Keep a fifth of me in your mind
As I move on and leave
What we have been behind

I'll leave you hanging
Like the chimes on my door
As your scent becomes just
A fragment of my mind, nothing more

Meet me at eternity's pearly gates
Kiss me back as the desert wind
Meets your porcelain face

Every tear you shed
I'll fall on your cheek
Every fear you fear
My heart takes a beat

My love is only as good
As distance allows
My love, my love
I'm miles from where you are

My heart sings as far
As the speed of sounds
My heart, my heart
Come, my heart, tell me how far.

All things bright
Carved straight paths
So that in them all might
Can't be unseen,
The Creator's patented light

The woods stood with their integrity
But bends and sways along the way
When He breathes life and serenity
Built a stairway for the rock bottom and astray

The grass and their blade
Forests and her glade
A sanctuary founded in shade
(Sunshine cried an uproar hue)

Will that cyclamen grow
Prepared a table where we sow
The Great Anduin flow
(Sunshine made it glow a golden fruit)

All things bright
Knit the barks in endless patterns
Consume our restlessness
A hundred prophets took shelter in Your caverns

Lead me into still waters,
And there me be confined
In Your pastures I am but a feeler
So I may be undone and defined

As I was walking in a hall, wide and bright, I stumbled upon a mounted spyglass.

Right on the mount, it said that it could let me look at the past. I thought that something that allowed me to look through to the opposite would be much more convenient.

Nevertheless, I looked in.

There I saw 2009 when I worried about when I will get laid.

The songs I listened to were old and good, but never mine.

These memories are blurry, small, and insignificant. But one could never forget what that felt like.

On the other side was 2013, when my mind was somewhere else as I sat near the university pathway when I should be in a class.

The songs I listened to took me as one of their own, at least for the time being.

These memories looked like miniature figurines. Problematic, yet quite small.

Tilting the spyglass, I saw the end of 2016. I was near a superhighway waiting for a bus that might never come. Things were still quite problematic, but clearer. None of those miniatures blurs on the side that just focused on me.

These memories looked bigger, much more vivid. It felt closer. So I looked away.

There I stood inches away from the spyglass. I walked to the other side and it allowed me to see the future.

Everything looked small and unclear. It was as if everything you can see didn't even know where to go.

But they all felt like mine.  Like things I never had but always have known that belonged to me forever.

They are Sunday afternoon naps, cups of coffee that are either good or bad (who can tell?), and a lot of hugging.

Again I stepped back. This time because I felt afraid.

There's always uncertainty ahead.

But I was certain about uncertainty then.

The future can come in any way, shape, or form but one thing will never change.

It will always be mine.

On a Sunday evening right inside Cartwheel Theatre the crowds somehow ignored the curtains as their spectaculars turned into their favorite pair of googly eyes
They set sight and aimed towards a rather refined looking gentleman with a marble pebble tie

Ah! Adonis! Then crowds were astonished!

The audience suddenly collapsed into a bore as their actor had a lead role of having a smile like open doors towards thick fields and bushels of grains and having a long right arm of direction pointing towards the lazy boys and reclining girls

Ah! Adonis! Whatever happened to the curtains?!
"this is a repetitive act!"
"I've heard of this before!"
"why are the old acts better than this week's?"
"predictable!"

Adonis noticing all eyes aimed at his cheek bones sang; "it is not I! I pity you who lost their recognition to the real show paid all your life to take a peek at a rather fragile fellow pale as I am, I beseech you; go beyond this curtains and forever stand in awe!"

Caught between Guillan's tab and your roof toward me
Worn-out sackcloth but the dust is sick of my head
Now why won't I pound a rock on it instead
I've been here, actually

Break this *** and gather all your foes
Oh where is the breaking point of your wooden-crafted nose
A chance to defend my case was gave
But all along I was digging my own grave
Faithfully, maneuvers evading the light bleeding on the sides meanwhile!

Masks of oak and grey forcefully made to wear
Dressed with mocking silk
Clothed like a circus freak
Thickness of sugarcoat make you look like an iron bear

In mud, I'm bedraggled
Blades of shame, I shave my head
My craving for a just right or even perfect bowl of porridge went down to 'what's better than cabbage than cabbage

Why can't I just go back to the fattened calves
Potato salad unshared in halves
To sit like kids beside their father's mat
Praised by aristocrats
Save me! This is a distress signal, not a salute.

David Farrier shoes horses for a living
Found himself in a life worth giving
His whole life to see them from the gate
And finish in life still believing that this race is not just worth trying
But a pursuit of passing on the baton of Faith!
He may pound it and nail it hard but David just won't let you run with your hooves dusted
Oh how he used to shoe us eight times but be filled with the greatest gratitude as he was healed and learned that our hooves are two-divided

Oh I think I need a pat on the back
My hair doesn't feel like feeling the wind against it
Oh that doesn't even rhyme

But a few knows the songs of David as he was born in Rock Bottom
He circled the town eight times and washed his hands as he allows himself very often
Born with a so-called 'natural blindfold disease' he found himself a Savior clothed in the purest of fleece
He asked David to hang for a while and His hand shaked with eternal availability
While His friendship promised milk, cookies and eternal security

Oh I might need a pat on the back
The open gates of change welcomed by a gunshot noise usually freaks me out
Oh can someone get me a rhyme book?

I plow the soil of Earth
Has been toiling ever since
My blood drips on dirt
While my soul loses grip

I just ran out of mustard seeds
My world has a lack of them
I feel like I have nowhere to turn since
The smokes blackened freedom

I crawl for a hem in hunger
Oh Father quench my thirst
My soul in me falls asunder
Again, let me put You first

Eleven leagues of half-loves
One more I'm still plowing with
Let me kiss my parents before the day comes
Lord free myself of filth

Eleven leagues of half-loves
Eleven wasted my time
Take one down drag it around
Only You can fix what's inside

The dark is a dark time for me
Nights were sleepless too
In the dark I need a Savior
Bring back the salt to flavor

I delighted in soil-living
Completely abandoned Your call
Bring the Light to this wretched being
The Only One, the God of all

Onto Your shores will only
My ships be anchored but slowly
The waves began to betray controlling
My monsters as they rise and scream forbidding
The Healer revealing healing
Not only for the time being

Now I found I, a canty fellow
Like a lark found a common twig, an unlikely chance like finding identical popcorns

As I bask in the sight, the crowds held hands as they plea nailed eternity on the cedars of calvary

Thinking I gave you all the clues, I chose to marry the eagle that conquered the stone than a crippled hawk with theories and philosophies that bind him to a chair talking like white noise on a broken idiot box.

As he asked my hand for a sip of wine, my inclination grew like curiosity for this rather unexplainable reality

"Take My hand and sip beyond the humanly" I nodded like a crow lurking beneath me was my chaperone from decades ago.

I grab held of his cloak, even to a point where all my ribbons to devote!
But my chaperone rang "fallacy!" took me by the throat refusing to let go.

This is a story of boy meets unconditional love
He denounced the evils for truth and
grub
Even beyond his reach and the stars above
Pft! Quit the infringement! Stays away from electric mice.
A love conveniently enormous right inside his eyes.

So stuffed yet so precious to toss aside
Too filled and fruitful for presses of wine
However I go sweet or sweet
Or bitterly comfortable in my seat
Your arms would still spread wide

When I was unbelieving
He's still there unyielding
Still believing
Still deliv'ring
Faith unwav'ring

Driven nails, not even tapping
Screamed in pain, serenading
To you! Little faith! Who's doubting
Turning who's eternally frowning.

In all wickedness and wretchedness I am
I held on to your hem
Faith that knows no end
For a lofty King requiring nothing really grand

Asked formy hand a sip of wine, my cotton tail grew curiously for this rather unexplainable reality
"Take my hand and sip beyond the humanly"

Driven nails, not even tapping
Screamed in pain, serenading
To you! Little faith! Who's doubting
Turning who's eternally frowning.

We all want the truth
But we're all liars.
Trapped before forks
Of the bed rock of love
And of momentary fires.

We all want to fly,
But we're born without wings.
Whenever we're down,
We re-evaluate our needs.
Whenever we're down,
We see several versions
Of getting down on our knees.

To a dying girl, we were betrothed.
But we held different backs
Segregated former lovers
And cheap lunch packs.
Those letters you wrote
Under your breath read
Rightly deserved curses,
O finely written verses.

Let's join our little drunken hands
In inexpensive Hong Kong sidewalks
The ***-infused sweat in our cheeks
Hasten not in hazy sweetie talks

The heat in the night
Can make the ice caps melt
But in two different poles our
Intentions got up and went.
Your eyes never looked like what it seem.
Your night felt like a lie, mine transpired a dream.

Just text me
I'm just a text away
Cause I don't wanna
Be near to you
To hear what you gotta say

I'd rather hear a beep
Than your wails and screams
Electric still sensations
Than angry sweet vibrations
When what you meant
Is not what it seems

Don't call me
Don't even think about it
You gotta be a dumb fall-whiffler
A bird-brained vapid zinger
F'you even think I'll answer it

Your rage got more swag in it
When I put in some background music
Alone with wine and cheese
Just let me give no **** in peace
Where all my sighs
Are all that I need

The glow on my screen
Is a better sight
Than the rage in your eyes
Spelling terror and plight

Rather grow this ache in my head
Why don't we both shut up instead
Rid our selves of the fester,
Just text me, I'm a texter.

Father God
The world has provoked my heart into anger
My people happily marrying
Drinking their affairs asunder

Slavery never ends as masters of Earth continue to be Earthly
Working on the eyes, people-pleasing
While hiding their hearts in the dust and the dreadfully *****

I pray the dust of the Earth seek Your purging
See through the fangs of night,
Love illuminating

Let me be home, into your peace; a nourishing swarm
Rest my head against You like a babe, nestled in your arms

Rescued my hand to hold
Place my heart in Your hands
Pierce through heart and soul
Love Incorruptible

I can't come to a point of understanding
Doubters and their condescension.
Seeing the life beyond seeing,
It is Life Himself they're questioning.

When Life came unbounded by space and time,
When Life lived like sand but even more fine,
Came to live with us, came from no matter how far.
Came to us on Earth, Bright and Morning Star.

In tranquil birth, caused the wise to fall on their knees,
Come in, sinner, needing no tax or fees.

In peaceful death, caused all the Earth to be forever quaking,
A click shot to the head, Death is crippled, walks without stinging.

I can't seem to understand, how unclear it can be,
How can Doubters call illogical, loving unconditionally.

How can they call the breaking of chains, a fake institution of freedom.
When Life came, and saw through our shame and called us inheritors of His Kingdom.

In tranquil birth, in peaceful death,
Beyond the grave, a victor in defeat.
In tranquil birth, in peaceful death,
I still don't get your lack of belief.

Oh why am I still hurting
Isn't it past the hour of pain?
Hell is only temporary
Til He rids you of all shame!

I stepped into  Your room
Try to relive Your relieving
To rid me of my gloom
Try to receive Your revealing

Jealous the jealous God
I seek restless for Your love
Mine eyes grow tired and weary
Jealous the jealous God

Jealous the jealous God
I drown helpless in Your flood
I thirst scarcely for Your mercy
Jealous the jealous God

Why is the world so empty
Yet weighs millions o' pounds?
Where lies pile up aplenty
To keep the lost from being found

Why is deception
Like form of education
Setting false foundations
Corrupting His creation
As lies disguise damnation
For a paper-clad salvation
Sending ill vibrations
To the youth of all the nations

I wonder how much am I missing, o God?
A wonder even the universe cannot contain
Translated and made compatible in a human's brain.
Soulless animals kiss the land
In honor of the One
Who was, who is and is to come
Who dares their doubt expand
In disbelief blot out the sun
Jealous the jealous God
Soulless animals indeed we have become

What it means to be man
I don't wanna know
Being man never got me any good
I just live to die
To be eaten one day by crows

I'm not from here
Will be gone tomorrow too
Clothe like grass, spin like lilies
Then down the hole you go, fool

I want more, I always do
Just one more bite before the Marshall he comes
A spoonful more as I blush in deadly crimson
I want some more, I always do

Why? Tell me that's human nature;
All the pains and merriment
Cry! Cry! We knew us that way;
The joys of mortal excrement!

You say I was born with some spoon in my mouth
Then take it away from me
Can't take that pig from the sty
Take the sty from the pig!

I want more, I always do
Just one more bite before the Marshall he comes
A spoonful more as I blush in deadly crimson
I want some more, I always do

Won't have some more, please, I'm good
Just one more bite and nauseam, the gastric works it comes
A spoonful more and I'm crushed in deadly crimson
I want some more, I always do

Mister Mumble Plight in vain ironed his tie dry-cleaned his hankie several hundred times spent his life eating his three hundred dollar caviar from his three hundred dollar caviar jar

As he goes out on a world that expects nothing of him than  expectations from him for as loong as he remembers opens his anti-UV umbrella on a fake sunny morning Mister Mumble Plight

Mister Mumble Plight on his quest to do everything right
All deeds done correct I just wish it follows the rest
Mister Mumble Plight

Mister Mumble Plight don't fail us now cuz the earth stood still as it gave us your frown please cover your stab wounds Mister Mumble Plight

Mister Mumble Plight homebound again his bag bound full of paper and knitted tie on a fake programed day lurks fake programed rain

On his bag hung the Awkward Arachnid with limbs shihivering cold evidently bearing a burden twelve years old
"But Miss Awkward my hands won't be of any help" Plight plead "but a trade-in is not what I acquire but it is to lead these feet into paradise, Mister Mumble Plight"

As the spider walk towards the end of the tunnel Mumble's steps involuntarily forward and as the blur clears out flowery patterns of bluets and daisies Mumble blabbered as his eyes never thought it sees to see the day.

I saw her crying before,
It was beautiful. She was pleading for her child.
Intercessing for her to come back into the Master's arms.
There, there she goes again.
Pouring her heart out onto the Master's ear.
He loves the purity of her brokeness,
The fine quality of her pain.

Under the glades of the Master's gardens she knelt and pleaded once more.
She held in her arms one of her daughters who swam in the Sea of Flesh only to surface out and bear another.
She reached out her hand "Come, child. No use chasing after the flesh made of muscle and blood. Come child, come join your mother."
Her child reached the surface, drenched in regret. The days were filled with hope or the lack thereof.
She was lured by the pleasures of the seas, hiding under the guise of love.

But amidst all that, all Mother had for her was a blanket of warm compassion. Dismissing hot cups of condemnation everyone else had to offer. And she embraced her.
Back in the Master's garden she gave all her troubles at the foot of the Master's tree and stood up relieved of burden.
She faces another day, welcoming doubters and the troubled with arms wide open. Then again she lays it down on the foot of the Master's tree, for lives kept from ruin, for hearts not to harden.

I saw her crying before, and there she comes again. Together we sat and plead before our Master's feet. Running in wounded, rising up healed.
I saw her crying before, it was beautiful. I saw how she plead for herself, purging and redemption.
The world tried to take her out, but she only came back stronger every single time.
If you saw her crying then, it'll break you. She was torn and it was dreadful.
But from nothing she went up from glory to glory.
I saw her crying again, it was beautiful.

Aim well, aim true
A refurbished face,
From a cry and hue
A bottled song just for You

From a stretch of tissues
From inches of a grin
Oh hark the heralds
Extra! Extra!
For Dobbie is free from the ******* of sin!

That's all I can stands, and I stands no more!
Mis-sized forearms can cause a little Thor!

A clean slate and a comma,
A rid of blight
I won't strap-out without a fight
On a zero to none I could still stand a chance
Place your bets on the duel of a pure heart and bad romance

1-2-1-1, 1-2 to 2
Pure heart hits turned the black birds into blue
Jab-straight-hook-straight!
Straight!-straight!-straight!
Fo­r bad romance it was always never than late

In arms a-clinched,
In needs of each other's cleave
Oh but stand up for the Greatest Warrior who ever lived
This habituated mantle only craves for;

A clean slate and a comma,
A rid of blight
I won't strap-out without a fight
On a zero to none I could still stand a chance
Place your bets on the duel of a pure heart and bad romance

Alas, after the bout the canvass had its slain
His subtle dance, a downpour and in vain
Raise your arm on bell's a-cue
The winner of this match; it's up to you

He has told you, o man. What is true
And what has the Lord require of you
Not to bow to wooden statues,
But to give praise where praise is due.

  Show me, o man. What is good
What's better than the Christian worldview,
If the world could view a life of a man like Christ's eyes would do.

Is to live forever better than to reincarnate?
Is to be forgiven of sins better than to live as a cow, a jackal, several lives until you become the whole zoo until all your transgressions you could pay?

The audacity, o man. To be able to doubt
The very air we can't breathe without
Is to where we get the right.
To question the freedom given by Who fought the good fight.

How dare you, o man. To look for the Omnipresent amidst the presence of evil in life.
Rather than to ask where does it come from, the very consistent evil inside.

For God created you, o man.
A fine, unique, intricate work of art.
Yet you burn daylight, tweeting about how awful this world became where in fact it is an issue of the heart.

I beg of you, o man. Not to wait until you are so called "worthy" to be forgiven.
For wickedness will only be increasing,
Without a God whose forgiveness is anything but depleting.

In the path of life, o man. The wicked will be corrected by the rod.
Through the fall and whimsy and everything odd.
He asked you, o man only to commit justice and to walk humbly with your God.

Oh Rock! Upon You I build my foothold
Don't let me wander off astray
Tie a knot of a bell on my pleading throat
You who reign over all, King of Old!

Seasick and half dead from the flooding dangers of my vanity
Help! I'm getting ****** down-dry, a slice of my deadly miry pie
You're hand not too short to lend me life anew and of serenity

Oh Endless! Awakened from a dire sleep
I come before Your tireless feet
Bathe in springs of abundant grace
'Til my hands grow tireless toiling the earth for the shade of Your face

Time may move its hands of tricks and deceit
Stagnant pool of smirking clocks
Right before I accept defeat
Stay my hand with everlasting wings

Oh Steadfast! Aiming towards love with eyes so true
To You who deserves where all praise due is due
You look through me, creepy candy coating
Embraced with arms everlasting

Love of which knows no cease
One desire of which heals all disease
Dogs lie await to be fed by the crumbs of You, Purest.
Show me great and mighty things thy mind hast not knowest

Shut it!
Stop before
Your mouth eats up your face
And you'll be no more!

The longer you dive
In depths you think you know
The more you drown
Into your loss! Oh no!

Lived your life in a field of feels
Instead of sweat you put on blush-on
On your cheek
You cut your hair of iv'ry crown
Into a helm of death resound
Imposter smile, you twist your hips
Marred the very throne where Love exists
You pound your chest but terrified
A bitter fate, a broken battle cry

Will more of dread would soon transpire
Come shut your mouth til sickness dies!

I still long for a lot of things from you.
Like the smell of your room when you're peacefully dreaming.
Like the heavy beats in my chest when I'm about to kiss your neck while I'm spooning you.
Like the debate in my mind whether you'd like it or you'll like it a lot.

Oh pray that the summer could be more forgiving.
So we could run up to the hills
Lie under trees, tired from carving our names on their helpless barks
Watch the gaps between leaves and the sunlight piercing through
Draw scriptures on your skin.
Your blank page of a skin.
Always ready for a masterpiece.
Already, in itself, (if I may correct myself) a masterpiece.

I still long for the moment
After your sweating forehead gives way to your radiance.
After your legs stop working from hiking grounds of brown and green.
Icky damp, cracking dry.

I still long to see you
Playing on the river
Skipping stones
Soaking your heels.

Shaking off sand
Stuck in your Birkenstock.
Collecting stones you find fancy.
Writing our names on the sand.

Lean your head against my shoulder
Tired from all your adventure
Selfishly keeping each monumental seconds
Safely in our private album.

I still long to long for you.
Through summers,
Through seasons.

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser.
In Him is pure peace and pure life and none lesser.
In Him is everlasting and nothing's even better.
His Word is not a chore list, it's an eternal Love letter.

He prunes every branch that abides and Him and bears fruit
He seeks the ones that chose the path of endless pursuit
Of His face, His will, a branch who chooses to go all out
A life greatly lived, a life who can't live while Him without.

Every branch in me that does not bear fruit He takes away
A happy illusion, a path of the gold-plated astray.
But to a dismay, without the roots a branch goes dry
Thrown to the ground, iuyet picked up but thrown to the fire.

The branch whog stay true to the Vine pleases the Vinedresser
Who calls out to Him amidst the thorns, despite the world's pleasure
With so much fruit a branch has no better sign
When trampled by life would produce the finest wine.

Nostalgia is a comfortable mattress.

Roll onto one corner and you'll smell
Every verse that struck you
From old songs that
You hummed so tirelessly to.

Tuck yourself in to a blanket
Of traditions now long gone,
Of patterns in each other's skin
You knew oh so well.

Hold onto edges of that heavenly pillow.
A fondness nobody thought would die.
A contentment that used to help you sleep.
Now is the very nightmare,
Every bed bug who gave you the rash.

That gave you the reason to get up,
Pound the call of now.
The ascending ring.
Quaking the side table.

This poem requires more of the now to be finished.

I hide my giant eyes from cartoons
From cuties, a grin that of a baboon
A flimsy fellow in mighty ferocious words
Summon my self-proclaimed ridicule hoards!

Never have I ever had a single flaw
Struck you with my silver cyber claw
My dreams of growth with a single shroom
All trapped inside my  dark veiled room

Why, if it isn't Kurinar
Adored by one and all
Tough claim, tough claim that's not for me, that concrete tangible platinum call

I lost my case pleading for white space
To a noodler for a mother and her husband with a cold shoulder
And sister with doe a deer, horns and posthaste feet and a bunny-rabbit for a face

This hunger grew into a grief
To the deaths it pulled me right to the grave
This once brave heart now succumb to unbelief
Why, if it isn't--it isn't myself anymore

Now behold!
Before you, force-polished, self-blessed floors of pure imitation gold
A freshly-baked sugarcoat matched with my favored wasabi berry float

All on a table set before what seems to be too unfair welcomed by a cool breeze but stabbed by a sizzling stake at your rear.

Why, if it isn't Kurinar
Son of the sweeper superstar
Why, pity to this horrible lad
Destroyed then forced into a wheat facade.