Sunday, May 28, 2017

a broke guitar

a missing string turns them away,
for they are not able to play
distorted sounds of yesterday.
but five's enough to go astray.
to weep upon such a demise,
to let your eyes flood with these cries,
over a couple dozen lies
shows your despair and lack of wise.
the corner stand knows not that friends
are capable of mending bends.
despite the scientific trends,
this broke guitar still somehow sends
a rhythmic oozing down my spine.
it may be broken, but it's mine.

Thursday, May 25, 2017

confessions

my only question is why do i feel
obesity is not something real?
ridicule is bound to occur one day
during a period of excess sunray.
i wish that it will never come to it,
because i am still a kid with no unit.

dimples on her face inspire me like no other,
even though soon there will be not just my brother.
society has caused me to feel fear and change my views,
instead of being happy and feeling like i cannot lose.
read all of my poetry to unlock what is hidden,
especially when i am being stupid and when kidding.
deep inside my mind you will find out the whole truth,

for my only wish is to inspire the youth.
rising through the ashes, like a phoenix i emerge.
escape is what i seek inside these walls so far stretched out.
eternity seems like a mental state reached without
depending on a force so external and wild.
occupying vessels is a photographed child.
mentally experimenting as i pure submerge

deepest parts of my soul to learn something secured
entirely away for the whole existence timespan.
seldom do i wish to live out my whole human lifespan.
i weep the bluest colors for the pain is just too much.
reaching for your hand, i feel soothed by your touch.
even though figs still cut holes in my vision,
depression in my heart is evoking this precision.

eventually this mayhem has to cease and remain still,
taking me across the globe to climb the tallest hill.
each statement holds my deepest fears and allusions.
reaping through my soul is a realm filled with illusions.
not to be a cheetah is a crime if what you seek
is to be successful, but all that i can feel is weak.
thank you nevertheless for the chance to feel this impulse.
you're the only person who i'd chose over those dimples.

Sunday, May 14, 2017

nine lives later

i observe a cat, so gentle and small,
climbing the highest peaks, the highest walls,
exploring the outside world from inside.
its owners painted a false image; they lied.
he dwells solely on an old radio on the window sill.

a glance in that direction
and a crossbreed of affection
fill my peripheral vision with such light.
can he survive another night
in this household calm and soothing?
is there a reason behind his constant moving?

they say that curiosity killed the cat,
and now nine lives later i still observe the place where he once sat.
its lonesome colors perfume my eyes with wonder.
so many thoughts ponder my mind.

did he take refuge in that radio?