Who am I?
I think to myself all the time.

I want to be someone.
But how do I figure that out?

I have this dream.
But is that who I really am?

How do I know?
I feel lonely and
Scared.

Life is a clock.
Keeps moving
Never stopping.

One day.
I will be left behind.

While the world moves on.
Slowly, but
Surely.

Steady.
But I am not ready
For the universe

To see me
For who I am.
Who I want to be.

I am frightented
To challenge myself.

Monotonic movements.
Day by day.

Feeling low.
Drunk on daydreams.

When will I feel whole?
When will I be...

ME?

enormous elephant in the room
his fat *** blocking the shrooms
i can't see the ******* moon
ahh this is that
finger that tap taps at the scaled skins
on the shapely layered fins
of the crated barreled tins
of my dainty figured limbs

that cross bows into the muscle
that beats a hollow hustle
a rhythmic monotonic tussle

that in which keeps this alive
this thing i call the enigmatic tide
this wussy like mind
this funk-du-funky found
that that idiotic lice that lied

in which I figure is the only thing left to ****
the mind that is not the vicarious blinds
that cover the truth in various skills
to which I cannot shallnot reveal in lines

Steamy ink boiled over
the kettle of opportunistic metaphors
poison'd doses in gray's gangrene slur,
don't attempt to sleep in my mouth
like a w*e in head, the sword in bed
taboo artistes in monotonic ambivalent jaws
clamping down without remorse
chomp'd away at an asunder analogy
****'d in my jeans and expect'd to get fed
spit it out on the polar opposite cafe floor
unicorns dwellings of butter'd blessings
broken bread & barely berry wine of Monet's encores
bite the ear that fed you preaching van Gogh
perhaps they'll listen for insanity to be set free
confining rules taught us naught to stutter
pay your monopoly dues in bleakest sermons
pass the bucket of superiority's conquests
bled of analgesic ego's epic divided faction's fiction
don't forget to wipe your shadow on the way out

At the 50 +
An old lot
coming from the monotonic ringing melody of Graham Bell's

gone the days of childhood , adolescence and to breath sighs !ah the kisses for her lips and eyes to watch as she walked on pedestrian , how often she moves her curvy hips ,

What's ahead !anytime anywhere , even this very  moment clocks could be locked always tightening the noose around , Death that only clips ,we're acting childish in our shells ,

In a trance kept lone , social gaining kilos of fats and accumulating distances  !  Ah though miles we're apart but isolated and in love , dancing  rhythmic on keys and board of Dell's ,

what's to hide how much we seek the harmony we lost in quest unreached as ever asking where the soul dwells ,

All exit reveals in each of thyself opened are the many hells

we are no more child but to act childish whenever in love , only  it tells ,

Crossing the far away sky of soul,
In the pilgrimage of light,
on the fine coast of extinction,
we will meet.
There, in whose space,
creation first became existence,
we will turn this monotonic world,
into  a celestial melody of sounds,
In the emptiness spinning
without aims or needs.

And all the graphs, lines and figures.
All these words,verbs and expressions.

Seem to be...
A mechanic drone, a dry monotonic lecture,
By an uninterested , indifferent teacher.
So i closed my eyes shutting out the world.
Drowning their voices, views & wise words.

And like the knight in shining armor,
The savior, the survivor.
I heard it from within.

Rhythmic, continuous, consistent.
Strong, focused, Resilient.
Beat After Beat.
Never giving up, Nor giving in.

Its been this way from the very beginning.
& seemed to find no reason to give in.

I had the answers to my questions.
I knew it was right, So I closed my eyes...
And **Let My Heart Decide.

Every time the work shift ends,
I'm looking forward to hear your voice.
You have that cute tone that no one else has,
I can still hear you clearly with all the noise.

Do you get mad with that tone?
I want to hear it and have a go.
Though the words maybe hurtful.
I bet, maybe, I wouldn't know.

Work is a little tiresome sometimes,
but conversations with you takes it away.
I've got plenty of stories to tell,
but I keep on forgetting when I hear you say,

Simple words that seem like a melody,
Is it okay to fall-in-love like this?
I know we've only met just a few times,
but I already have a lot of us to reminisce.

I'm always waiting for that moment,
when I can tell you perfectly how I feel.
I just can't find the right words to say it,
and what if you find it insincere?

I have already pictured several wonderful scenarios,
in my imagination you are already my wife.
Aren't you tired of just completing my day?
why won't you try then, just completing my life?

11/2/14

1) i am stuck reading all of this **** about getting better and waking up to a new change but I can’t ******* change when I have etched tally marks into my skin. I can’t change when my eyes are red and puffy from crying all day and night of yesterday and I can’t change when the one thing I want the ******* most is 154 miles away and claiming to not give up on me. Hey baby, I bet she tasted just like me, huh? Because if you even loved me for one ******* minute you wouldn’t have shoved your tongue down her throat and called her “baby” in the same monotonic voice you say to me.

2) i know you loved every second you spent with her, telling your boys about her, posting **** about her, making her feel special, telling the world about her, instead of me, right? I know you. I know you like the back of my ******* hand. You burned me to the ******* ground but I still look at you like you did nothing wrong.

3) i told you not to give up on me, and you said “I know not to”. Like what the **** is that supposed to mean? You know not to give up? Why? Because I’ll break down? Because I won’t be able to trust anyone anymore? That I will get bad again? Because I will never get over you? Because you know the thought of you at night will eat me alive and **** me? Because you know how much I ******* love you, so you feel as though you have the right to leave me? Because she kisses you harder and you like that? Instead of heartfelt fingertips tracing concentric circles on your spinal cord? You know not to give up, so you will continue to let my heart bleed out bursts of “I love you’s” and snippets of poems here and there? Because you want to see me destroy myself, so you don’t take the blame?

4) i can only feel the throbbing pain of the cuts on my left wrist. I can’t feel you anymore. I forgot the taste of your mouth and the touch of your skin but I know I remember it in the back of my mind I just have it find it.

5) i once told you “please don’t be in love with someone else” and you blatantly told me you weren’t in love with anyone but me. This was a week ago. Literally ten ******* minutes ago I asked you if you were still in love with me, like you were before all this **** went down, and you said yes. If you were even the slightest bit in love with me, you wouldn’t have cheated on me. I still want to hear your side of the story.

6) i am in love with you.*


//
{m.j.}

The boy now tugged the arms of his father and he said "pa

Girls
In class, a space bound
by four walls adorned
with exit door, entertaining
windows, gloomy blackboard,
numerous monotonic charts pasted
lively children lay on benches wasted.

In this stream of gloom and curiosity
little boys and girls fight, Rather
in decent words compete
I sit in that forbidden corner
and look through the eyes
of the girls whom I too
must confess I have fought before

The world through their eyes
has a very bright ambitious glare
the ambition to prove
everyone around them wrong
that they too are equally strong
and silently I smile as it reminds
me ..........
Father suddenly breaks the narration of  the child
" Of  the special one
My love, your ma"
and similar thoughts resonating through both their twinkling eyes and silent smiles caressing their lips they walk past the mimosa arches into the grassy carpet towards their favorite spot the gigantic peepul tree by the boulder.

The child comes out of the mystic trance excitement still raging on and the father still lingers on staring deep into the sky and murmured to himself
"The day I saw you
was nothing special it
seemed then
Clad in a deep orange salwar
with fluttering over expressive eyes
with elegant steps you glided around
Our eyes met for an instant
and cocky rather timid
me looked away
that brief encounter
was all it was it seemed
but there lay another
coincidence written
in the books of destiny."
Unable to get his fathers attention the boy pulls his father's arms vigorously and in desperation
"PAA where are you ? anybody in there? knock knock "
Pulled out from the memory lanes he looks into the child and a hearty laugh blasts out of his lungs and without any reason the innocence of the child too drags him and both blast into uncontrollable bouts of laughter in harmony.

...to weekday wake-up calls
...to monotonic wardrobe
...to the smell of coffee
...to blank spaces
...to conversing chairs and empty benches
...to long walks
...to midnights
...to back porch poetry and sonnets
...to sunday morning bike rides
...to gloomy days
...to days without plans
...to days with random plans
...to stillness and invisibility
...to taking chances
...to gestures big and small
...to love languages and unintentional kindness
...to the right song at the right time
...to words spoken and unspoken
...and to all i forgot to thank
...thank you.

For everhow long this is going on,
this March Madness,
this Ides of March B'ware Beta test
based on the Shemitic glyph for house,

But, I read, some where, the A is a bull, maybe with a broken neck,
like, once upon a time
A looked like
a bull and not like house in the hills
home-base kinda feeling
in word, like Aces!
one hand claps another's,

we made it.

But beta,
home formed from
the spoken Shemetic phoneme for dwelling place
Beth, Bethel of divine upload download demo fame, as house of El,

The symbol ranked by sequence second
where the trickster bro in the great test story
wrestled with El,
and witnessed messengers of the same
going up and down with word from some going to and fro

What if that is where the idea of beta testing began?

What if?
Did you ever wish you had a real Brita water filter?
Beta tested your pattern ecog.
gotcha.

 It is spelled βήτα in modern monotonic orthography and pronounced [ˈvita].
Testing
testing testing pro
fessing fessing fessing. Which makes more sense?