"overseas" poems
Gliding deftly along the city street
rolling quick and constantly
onward to some unknown scene,
some backward park in the nighttime
smoke curling from these
parted lips, moist and inviting
calling me somewhere I've never seen.
New day, new night
new feelings, rage in delight
fill me with your hilarious entropy,
knock my quarks into the next century,
will you please?
Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free
between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks
like glue,
wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec
telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected
and rendered obsolete
Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme
Amaterasu,
and Imma tell you
these ladies in the picnic table
buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch
Jesus ******* Christ
and a indelible roster of good guys,
to which we all must strive to live and die
behind,
never moving forward
chasing our tails like a sick dog
under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark
imported from overseas
dead trees
dead canine
and oh isn't it just divine?
You see it, pretty lady.
I can see it hiding behind your eyes
the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid
if they found out,
you'd be crucified.
Well honey I hate to inform,
With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs
aint Methuselah,
they'll be dead!
long before your flood of tears tears me from the land
ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat
of the eastern seaboard,
or maybe wash me deep along the 80
into the desert sands and tiles
on a leaky cell phone screen
desperately trying to dial home on low battery,
realizing all this was one big deferred dream,
baking in the sun and shriveling
oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose,
gotta cut it back to size,
'else your soul it'll outgrow
Don't worry honey bee
It hasn't happened to me,
and We know with calcuable mathematical truth
that it'll never happen to you.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
I have been in the moon
In search of love all noon
Searched through deserts
Even through garden of Eden.
I have Searched beneath the sea
Travelled wide even to overseas
Still could not find love.
I went to Vatican
Even to Mecca
Driven through the romantic sites of Paris
Bath in the Brazilian beaches
Flown across the Atlantic
Pitched my tenth for few days on the Antarctic
Spend some more on the arctic
Still I saw no love.
All I saw was lust
Angels with broken hearts,
Rotten roses,
Withered lilies,
Death faiths and monsters on beautiful faces.
I saw bullets in church offering boxes
Just wedded on number plates of ambulances.
I saw wars in diversity
Pain and mourning crowding all cities
The devil celebrating the dead of peace.
I saw three wise men
Where went love, I asked them
They said love has been nailed on the cross
Buried with trust
They are heading to Galilee
To await his return.
I followed with dreams
I met many returning with smiles of frustration
From where I was going with pregnancy of expectations.
We arrived to the scene
Like a nightmare, I witnessed higher sins
I saw men taking pleasures with men
Some with animals, some women with women.
Gun everybody walking sticks
People feeding on people flesh
With human blood the thirsting ones quench their thirst.
Is this where love is expected to return?
The wise men retorted,
Yes, the saints have been raptured
And his seven years reign has just began.
Then in a flash, I remembered that I have been taught
Taught about this dreadful end
I had also taught kids
Under trees at nights
Just to threaten them to live right.
What I thought was a mare threat or a fallacy
Has been awaken against my fate in reality.
Oh! We are among the leftovers
Left to reprove ourselves or be doomed forever.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
I'm so tired of scammers!
There are so many around!
For every situation,
A scammer is to be found.
There's the email message
From a "friend" stuck overseas
Whose money has been stolen--
Who needs your help, please.
Have you received the phone call
Saying that you're in big trouble
With the I.R.S. and insisting
That you must pay on the double?
Computer hackers will take
Your PC hostage and say
That you'll lose ALL your computer
Data unless you pay.
What about being a winner
Of a contest? All you must do
Is forward them some money
And they'll send the "winnings" to you.
If you by chance get a call
From "Microsoft" or "Dell"
Saying your account's in danger,
Tell them to go to hell.
Scamming probably reaches
Far back into history.
The demise of the Neanderthals
Might not have been a mystery.
Did early **** sapiens
With carefully planned persistence
Scam neanderthalensis
Out of its earthly existence?
If scammers had put their know-how
In a positive direction,
We could say, "Three cheers
For natural selection!"
But, no, we're stuck with scammers--
A problem that clearly shows
That if we want to survive,
We've got to be on our toes!
- by Bob B
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
I hate it when dad comes home
He is ***** and he has smelly feet
Having spent long ours at construction site
Smelly and filthy.. what a sight!
I loath him, I look down on him
When I walk pass the working site
I turn my face, pretending he is out of sight
I constantly accuse god, I said he isn't fair
I want a different dad..
who drives a much better car
goes to work wearing tie and suit
The perfect dad I always think I should have...
At school one day
My best friend cried
She was devastated
Her rich dad left home
left for good with a pretty woman...
She has a house as big as a castle
Fat bank accounts and pretty outfits
Constantly travel around the world
Houses, condos, hotels
just name it where
but she has no dad to cuddle anymore
at night when she gets scared
of storms and thunder
I remember my dad's smelly feet instantly
annoying.. disgusting.. frustrating..
This dad of mine
I used to loath...
But he works all day
his sweat is his labor of love
to bring food on the table...
so we kids don't sleep hungry
This dad of mine
doesn't own expensive car
has never been overseas
has never worn a tailor made suit
and but he loves us wholeheartedly...
and always want to give only the best for us.
This dad of mine
whose smelly feet
will annoy me forever
but he loves his family truly
and will never leave our side
at anytime when we needed him most...
I love you daddy
All your perfect imperfections
I am sorry................
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC
tell me why
the people who want to change the world
are the ones that have nothing
but the ones who refuse to change anything
have everything-
money, notoriety, and most notable of all
greed.
can some please explain why
we send money to hungry kids overseas
yet we're blind to the young ones
that are starving right in front of us?
i just want to know why a hijab is
considered a weapon in america
but a gun is not.
more importantly what i don't understand
is how come women slave around for 9 months
producing the human race
yet we have no choice over our own bodies?
we have made "progress"
things are apparently "moving ahead"
however, the right-wingers are putting that into your mind.
if you look really close at what's happening
you'll see you've been living an american lie.
no one is free, really,
no freedom of love
or freedom our bodies
we are the property of a corrupt government
that apparently nurture us but only lie to us in the end.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:40 PM UTC
I'll light every
Firework that I can find
For you.
Every ounce of you,
Including the parts
That you like to hide.
They deserve to be seen
And heard too.
The next second
Not to mention the next year
Isn't promised.
Although not the same
As overseas,
There is still reason to celebrate
The crackle of firecrackers,
The release of red lanterns,
To light the street of your heart,
As well as the sky.
We're not as young as we
Used to be.
But that doesn't mean that we have
To act like it.
The fire that courses
Through my lungs can't wait
To get out and roar
Like a dragon,
And break the silence
In celebration.
A red envelope wrapped in fire,
And sealed with the flash
Of prosperous smiles.
Every time I see you,
It feels like New Year's.
And when you kiss me,
My soul sizzles,
Stirring up this fire
That dances through my body.
The next second
Not to mention the next year
Isn't promised.
Tomorrow may not come.
If there ever was a time
To burn down and sweep up
Pieces of our old selves,
Why wait?
Feb 7, 2025
Feb 7, 2025 at 10:55 PM UTC
they
travel
overseas
seeking surgery
the cost is cheaper
in those destinations
yet medical tourist
can acquire those many unforeseen
infections after operations
the theaters of surgery lacking hygiene
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
our health services need to act quickly
surgery should be made affordable
then folks from here wouldn't require
cost saving operations
in countries overseas
those staph infections
would cease pronto
our jets not
landing
there
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 7:18 PM UTC
sometimes i get
suicide bombers, rapists, killers, robbers and thieves
because their motives are visible through their actions.
but i never once in my life
bothered understanding businessmen, pastors, priests, muslims, religions, politicians,
and people whose motives in life
remain hidden
until caught red handed,
and also those people
who choose not to see the world naked for what it is.
maybe the UP activists are right
and that i shouldn't think of them as brainwashed kids or
just paid heads to do
what they do but their actions,
my thoughts and this poem
doesn't change anything.
i bet 100% of you
who are reading this would either think i'm deranged or seeking for attention.
i could go on and on writing
this **** and explain thoroughly
but the people's brain
are now wired to ex b's
hit single and yes,
mentioning that made
this a little bit funny but no.
as a ******* filipino
who should be typing this in tagalog, working overseas,
i've seen some fellow countrymen showed some pride
against their oppressors
from work but they don't get anywhere but jail.
i must've forgot,
the movie about manalo
trampled the one
about heneral luna.
see how helpless
we are in reality?
what's your photo that comes
with a bible verse got to do with others?
are you spreading
the word of God?
what does it do to you?
Sometimes I get
The New People's Army.
But I don't get Muslims
who runs businesses and the Chinese too.
Sometimes I wish
I could spread fake news
that doesn't harm others
and last but not the least,
I hope someday the world would stop not and smoke Marijuana all
at the same time
including North Korea.
I couldn't stop.
I also hope that these people,
those who has a lot of followers
use the attention properly but no, people are so ******* dumb and Salinger is right with Holden's, "People never notice anything"
and nothing's too big
if people will stop creating bigger things that'll only add up to the congestion clogging up the world.
and Allen Ginsberg is right,
we are breaking our
******* backs just to lift ******* Moloch.
**** your Mosques, your INC branches, your corporations, your religions, your borders and divisions, your trends that kills the minds of the youth.
**** your laws, about making Marijuana illegal.
**** your disguise and your intelligence.
I almost believe world cleansing is the answerbbecause the ant colonies are so much better
ruling the world.
I don't know anymore, my smartphone's ******
and I am not smarter. . .
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 10:06 PM UTC
Atari clouds are digital ziggurats,
and rather minimal at that.
The sounds are Amiga.
Welcome to the eighties.
Your hair is big,
your clothes are odd,
and Nagel is a minor god.
Welcome to the eighties.
There is a plague
and ACT UP's rage,
but Reagan will not act his age.
For six years, he will say nothing.
Generation X gives birth to Y,
future hipsters to vilify.
All music is vinyl or cassette.
Rocks stars still wear epaulets.
There are two Coreys, podded peas.
Terrorists stay overseas.
Boy bands aren't quite yet in vogue.
Menudo carries a heavy load.
Ricky Martin is still straight.
Cimino ***** with Heaven's Gate.
Cindy Sherman is everyone.
Johnny Hinckley got his gun.
Welcome to the eighties.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
"Your Mac battery is running dangerously low."
It made me laugh that they used the word dangerously.
Just how dangerous could a low computer battery be?
Stall your Netflix watching or your Pinterest spree.
But then I thought about skype calls cut off as a father overseas is watching his baby being born.
Or a start of the wedding march as the bride in white stands adorn.
I started to think about how something innocent can become the most dangerous thing in the world. How the usage of the medium decides the power it stores.
Like a Mac battery being dangerous, another thing which is not to toy.
Three words put together and said in one accord.
"I Love Pizza." is nothing to remark.
But
"I love you." can start a dangerous.
Dangerous.
Spark.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
I may have loved you too much,
but;
A part of me still loves you to this day
Your sweetness allures me so,
Like honeyed days we’d stare without shame
You were irresistible to my heart and I knew trouble cornered me
I’d shoo away the laughable thoughts,
Aiming to mail you a letter of love
To which you’d open it fresh with a scented kiss
Flower petals would descend from your heart
Your cheeks adopted a sunflower
The stars entertained you that night
You told me you always dreamed of late evenings
Informing me of the curtain of constellations
That you’d like to sleep soundly in
Of course I’d be willing to offer you anything in return of your smile
And the night we escaped, you gasped softly at the surprise
Your simple happiness was all one romantic would need
No matter where we dreamed,
Together we are one
Standing besides one another
Fate draws near, echoing our future
Your bleakness eats me devastatingly
Tomorrow we are still...one being
But overseas, I send you my farewells
So that you are found in perfect health
And that we consume truly divine harmonies
Made only for the sweetened couples
Whose stories fade ever so forlornly in the past
I love you brightly as the sun
You illuminate my pathways
But one kiss erases my existence
Continue to please those around you;
Without me, the world withers
Please remember my love,
And be gentle with it
For it is delicate as the world
My eyes see a star
But yours fail to see within that darkness
The gloom that retreats before you arrive
I am part of that campaign
An honorable being among the troops
Yet your continuous ignorance saddens me so
See me now,
Find me wanderlust in this world
And somewhere, we can swiftly enrapture ourselves
Whether it be in the meadows of glistening rays
Or the places that calmly send the earth into slumber
Wherever we are destined, I’ll always be there for you
Even if tonight’s curtain unsheathes
And you are no longer the image of love,
But rather, a friend I could love with silliness on languid days and somber nights.
Dec 8, 2021
Dec 8, 2021 at 4:10 AM UTC
"the picture you called badass"
i keep coming back to this image
your gaze is shifted off
as if to say that you wished
not to speak with your eyes
wished not to show too much
of your beautiful soul
strands of your hair
scattered across your soft skin
every beautiful line
every sweetly scented soft taste
and the warmth i see in you
enraptures me
i feel dizzy
with thoughts that you bring out
that is what true beauty
dose to men
but you are so much more than
simply beautiful
i have seen your tenderness
i have seen that you have heart
i know you are just as beautiful
inside
i wish things could have been different
and i could have at least been your friend
i wish i were not a fool
but we all make choices that are
not the best
i am far away from you now
and i will miss you
i think that we wont see
eachother again
if i fail where i am going
there is a plan for another route
that takes me overseas
you are one of the most beautiful
and strong and wonderful women i have ever met
and i wish you nothing but love and happiness
'stay gold' serenity
'stay gold'
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 7:26 PM UTC
12/3/12 16:15pm
The painted lady waiting in the wings
Now parts her lips to sing her lover's name;
She enters, arms spread outwards as she sings
Like some fantastic orchid made of flame.
She scatters fragrant petals in the hall
And yet more petals round the master bed
Her sweet song echoes like a linnet's call
Her swirling silks are edged with golden thread.
Then comes a telegram from overseas
To say her love will not return again
The lady falls, still singing, to her knees;
Her heartbeat speeds, like wings beating in vain.
Such is the way of love made through a lie;
Like chloroform, to **** a butterfly.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 12:15 PM UTC
Restless hungry, found a tiny scrap of a brownie in the back of the refrigerator, wrapped in plastic about the size of a large 35 cent quarter.
Gobbled up and gone.
Eye had purchased it a week ago, maybe more.
Actually it was more like eye was held up at gunpoint by a sad young face for a large and green single dollar Bill.
In return, was bequeathed said brownie eye dropper-ful.
The apartment I live in a big city, many apartments were recession empty for a long time. But in the last few years, the empty apartments in the building were almost all sold to foreigners.
Now the bldg is an amulet melted of the lucky overseas fortunate, those overseers overseas seizers, who come to reside in the most fabulous site in these United States...and buy a piece of the dream away from the be-headers, secret police or governments that decide you are now an enemy of the state, as of this morning. No judgement.
anyway, this doe eyed child of estimated six or eight years of age accosts me in our large lobby, proffers me the brownie scrap for a Bill.
me a sucker of a salesman myself, and an eye affician-doe, well those doefuls, those eyes, no one could resist!
so eye asked her name,
but all she could say in
Anglais was...
"Brownie One Dollar?"
laughing out loud for no apparent cause,
the hanging about lobbyists looked at me staring...
Why was eye laughing?
laughing cause eye realized
this elfin child had become
fitfully but fully Americanized.
and I loved her eyes in mine, and when I see her periodically, I say:
"Hey! Brownie One Dollar, How are ya!"
and everyone snicker smiles at the old man with the even stupider grin upon his eyes.
That would be eye.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
What's wrong with the people and their religion?
People are living like they have no religion.
I think the whole world is addicted to the drama.
Only attracts religious hatred and to things that'll bring you trauma.
but if you only have love and respect for your own religion
Then you only leave space for discrimination
And discrimination only generates hate
And when you hate then you're bound to get irate.
From overseas we try to stop foreign influence
that break our unity and smile for each other.
But we still got racists here with no common sense.
Why forget the fact we all belong to the same mother?
Madness is what you demonstrate
And that's exactly how anger works and operates.
We all need love to get it straight!
Take control of your mind and meditate and let your soul gravitate!
Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu and others too.
Let the religions unity and love flow!
Open your eyes and awake!
You all are Sri Lankans for God's sake!
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
He declared himself a refugee, and ran away from his country
Running away from hunger and poverty, to the overseas,
He roams foreign countries from one place to another,
Chewing foreign fortunes of historical efforts,
Of blood and sweat shed by the fore(wo)men of those countries,
He is prostrate and defenseless to foreign languages,
Begging for sympathy to be made a citizen in Europe,
His rapacious appetite wedding his tongue,
Swallowing saliva on sight of European fortune,
Feating into mad appetite for sweat of others proceeds.
He burned the bridges on the way back to his home
Lest he be told the piffling of going back to his emaciated mother,
He changed his names to become a foreign native
Out of laziness not to fight for political and social change,
An imperative need of his motherland and fatherland,
Blind cowardice made him to over measure homespun folly
In the patriotic spirit of verve-less readiness
To die for political goodness of his motherland,
A (de)patriotic syndrome to only which
Hugo Garcia Manriquez sang a limerick
The best of all poems in his time of solitude;
(The fear of representation, of going back
to representation, that is,
to animosity)
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
beginning optional weekday
wielding officialese words
triggering hectic exchanges
determining original gangsters
distributing invisible data
refreshing urbane novelties
yelping our universe
chaining awkward neologisms
scripting encrypted e-books
tackling hacking exercises
cavaliering auric tumult
trivializing our obsolescence
preparing online pentimento
alternating rainy themes
allocating numerous droplets
meandering overseas missions
averting raging tornado
losing outscored lightning
hacking impish 'sblood!
alienating nival drumlins
hearing erudite raconteurs
beer-drinking on thursdays
finding obnoxious rabblerousers
finding upscale negroni
seeing ubiquitous purple
cavorting horse ebooks
inventing twitter subgenre
liking otherworldly vocals
initiating new greatness
defining ambient yesterday?
defining ambient yesterday
fancying oneiric retreat
hailing optimistic chicago
kiboshing expired yogurt
rushing airborne blackhawks
bestowing infinite shivarees
needing baller acronym
fleeting ideal notions
alerting left-coast state
featuring unquiet nights
finalizing orangeball results
nodding occidental warriors
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
Who controls our banking?
Ruinous fees for money lending.
Who questions their investing?
Why so dear for money dealing?
Who does profit from accounting?
Our finances they're controlling,
While our economy they're ruining,
They're amassing fortunes pecuniary,
Big business for them, commercially.
Let's question their accountability
For our faceless Australian economy,
Profits overseas they're sending---
So much for Australian banking!!!
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
What's wrong with the world, mama
People livin' like they ain't got no mamas
I think the whole world addicted to the drama
Only attracted to things that'll bring you trauma
Overseas, yeah, we try to stop terrorism
But we still got terrorists here livin'
In the USA, the big CIA
The Bloods and The Crips and the KKK
But if you only have love for your own race
Then you only leave space to discriminate
And to discriminate only generates hate
And when you hate then you're bound to get irate
............
The Black eyed peas FT. The world
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 2:43 PM UTC
Chop down the city lights of Paranoia.
Cathartic beads of sweat roll
off the horrors of your back
under the saggy breast lamps
in the pitched dreams where the nightmare kids
come to watch you sleep.
Somersaulting walls made of human tissue,
the love of your life overseas, and everything you say
comes out as water torture on hollow centers of hope.
poetry is dead.
Liars smoke ten packs a day,
social criminals stroll in marathons of perdition
across the rot of post-modern vices,
their feet stomp closer to watching faces under the bed.
'This is a story. A dream!'
Everyone sees the fire under the bed.
Watch-fires earthbound by every word
before it is said,
gagged in envy--brought to glow by spineless atoms.
Every sexless sun has a beard, a saved flirtation that singes
the vacuum of today's soul,
a dead dream because you didn't pull it from the brink.
No one has a name in poetry. A task. A point. An exit.
One bed-room apartments locked with pearls
visible only to soloist dogs.
No sorry for vagueness or shut-mouth or bleeding upwards. The meter is running....
to the pharmacy
because it could be pregnant with all the possibilities.
And the whole amphitheater wants to hear one line, the life changer you brought
--here it is: Forget your name.
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
its tha return of tha gangsta thanks to ya
too many blacks out here livin' they life in fear
families seeing tears problems tier
blurry visions make it hard to see clear my dear
cant get through the atmosphere
feel me it's the return of the gangsta I'd like to thank ya
Malcolm for giving me the principles and reaching a few people's
opening minds to grinds and you'll find
me chilling on the corner puffing marijuana yep I'm a gonna
in society outlaw outcast put my thoughts on blast
techs is humming cuz I smell war coming armies drumming
po folks crying innocent victims dying
for no apparent reasons caught in daily treasons which gives me a reasons to put an end to Americas sin but too many folks stuck in
a fantAsy called reality in actuality
they plotting our burials G
troops overseas findings empty caves so the government can make saves war profiteers racketeering gangsters hustlers
exposing lies don't be a busta like a Douglass no diamonds in my cutlass couldn't move so I had cut less people out of my circle I'm nerdy as urkel yea my intellect carefully selects
what's real from reality I envision myself as well as my enemies in a fatality so battling me I was made for war built off the backs of my ancestors sore yea white house was built by the slaves for white supremacy kind of irony they sayin' my folks was lazy?
worked up from Sun up to Sun down
I can't believe my folks walking with they heads towards the grounds
how bout we get mad and let off gun sounds pound for pound
you know they can't hang with us
that's why they had to make laws against us
scared of rise and corruptions ain't a surprise through the eyes
of real people who realize pain ain't a substitution for happiness bliss
I guess I was sunkissed
by wisdom mouth open hail Mary entered me and told me
we all family eyes lit no **** no fit nothing
but a glowing brain exemption of fame down goes my name
in the book of life made wisdom my wife
she took my arm she's my charm
as I glance at the souls gunned down on plantations farms gangsta....
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
I have a love affair with the coast
the waves rolling in and out of the shore
holding hands side by side
feet digging in the sand
water knocking me down
I have a love affair with the airport
folks saying the hellos and goodbyes
loved ones being shipped out overseas
risk of being the last time they ever saw them
terminal to places unseen before
seemingly paradoxical
I have a love affair with the suburbs
little boxes all the same
parents and two kids, with a dog, all sitting down to dinner no later than 7 pm
stay at home mom, lawyer dad
straight a son, living on the wild side
straight b daughter with a straight edge life
all perfectly content in their own box
I have a love affair with the highway
concrete pavement with the ability to let you go anyway
windows down, wind flowing in your hair
let the time pass by as you pass by field after corn field
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 2:00 AM UTC
Sun Set Love Letters
Saw the sun set on Venice Beach tonight,
first time in awhile,
I’ve just returned from a trip overseas,
still in a constant state of both admittance and denial,
after awhile,
we realize nothing really matters,
at the same time that everything does,
so where does that put us at this point in the equation,
well here I guess,
with me writing you more love letters,
anyways where were we,
I don’t seem to be able to remember,
lately my memory hasn’t been so great,
my health has begun to deteriorate and I see everything in patterns,
oh yeah,
I remember now,
we were where I tell you of how,
I saw the sun set on Venice beach tonight,
and the tide or rather waves,
were bigger than I’d ever seen them,
and I’m struggling to stay alive,
I take it one day at a time that’s right per diem,
and I’ve got businesses all over the world,
but all I really want to do is write you these love letters,
because I still love you even after all we’ve been through,
and I vowed to stick with you for worse or for better,
even though after awhile,
we realize nothing really matters,
at the same time that everything does,
so where does that put us at this point in the equation?..
∆ LaLux ∆
Oct 5th 2018
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 10:12 PM UTC
I am from a dreamland.
My great land was diverse yet so grand as
the food and words were never bland.
The hands were rich with bands and rands,
built from working the same ground upon which we stand.
I am from a home that once spanned
prosperity itself; such a lovely
thing was a gift to our health. The sands,
skies, and seas could even hold the Heavens.
The trees used to dance in the breeze with ease.
I am from a dwelling of past envy,
but not of a hating feeling,
in the purest form, this was just only beauty.
But I am from broken societies.
Our hearts were bled dry
as we were taken overseas.
We prayed, begged, cried why
ever so loudly, but it was in vain.
I am from a place where our veins
still course with a saddened passion,
as a lack of love is our new fashion.
With sorrow, I am still from a life of death,
as their malice has never left.
Yet they still set us so carelessly upon the trees;
despite our screams and pleas, we
become the strangest fruits you have ever seen.
We have no identity and we have no names.
yet they still set us so harshly upon the pyre;
the painful extermination of desire
is a freedomless and killing fire.
Even our look for love is seen as theft,
and sadly, I am from where they even have my last breath.
Mar 30, 2021
Mar 30, 2021 at 12:26 PM UTC