thats wrong
i just hate the class
its becuase she’s in it
and i can never focus
on the equations and logarithms
becuase
of the way she bites her lip
when trying to solve a problem
how she unconciously fiddles with her carcoal hair
    as she listens to her music
but most of all
becuase she smiles at the face behind me
     who happens to be her boyfriend

if i position myself correctly
its almost like she’s smiling at me.

I wish I could capture the moment
We exchange glances and smiles
     Creating sparks,
                     and fireworks,
                                   and fireflies.
Admiring you for what seems to be an eternity
Captivated by your face and beauty.
How the sunlight adds a perfect glow to your skin
     Defining each curve,
                     and each lines,
                                   of your face and body.
Unconciously staring at you in just pure adoration
Unable to fathom your perfection.
How the dead silence brings yourself out perfectly
     Hands in your pockets,
                     your lips sealed tightly,
                                   dimples showing slightly.
Mesmerized at your sweet, kindly, innocent acts
Is there anything that you lack?
How your flaws makes you as perfect as can be
     Postured restlessly,                    
                     beauty mark on your back,
                                   messy hair swaying swiftly.
You're soft-spoken within such a great humbleness
Doesn't change you nonetheless!
How unawareness effortlessly makes you perfect
     "Angelic-like music,"
                     "striking like static,"
                                   "scars are beauty from tragic,"
You see the good in everyone me being one, yet-
You don't realize how beautiful you are
And that's what makes you perfect even from afar.

*-djs

When I was a kid, and all of my friends were kids, and all of us kids lived down the same street that I still live on as a not kid that none of my kid friends still live on as not kids, there was a day in the summer, or the spring....
my not kid brain has a hard time conjuring up my kid thoughts, I just remember walking outside and it was so hot
And we fetched our bikes from the shed and walked them to the blacktop only to find the greatest gift nature could bring us: a thousand tiny caterpillars crawling on the road. We couldn't ride our bikes in the street or we would squish them so we dropped them where we stood and did the only thing we knew we should: ran inside and asked mama for the ziplock bags and collected as many as we could. We thought we were saving them from any cars that might need to go down our dead end road. We didn't know what to do with them so we kept them in the bag and left them in my kid friends parents living room, sealed tight so nothing could get to them.
The next morning we went to check on them and the bag was empty.

Looking back now, I realize we probably deprived them of oxygen, starved them of nutrients and space, and probably separated them from their families.

I feel bad about that, but that's not the point. The reason I am recalling this memory and putting it into words is because I've had an epiphany.
They were robbed a chrysalis, they never flew away as beautiful butterflies.
They slept overnight in a bag with many others, waiting to puddle and flutter before they chewed their way through plastic or they died.

What we did as kids to those caterpillars, it's how I love..
Sometimes I find caterpillars in the pits of people's stomachs and my intrigue is spiked like a child's with wonder, but I always pluck the caterpillars before they get too far..

Maybe I'm a secret sleepwalker and I unconciously let them go.
I sure hope so.

I go through phases of cleaning
And I mean cleaning everything
Your room, my room
The entire city
I could clean and clean
But still feel *****

I'm becoming OCD
Obsessive Compulsively Dicking around
What's gonna happen to me,
When he finally gets out?

It's not like I look in the mirror
and see something I don't want to see
But I can't help but feel just a little *****
Ever since he touched me
When I didn't wanna be
Touched

A three month sentence
For a life long pain
If it wasn't for my strength,
He wouldn't even know my name
He'll never know hers
               or hers
                    or hers
But I made sure he knows mine
I wonder if in just three months
He's had enough time
To remember my name
For the rest of his life
To remember my name
As I unconciously recite his
I wonder if he missed his kid
If he called his mom
Or if she called him

Twelve people sat in the jury that day
And I wonder how many of them
Truly believed that three months
Was enough time
To bring justice
To anyone
I wonder if even one of them
Would change their mind
If they heard what I had to say tonight
If they could hear me
I'd make sure they knew
I spent two years
Believing in a justice system that never came through
That I'll spend the rest of my life
Wondering, trying to be tough
Wishing I could finally get clean enough
And he got *three months

My mind is filled with screaming thoughts, all swirling in a torrent of relentless negative ideas, that wish to fill me with the panic i've come to know on a more than intamate level.
I've started to realise they're muffuled.. as though i'm unconciously smothering these intruders, tresspassing of course being an extremely high offense in this world i don't quite remember creating.
Just sitting here listening through the fog as they try to rant at me all of the quaint little pessimisms they can think of, their voices growing quiet as i slowly steal their oxygen. What a murderer i've become, pressing upon the windpipes of my anxiety , so emotionless and uncaring, as if such a violent act were nothing out of the ordinary in here.
i know what you all must be thinking, because of course some of the voices are having the same ideas.. "She's snapped!" well perhaps i have, i'm not entirely sure about anything at the moment, but if i'm essicently killing a type of pain, then doesn't that make me benevolent rather than malevolent? fixing by destroying the main alements.
Shouldn't that mean i'm healing rather than breaking?

.

All the feeling,
Wrapped and deep,
My eyes so heavy,
I can't sleep.
Wash my skin with powdered bleach,
Can't get clean,
As your ***** thoughts sink inside of me.

I've become a pathetic waste,
Of absorbent space,
I feel myself dissolving slowly.
I am what I hate,
Isn't that great?
Unconciously bashing my throbbing head for some sense of release.

Change is inevitable,
Proven by this picture,
Unreachable,
Disappearing into mist.
Forced to forget who I used to be,
Stripping any sense of a former sanity.

Yet,
You're still beautiful,
In an acutely macabre way.
In all that you do,
All that you say.
I want to touch your lepers' skin,
Watch you melt away in shame.
Laugh at the pleasure I feel,
As you slowly engulf in my pain.

All the feeling
Wrapped and deep,
My eyes so heavy,
Finally asleep,
Struck with vicarious feeling of your body suffocating under me.

A friend said, "It's hard to start a relationship."
Yes, in any form, beginning is always the hardest.

Starting this poem ain't easy as well
Though I have an idea on my mind.
Introductions are harder to write than the body and the conclusion
It's so hard to start especially on a writer's block.

In writing, you can choose how to end a story
It's a choice.

But I just realize
Ending a story with a bad ending is hard as well
Unconciously, you put yourself in a trauma.

Moving on is inevitable,
It's a must
Moving on is easy,
It only takes a little time,
A little time.

But when someone knocks on your door
Why are you anxious to open it?
Are you worried what may happen?

Yes, in any form, beginning is always the hardest.

I'm here again, a place where I have rest my trails, prints of tears, echos of sighs.

A common place. Serene with memories of the past, images of her, me and I.

Ever so blind, shallow cuts deepened by the trickling, drops of sorrow. Alone, distant in darkness.

Embracing all of me, crawling into me, my lost spirit. Takes all of me from the spine towards centre of my neck, into my mind.

Linking the damaged path to my heart. Reviving the concious. For I have lived unconciously for so long.

To here I shall return. My common place, ever so common. Yet changed by who I am now. I return back here, now.

The present day.

Anamika
My dream
Whatever in night or in day
She's with me
May be conciously
May be unconciously
But,she's my shadow
Wherever I go
She follows me
May be it's my fantasy
But,I can't deny
Except her I'm nothing
Whatever I'm
Is only for her love
Love you lot
Miss you too
Take Care
Be Happy
Keep Smiling-Written on 31.10.2012

As I lay on the bed

Half asleep,

Eyes closed;

The sunlight sipping through the translucent curtains,

feeling warm and calm;

unconciously I reach out for your hand

To know that you were there by my side;

To see if you treasure these quiet moments of a summer's day as I do;

But all I found was nothing,

The hand I long to hold wasn't there,

Hasn't been for a long time,

Causing the pain I feel in my chest.

The breaking of the heart.


(e.i)

How can it be?
I didn’t know that i was already falling.

Gravity pulled me back to the ground like it never touched me before.

Oblivion is you. I fell unconciously, filled with innocence of how im going to feel after the fall.

The sunshine and storm

are the package he came with.

I felt in love

hoplessly and unconciously with him.

Because of him

I unwillingly tasted

the true heart break

and the sorrow of falling in love, being in love and falling out of love.

My first love, him.

Now i'm scared of falling in love...

You remind me of the sky
Endless and vast
Blue that turns black
Filled with clouds and stars and the moon
A galaxy in a form of you.
Drops of rain in summer  
blocks of ice in winter
The air in your atmosphere
I greedily breathe in
Unconciously falling deep.


You remind me of the sky
And i, a river
Blue to black and black to blue
A catastrophic beauty in a form of you
A galaxy of my own
An impossible nexus between the sky and the river
One i will never reach.

if you say that
you don't want
to do this anymore,
the job, the work,
the office,
the spreadsheets. . .

then what else
would you
be better doing?
what else is there to do?
all thoughts are leading
to ending up into a ***
in the streets begging
for change.

it's a trap you see.
everything is supposed
to be free until everyone
started owning things.
they caged us with
most of us not knowing.
it costed us our
true freedom.
they contained us
like gasoline
for their desolate machines
that has no flesh or heart
that no single human being
could ever stop on his own.

where the homeless are
right now is just pure
evidence how cruel
we let things happen.

you wanted to praise Jesus,
and the next thing you know
is that you didn't helped
at all
and you only
helped yourself with lies
to cover up the absence
of reason.
why such terrible things
happen?
leave it all to God.
what is a god?
leave it all to nothing.

honest, i sometimes
think i believe in
the terrorists.
they are like mental
scars left untreated,
bound to do things
their own way.
never again
to sit still in front
all of these established
conformity that was
created for our minds
to submit to,
to unconciously
accept
as the standards
or as the only way,
the right way.
but it's absurd to do so,
either way.

i have these thoughts
out of motion,
inanimated,dead,
therefore i failed
but the tiniest spark
will do
against all odds,
against the
thousands of
your faithful followers
and your statuses
about yourself,
your beautiful self.

Electricity has gone just few minutes ago.
I am sitting in the room along with darkness.
Some crickets are singing around me.
Sudenly, I looked at my window
The tree and its leaves remain silent
As if they were not in mood.
A pale, moody surroundings grasp  the all
No joys, no shights,and no emotion are working
In that exact time, some lights are twinkling in my eyes.
It garbs my attention.
I saw a host of fireflies.
They are lighting around me.
Crickets, and insects start their music with different tone
Frogs drums in the dark.
Whispering of people is making a choras.
Whole darkness, now, is an ipmaired music store
That unconciously declares the glory of drakness.
Nobody hears, nobody cares in this ark,
I am only the listener along with this dark.