I'd love you a kind of love that goes unspoken
Like a grave unnoticed
By fox kits playing over them in bliss.
And those wild foxes bleed music from their veins
As their feet graze
Against the sweet hawthorns you planted for me
When we found ourselves drenched in the soft summer rain
That soon turned into a hailstorm of huge calamity.
Without clarity,
I lost you.
You were lost in my lies,
While I wasn't there with you.
You should have been singing
I should have been listening.
They search deep for a sweet
Soulful sound that melts the ears,
And years of time pass for them to meet
The avalanche of emotions
That sorrow brings into the threshold
Of our skies where lies impatient
Boreas and all the love that his mournful soul
Has to offer to this willful ignorance of a childish heart.
Like a child I leap and scream your name into the heavens
Where spark-birds fly limitless into the arms of Life
And you, among those rimless clouds, my love
Smile back at me like I'm the treasure that you hunt
And not me who searches a shelter by your irridescent feet
Attitudes of people in front of me
They shape me
They inherit me
Behaviours of souls I observe
Treatment I don't deserve
They impact me
Ideas of myself from far within
Call out their name
It's my name in their mouths
And theirs in mine
Their minds in mine
They listen, I listen
They talk, I talk
I get tired of pretending
They find comfort in projecting
I become them
And they become me
Reflections of me in the clearest water surface
Lost and lonely
The need to belong
The desire to be understood
To be loved
And cared for
To be taken seriously
I become me, thus
A mirror of my own self
Deep beyond the wild blue yonder
There is no over and there is no under
The stars they shine like jellyfish at play
And the sun rises beneath our feet by day
The Sun rays filter through the gaps in our fingers
And there is a gentleness thereafter that lingers
Until the Moon takes her rightful place in the dark
Whereby gently through a lullaby upon an adventure we hark
Two dead animals lie beside one another
One inside a cage and the other out
One loved once,
Saw the day once,
Kissed the clouds once.
And the other never breathed,
Never opened his eyes,
Never even spoke.
The one inside sleeps in eternal peace.
He's calm, soft, cuddly.
The one outside had seen better days.
The one outside could have had it better.
All she wanted was water.
All she wanted was air.
The one inside never was alive and never will be.
And the one outside once was, but now it won't be.
The one outside was killed
By the makers of the one inside.
They took away her air,
Her water,
Her flight,
Her feathers.
They tried giving all of that to the one inside.
But no matter how much they tried,
He wouldn't bark,
He wouldn't sniff,
He wouldn't love.
He would be loved by the young ones of them to come
And then one day he would wear and tear and gather dirt
Out of neglect of the same creators that tried to give him life.
He will never know the taste of freedom as he burns in the incinerator.
When his time is long gone,
When he has overdone his stay.
And that's when the one outside will laugh
From high above.
She was alive once.
She breathed once.
She would laugh in agony and anger,
And disdain and hunger.
She would know the wrath of nature and how it treats those children
Who have overdone their stay.
She would know it because she was her one of her children
She would know it, because she is her.
When my poetry stagnates, I know the world is on fire.
I know the world is on fire, for my poetry does not sing.
It is not born out of misery, my words,
But squeezed instead out of the last remaining willfull happiness I have left within me.
This happiness that writhes in pain,
Asking to be let free.
In my misery I drink of the world.
I embody the cowardice my forefathers taught me to seek.
I am flesh and I am bone and the misery of this earth
Does not entail me.
And neither does my poetry.
Dried up sands within fall like an inch of time pasing by from a higher cliff
And atop it I sit, wondering
When shall the end be near me.
Angry beats of an angry song in my ears.
Guitar strums of words so revolutionary that they feel jarring.
They bleed the numbness away.
Life becomes an endless bus journey.
Life is filled with such endless roads that lead to nowhere hearts,
And unknown halls that breed dead trees;
No Garden of Eden in sight.
This is God's hell where we abide!
Unseen faces pass by on both sides
As I run dead center with blinders in my eyes.
I try and fixate my sight on one of them,
For a moment I turn my head.
But before I can focus, it vanishes into chaos.
I stretch my hands out and it hurts as the fingers scrape walls that never fall, rebuilt over one another.
And the bones crack as they collide with the railings racing past.
Yellow lights brighter than fireflies scorch my eyes.
I stay awake at night and every now and then I hear the mad dog cry.
The mad dog drives me mad and I know I should sympathize but I can't.
He's dying.
I know he's dying.
But this is God's hell where we abide!
Where nothing we do makes it to those who need us,
And nothing we say makes it to those who feed us.
Romeo touches the feet of his lover
Juliet dies at war
Her pristine white gown stains in crimson
As she lies still on the grass with dark skies above
“She sleeps beautifully”, he declares
And their unborn child sucks on watermelon seeds
As the feet of the bride touches heaven
Countless red rivers drain into seas
She prays her lover can see her once more
Romeo downstairs laughs hysterically
He's happy that her bride smiles in death
He will always be proud of her bravery
Juliet lies very still among other bodies
With a flower in her hand of which no petals remain
Romeo in his dreams runs in a sea of poppies
Towards his lover, in a land of no restrain
Where blue skies bleed into yellow fields
Where sirens are unheard of
Where children don't pick bomb shells at the beach
Where white pigeons fly high above
Walking through sleepy afternoon lanes
I hear meal heavy stomachs heave out sighs
Of a momentary relief of illusion
Roads seem blurry,
Skies seem hazy,
Dogs and crowds scream no more.
French Romanticism reached my city
The nights are quiet and chilly.
Somewhere in the neighbourhood you'll hear a bark or two
The windows are closed but the life from within seeps out into the open
The street lamp outshines it all unless you look high enough
And there within the clouds you'll see
The face of tomorrow
French Romanticism reached my city
Through screens I watch road after road
I watch feet, I watch slogans and I watch bloodshed
Tilaks of red and orange mark people's foreheads
Green isn't confined to just the trees.
Blues and whites are a rare sight
Black lies within these hearts
French Romanticism reached my city
Here people like to call everything a Revolution
Songs of days gone by resurface,
Lyrics of a bygone time make more sense with every passing day
Writers have it easy these days,
Storytellers don't.
Ashes turn to ashes,
But my bones, no they won't.
There's a butterfly in my basement
It grows every time I see it
On each visit it spreads its wings
And allows me to pet it
It's colours are one of a kind
Hint of brown in a shade of green
It flutters around in my absence
It keeps my basement clean
The moss that accumulate every summer
Are the same colour as it's wings
The butterfly eats my moss covered floor
And when it's done, the doorbell rings
I have a doorbell at the entrance of my basement door
It's useful, at times like these
This butterfly unlike any others in the wild
Loves ringing it as a code for “Please”
“Please come in, give me a visit,
Please come look how clean I've made your floor.
Please comment on how much you like it,
And when you leave, please don't close the door.”
The butterfly in my basement is hungry for colours
It's seen glimpses of yellow and blue
Red, and purple and violet and pink,
It wants to visit my living room too
The butterfly in my basement now sits in my bedroom
It lies by the window sill
Calm and quite not bothering a soul
It tends to my house when I fall ill
The butterfly in my basement is all colourful now
Shades of rainbow paint it's wings
The moss covered basement sits abandoned now
The doorbell no longer rings
The butterfly in my basement grows and grows
While I shrink just enough to give the space it needs
After all the moss in the basement was not enough for it's nourishment
Now my grey house is on what it feeds.
In every universe we don't see,
Do you think we always end up away from each other?
Its hard not to write stolen lines when thinking about you.
The me I could've been with you.
Departed lips still bound by vines so strong
That they break the illusion of you within me.
Vines so old, vines so few
You're so old, I'm so new
Forgetting you with all the courage I had in me
Was the best I could do.
Leave me be, Anastasia
Leave me be.....
Let me suffer in this downtrodden earth
My sweet home where my dying bed lies solemnly
Let me die here, let me perish here.
I don't want to taste your lips anymore
No more in my dreams, no more.