the glory days of your tormentor
Perhaps your future would not be so bleak.

Heathcliff my love,
If you had not been so hated
Your misery and doom lain fated
Your life might have reached its peak.

Heathcliff my love
Were you not bruised and beaten?
Were you not shamed without reason?
Until you had no cause to be weak.

Heathcliff my love
Once you have broken free
With your rage contained barely
Will you find the revenge you seek?

Heathcliff my love
When terror is six feet below ground
And all that remains is offspring dumbfound
Will equivalent wind render his oblique?

Heathcliff my love
The one you detested you have become
And young son’s potential left unsung
Do you finally see the havoc you wreak?

King of the jungle, tall and proud.
My luxurious mane, soft and sound.
Warrior preparing for battle.
Hear my roar, mighty and loud.

Mediocrity, chains of mindless cattle.
Better to die than follow the crowd.
I stand ready; they dumbfound.
Blink of an eye, their world crumbles.

Flight of the lone to the Alone
Watch me as I stand my ground.

After murderous fall of moon, after starving cat's croon,
my body remains.

After getaway car turns to rust, after skyscraper scatters as dust,
my body remains.

After milk carton goes missing, after women disposed in kissing,
my body remains.

After the cackling retreat, after the burying buzz of her words on repeat,
my body remains.

After greeting card ages yellow, after whiskey tastes mellow,
my body remains.

After white suburb tastes of ****, after inner-city tastes black death,
my body remains.

After fifth or sixth televised war, after commercial break bore,
my body remains.

After drunken desperation, after belated bedroom exasperation,
my body remains.

After propaganda pill-popping, after church pew splinter sopping,
my body remains.

After farm fields on fire, after ***** clothes hung on wire,
my body remains.

After open casket sorrow, after sympathy borrow,
my body remains.

After winter of extreme tire, after binge and pyre,
my body remains.

After tearing nostalgic shoreline, after parking fine,
my body remains.

After dumbfound pride, after proving my hide,
my body remains--

awaiting a whitewash of hot rain,
awaiting a ***** cradle free of pain,
awaiting a salty crest daydream,
awaiting a snip from the seams and--

sweet release.

it has been said for ages that a woman
could lead a man willingly to his demise
a song or a dance; a touch or a glance
simple gestures could dumbfound the wise
these have always just been strange stories
tall-tales or faerie-tales, even outright lies
until half a year ago. until the day that I-
became so very lost within her deep blue eyes
                              
it was just a simple look
that's all it took              
my heart missed a beat
then it shook

and in that moment, I finally did realize
how very powerful they can be; a woman's eyes

In the cavernous expanse gilded out of silicon robes of Greece flattened into the diminutive spaces between crags and rock, the swimmers of the natatorium embrace to plunge in transparency where they erred in covert chivalry
Knighted partially by association but yet unofficially born of sentiments rebarbative to the well-heeled, I linger like tar heels lamenting that the supernova eventually bequeaths the death of the ultimate chapel hill a shining city on a valley masquerading as a hill
From past and repast, the nurture of former presidents calumniates if also embraces the possibility of unfettered liberty and prosperous futurity, they simper in silent lugubrious reflection at lives shortened by liberty prolonged, of hearts opened but death devolved
Latitude and the caress of brazen attitudes corners the ***** in a tightened alcove of a restrictive forest of livid and limpid dastardly deeds, the arm of hunched idiots grazing with dumbfound idiocy at their own protective duty to shepherd the forest only for the singular trees as though disease itself is only a tease in a flirtation too exposed to believe
I joust with giants in a town that brooks lions and lyon estates with too many GrayZe superintending too many fain and valiant graves littering the stream besides the Pennsylvania forest in a past sunken in intrigue slipping in and out of an ethereal time invented by a harvest moon too attuned to be a lunatic any time soon
Whither is the outcome of a Shakespearean demise of prattle becoming the pasture of specious but solid skies, gleaming that a science fiction theater isn’t hailing a fuhrer or jingoistic furor any time soon hopefully I do too croon.
Militant tapestries of unhinged madmen craven in their disregard for every bent temptation, we witness the downfall of scrounged indecency and lonely hearted thieves contemned as they condemn perdition upon an unsuspecting victim
The victim is the hope of galvanized promise, a regal flutter of liberty tracing the skies elaborately for the flight plan most likely volitant and most destined to succeed
Corporate heads shake hands with desperate beds that Damocles himself wishes blood himself was yet shed or never shed but cutthroat collapse is avoidable with the recrudescence of provident relapse and rejoinder, asunder the ships may seem but now aimed so directly like a laser pointer
Titanic is a father to founding fathers only in the regress of avoidant times, sheepish of the whispered grime of inutterable blithe sublime time, limpid in partial acknowledgment of a wretched fate as avoidable as possible with the proper introduction and the right heeded date of a love better than choice wine and the wineskins of an indian province live as well just as much in a Skinnerian time.
Read the palimpsest, pittance proferred for every skeptical and undeclared bet that skewers the coffers of a criminal ring of Barnum Brothers in bed with burned asylum, a sanitarium wider and menacing like the most minatory lion
But the jaws of these aliens in time, whether specious or not thrill only those susceptible to the flattery of swank and the travesty to which we thank our deliverance and suspected exoneration
Flanking the outstripped malls that sprawl in the orbit of cities engorged like a skyscraping promise littered by Walled Ease and regaled bleats that belay down the cliffs of rigid insurrection only partially courageous to noble and partial inflections.

The courage of a wistful day slipping into the fathomless depths of dudgeon and pain the dungeons clamoring of insanity willfully reign, we clip the newspapers to the walls and scrawl our loves into the fallen scrawl.

Crimson red beneath the spangled spars, the author of debauchery immemorial that swills and wassails its own heartrending blues. And this movie squandered in limelight but buttressed by blithe regards for morally debased frights. Sting me the police and see the wasps nest infest your hollow diatribe to the extent you are hobbled in the depths, ennobled aboveground but nevertheless widely pitied.
The mathematics of love and loss, cravings for distrusted sacraments on a blue bus swiveling though the recesses of aleatory or controlled time. But then I lament that fully loved and fully lived is a fluff of sacerdotal emulation rather than the true authorship of heaven blanketing the earth.
Polished polity renegades and the rumpus of crumbled heaped ashes in a cremated time, where sand itself is eternal and sentience is somehow the door to nothing but despair, in their blinkered hubris that scales the lizards back in order to be lifted by olfactory graft.
In that light I see a bright whisked wind carrying the secrecy of portentous spared revelations and the spate of intermittent lightheardedness blows away my skepticism, but sides have been chosen and the bluster of the past emulating the culmination of an amenable future scares the birds from their chavish
Chiliads chill like excellency dissembled as the husk of an eternal monument of punctuated emphatic glory lingering above the ground with intransigent resistance to gravity and an slaver of better sincerity in the attempt to become beyond guileless tourists.
Dressed rankled blue swayed news, always operative in militant conformity to an eradicated sentience but simulatenously a wider sing song enlightenment. I struggle for words in this debased state of pitiable futures plastered all over every billboard that ever matters rather than the closure of closed doors trampled by intermittent dreams and seamless cows becoming the heifers of unified peace.
Smaller that the ants the infest the hills but more glorified than the quiet pristine ponds that outskirt the skirts that need less descent and more ascendancy.

Blitzkreig of cosmic wars swelters the torrid desiccation of a languor existing in human platitude but defiled of human gratitude. We swiftly wait for the erosion of sanity to become the author of a novella of craven deeds and bolted brimstone, serenading a rush towards sensation and an abandonment of rivers libation
Beneath which rivers flow, scrounged glowers endemic to a ruddy blush of sun-stricken grace, I clasp every remedy and every catholicon becomes more ecumenical and more rabid with stricken gaze of disordered streets in festivity but inured of nothing but lazy passions rather than sought rations
Dickens and hard hammers scribble the parched concrete with Chinese depths masqueraded as a suburban muse for canned applause and raucous crews relishing everything crude.
In the refinement the poet slings his garment over his shoulders and buys coffee for his ***** queen, and how to outfox such gallantry and how to temper so much enthusiasm. Only by the skullduggery of dead hands anointed with Greenwich bands.

It’s there,
Where water meets fire,
Where lightings strikes the ground.
That’s where my heartbeat goes.

My chest feels like it was filled
With tampered strings.
Once so sharp and precise,
Now dull and inconsistent.

Mother always asks where my love is.
I tell her it hasn’t moved in years.
Her dumbfound look
Meets my half smile.

How do I lie to a broken mirror?
Where even my reflection is fake.
How do I mute the cannon fire,
Deep within my chest?

written October 16th, 2016

"I hate their way of living

There's a bowl on the floor

There's ash covering the counter tops so I'm moving next door

I'm tired of the noise, the dumbfound statements, and the fights

I'm tired of hearing *** for 2 hours every night

I hate how selfish they've become, taking advantage of others

Getting money from their parents yet refusing to speak to their mother

So goodbye to this hell hole, I will miss very little

I hope you all enjoyed my stupid mockery of Paul's 'riddles' "

Should-haves* are dangerous words in my ears –
They’ll side with the season’s expectations
Weaving thoughts in absent dreams where my fears
Take shape, conquering pulses’ vibrations.
Might is not a word that speaks reliance
Paired with fits of unrequited musings.
Alas it’s through my stubborn defiance
That I predict the eventual choosing
By an uninformed heart of another.
Greater signs I should read for me to see
This storybook ending in love – rather
Your indifference speaks harsh truths, agreed.
But sharp pangs still dumbfound me, ripping tears
In a heart that should have loved, did not dare.

When is it the best time?
I don't know.
Every time I look at my watch,
above all,
I wonder where the time's gone.

Stare,
Dumbfound,
Confused,
lost in thought,
unable to understand that I have to go.

I am able to move now,
focusing back in
then my thought process returns
and that gaze turns into a look.

So from that frozen stance,
I'm now your slave, Time.
Now, are you beautiful
or terrible?

Time goes
but eyes never change.
Constant
like when your seconds tick away,
and the splendid things fade away,
and the smiles dissolve into nothing.

The silent night
Almost dawn
With a cool breeze
It starts,
From the east.
You'd have seen
Nothing like it,
Mist
They call it.

Dumbfound
By the sight of it,
Shimmering street lights
Distant
But clear.
A Harley
Roaring on
The highway.

An unimaginable
But real
Beauty.
Par excellence.
I can see
The darkness
Fade away,
And abruptly
Scattered
Comes the grey.

These lines on this face extends the heart I want to give freely,
Smothered, patched up, bleeding,
I yearn a maiden's curtain!

Furtively I stair out this prison cell you call a body,
Where's that chalice to dumbfound me? Compound me to her frenetic volition.

Virulent are all mine surroundings, for this blooded box skips beats as a child to playground games, panic attack hysteria!!

Visionary genre, mandatory I seek you, where's thine partisan all true, and a well we would make out of our own wishes..
Lamenting stitches...

Exuberant, I want you to cuddle me close, where we shall have a toast of temperament parallel. Our own heaven, our own malleable kinship..

This seeking soo trucelent, where the diagram is bent, I'm bended in with it..
Forget it I say!!!
Why do I keep looking? Didn't mother tell me ( one shall come to you!)
So wise you are mummy dearest....

I cannot goad one to see me for me,
For beauty is bound in the eye of the beholder.../

My bebe fight with her eyes,
Sit on my lap
With em thick ***
Thighs,
Knock me out
With her hair down,
52 ways of lookin fly!
Queen of hearts
She 'ont need a crown
Got the world on her heels
Is how she walk around.
Stay close to me ma
I 'ont wanna loose you now,
So much to say
But one look in your eyes
Makes me so dumbfound,
That's okay though,
Let our eyes talk
Let's hide within
Each other
Like them we too
Shall build some walls
To stay forever
Infi-nite ma,
In ur arms
Safe & sound.

In the shallow the shallows go
wearing snazzy goggles made in Dumbfound land
and they wrote litanies in praises of the clowns they are
for it is the age of the blind-sighted and me-too can be us-too
because those ****** Elitist has robbed everyone of us too much
we want equal distribution of wealth for us Westerners have suffered enough....
The equatorial people are too much
they are stealing our sunshine, rain and drought
they've taken all the natural tans in world to use for themselves
and have a secret supply of slimming pills cause most look so slim
look how they have all the wars, famine and pestilence they're greedy
and then they come to the West and steal from us poor underfed people

In the shallow the shallows go.......

Now I Think That I Should Mention...
That Tensions Have STRENGTHENED...
In These... CRAZY Times... !!!

Because of The PRESSURES …
of … Modern Life... !!!

Masks Now In Sight...
Daytime And Night...?!?

That NO LONGER Surprise...
Or Give People FRIGHTS... ?!?

But There’s An Off Key Vibe... !!!

That Currently Rides...
When You Go Outside....
And The Sun Now Shines...

I Have To Be Honest...
It’s One That I DON’T Like... !!!

Cos It’s NO COINCIDENCE...
That A Word Like STRESS...
Is One That Rhymes With TENSE... !!!

Because TENSION And STRESS...
Are Clearly CLOSE Friends...

And Clearly Now Rests...
In A LOT of Humans...  !!!!

Talking of Friendships...
When Tension... LIFTS...

It Seems That What Happens...
Is Worse Than Gun Clapping... !!!

It Can Make Combatants...
Because of Detachments...
That Seemed Hard To Imagine...

BEFORE Tensions Captured...
And Caused The Type of Fractures...
That Come From The Battles...
That Tension CAN’T Handle...

That Are QUICK To DISMANTLE... !!!
Mind States That Are... “ Fragile “...

And DON’T Get It Confused...
The STRONGEST Dudes And Women TOO...
Prove That Tension Moves...
And Creates... DARK MOODS... !!!

In People WHO Are Usually COOL...

Because Strength of Mind...
Is Subject To... DECLINE...

When Tension Rides.......
HIGH Like The Sky...
And Has No Time To Recognise...
Or Sympathise With The Wisest Guys...

Whose Tensions Tend...
To Use... WEAPONS... !!!

But Tensions Now...
SURROUND Race Rows...
And World Lockdowns... !!!

And Policies That People Now Flout...
Across... Various Towns... !?!

Even Though They KNOW...
That CORONA’s Around... !!!

And NO... NOT The Drink...
That Makes Bottles Clink... !!!

The One I’m On About...
Is The Virus That’s Found...

... PROTEST Grounds... !!!
That Now Confound...
As Well As Dumbfound... ?!?

That’s Bringing Out Crowds...
Who Are Shouting OUT LOUD...
Cos’ They’re Trying To DROWN...
The Sounds of Government Mouths...

Who Seem Willing Now...
To Send The Feds’ Out...
To Use Tear Gas Rounds... !!!

That Are Causing TENSIONS...
To Now KEEP Spreading...

... FAR And WIDE... !!!

Which I Guess Is Why...
I’ve Written These Rhymes...

About This Thing...
That CLEARLY NEEDS To LESSEN... !!!

The PROBLEM of....
What Seems To Have STRENGTHENED...

The DISTURBING RISE...
of These... GLOBAL...

.... “ TENSIONS “... !!!