TRANSITONS

Confusion and delusion screams from an eroded place,

Sprays of wisdom liven my private space,

Dragged back from the shore by the sea waves,

Into the deep sea for days.

I fall back upon my bare back uncluttered,

Listen to chants of those who believe in cosmic settlers,

I float on brisks of scented perfumes in the mist,

I drown in the puddle thoughts not on my list.

I ride the wind and find the meaning,

throw it around wait to bounce and regurgitate,

Inhale exhale, deceive device and portray my self,

Single and alone behind the stone hurried to hell.

Climbing up my ladder, I reach a roof,

High as the mounts of abyss,

As I skyward proceed, my ambition rises,

Grasp for air, and lose my spirit breath .

Silence,

Silence,

faint vibrations,

Hissing wind,

Gentle breeze,

Clear sky,

Distant rain.

I run through, fall through,

I wake to a beat, then two,

All that was, has now become old.

MENtal comforts and intolerance

Mr. Mosquito! You are so wonderful,

you can do wonders and do it so while you wander,

Beneath the dark shades and tangled laces,

around the spaces and grass full terraces,

Oh! you can inflict a wound and inflict it so delicately,

So effective and so mortifying,

Yet so seem to be bring no mental discomfort.

Many who see you do not judge you,

They would just choose not to let you,

They spray clouds over your hovering space,

Loot you over and over again.

But you come!

Like a guerrilla, silent acapella,

You will not let her,

Sleep beneath her shelter,

Taking the weakest and the mightiest.

What could be more wonderful than your wings,

flapping with freedom and speed.

I remember, now when I was well,

You came and came so deceitfully,

You wretched my being and my liver,

You made me shiver,

I hated you and I do now so ever,

Well I will not tolerate you never,

Your sisters will perish in this weather,

Guided by my voice of intolerance.

Faint laughter, smirks there after,

Silence returns, tables turned,

we sleep in our minds,

finding voids of discomfort,

waiting for how long,

should we tolerate this strong,

Force of nature,

till we chance upon,

rival so weak, that our minds,

Only took a week,

To be washed of reason.

Three lesbians

Followed the Devil in disguise,

a shrude and proud beacon of surprise,

Like a leaf covered by rust,

Picked up and thrown to dust,

Floating across many blades,

That devoid the suns rays,

They landed in front of tomb,

Only to find they were doomed.

What is the point of searching so long?

bending so low, and stretching the same song,

One found herself in the edge of a dagger,

Another just stayed all night and swaggered,

The other just shaved her head over again,

While the rest gave way for a similar fate,

Only one questioned their methods and looked grim.

She joined a club of two centuries,

begged for a place in the obituaries,

Even danced for seven deities,

She never was happy in cities,

She went to the mountains and people took pity,

Of what she had become, this boiled her pretty,

So she lost her mind, lost her time,

Now old and frail and not even worth a dime,

her flesh was now next to grime.

So we grew old and listened to stories time to time,

Same life, same wife and same knife,

same faces, short paces and longer laces,

No one understood, a few did what they could,

We danced and sang and plundered around.

The arguement

it may be about life,
it may be about strife,
It may be about a knife,
It may even be about your wife.
The reason is clear,
Its simple and dear,
you love your country,
You hate your neighbour's spear.
But you don't see your eyes are blind,
you are run by pigs who have no spine,
You stand developed by ages of crime,
You fight for days without wasting time.
YOur mind is bleak and senses speak,
Of a chance to strengthen the meek,
When will that day come,
where all stand and share a place,
Not be out looking for a street.

Anonymous

Who should care if I was anonymous?

If i was batman, then even the jokers will be after me

If I was superman then kryptonite will keep me from being free,

but if I was anonymous not mysterious, no one would see.

I could tell stories and get acceptance centuries later,

Walk among fellow men who just are just like craters,

I could feel accepted as a vigilante and solve matters,

Come home and beat my wife and grow fatter.

If I was anonymous, my eyes would be many,

I would be one with the ones see a felony,

And call it their right to be keepers of many,

Later I could fall in the same pool for which was dug by me,

No one would know I was dirty, because it was done anonymously.

Space

my words don't mean anything,

infact they mean nothing,

slowly they would have just faded,

only if you wouldn't have added.

All that has been said,

Has been done and dead,

Season after season arives,

Only stories unreal survive.

Figure the passion of the of the sayer,

the master story teller,

telling of all thats been done,

Of ages and of a sum.

I often why wonder,

If I were and the hour,

by time we calculate,

though I had much as you spake.

Did I live my days till some,

Dearthly wild adventure sun?

Or did I pass my self without,

A second of to think and shout.

Or is the the life we lead,

Not worthy of stops and beats,

When all we ever need,

Is two meals a day to eat.

Hey watch for the silence,

It can over whelm your days till end,

send you to hell or may be to heaven,

Wherever you wish to attend.

Why will I run around,

When all come back in a merry go round,

Sadness fill the sand,

Which sucks it to never come to hand.

Only, you will matter in the end,

Till leaves dry and bridges bend,

Till rivers change and oceans wave,

Your smile will last the age.

By the stairs

Four walls and a slanting roof,

A windblower for me and you.

Two lights, one long the other round,

One door and a mirror to see you true.

A wardrobe too small for two,

Six stars stuck by you,

One table by the cot so blue,

Another laid on the floor anew.

Two chairs of one all use,

A drawer some books old and new,

papers stuffed in like Phew!

Medicines lying of some use.

Two guitars, Black and Hue,

Wall hangings and posters two,

Inviting one on the gate,

Telling all please, Don't be late.

Of all its always new,

though my the clothes that lie are few,

One on the chair and seat and there,

There's always room for those who care.

Creatures

Thelapois was a serpent,

Evil as the Urchin

Sat on a crown his eyes were ever searching.

Maybe he went for Revacoy

Who was a sailor in a boy

but had the spirit that could lift

a dead man off his wit

So Thelapois sat on the ocean

Waiting like an urchin

To swallow the boy

Whom he marvelled like a new toy

Along came Opilia

She strangled the sea out

Twisted the waters in her labyrinth

Of high mountains and skin

As she searched the horizon

Helifas had told her a while

Like Judas he sold

the spirit of life foretold

To steal what the serpent wanted of old

So the dark winds descended on the boy

And serpents crawled beneath the shore

The horizon was closer

As wanted nothing lower

As they would not understand

They would not if they can

He gave his soul to the little ones

Since then we have all heard of

Stars under the ocean