The ones who wished


    No Fight


     And the comfortable nothing


    Stay Behind


Or


   Never intended to Move


   Desperately content


   with drinking beer


   Buying more junk


   racking up 0s


Yet engage in


   talks of politics


      and world events


    Playing Kissingers & J.Kerrys


        As a pastime


     demonstrating restless intellects


      towards no end


        nor for the Benefit of


          anyone.


“It’s an exercise to engage


your mental muscles you see,


old man, must keep yourself


limber.”


Even at parties


    downed a couple drinks


Still can’t Muster their


  Courage to Participate


  In anything remotely


  resembling Life


     Yet relish in


    the backseat of constraint


    Judging quietly


        of the fact that


        they have never looked


          like a fool


             in font of anybody


Do they even


    remember themselves?


    At last,


after tea    after beer


after scotch    after gin


after wine    after cakes


    they again sunk in


    to what they know best


    Cozy in numbers on


    the ground


      engage again in their


      mental exercise with


      color lights & harmless tunes


      talking about the


    Dog-eat-Dog world


       right outside their door


       while eating


         delicious affordable pizza


    with cheery pop sodas.


       I got curious


    and walked outside


      from their smokes


    And you guess what


      All cars and busy stores


         kids playing basketball


           lazy sunday afternoon sidewalk table full of drinks and food


             people in packed malls


         I did not see


            a single dog.


I think that’s the


   taste of dream


  which was never on their


       menu


  and they had to make it


       make sense


  so they never needs to


    get out their front door


    and finesse their way


     Into anywhere half-way decent.


“These sad fucks don’t Believe


    in a damn thing.”


As I Step Off the


    station


  and breathing in the


    Scentless air of London


    This town is not


       That bad.


​

Numb.


Feeling like a corpse.


Spent more Time in my dark bedroom


Than any Outside world & the People


Afraid?


       Not Quite.


Used to be the case


    Now it’s but habit.


I dream to see the Ocean


   A pot of dreams

   
       Endless gentle waves


            To Sleep on


Gravity


   Each step can be so heavy


         It keeps bringing me down


   I was


         A child once


But


    I never changed


It’s


    Everything Else that's changed


Still waiting


    No ship is


               Coming around


I wonder
​
   
   Do we always have to build


The ships ourselves, timber by timber,


nail by nail?


       Aren’t there easier ways


           Just to be somewhere


                  Touch it


                      Feel it


                         Before it


                              Dissolves


                                 Into ourselves


                                    Again?


   My strangers

   
          Who’re sailing nightly

   
   I often wonder


     how’ve you fared


                your journeys.


    Are you better
​
    
           or worse


           Smoother


              or Rocky


         Brimming with hope


            or in the dark


          Just like me?


            I pour my love


              Into cups of


                     Honey Liquor


     When it reaches


                 your nightstand


       I hope you drink it


                 gently


     And think of me


         When you close


                    your eyes


     In the realm beyond.


     In there you’ll meet me


     And


        we will dance


       when the wind


              Stops Blowing


                      Then


        we shall lie on


              the Hill


        And watch


              The Moon & it’s skirt


     of dazzling stars


        As we fall asleep


          in each other’s Arms.


   When we’re both


      Crumbled of Wrinkles


    Finally


       We can kick our heels


And Be with Each of Each other


          For


                Ever


                         n


                              E

   
                                   V


                                        E


                                             R.


​

A numbing sensation


People’s lives are so zesty that they


Crave hardship and pain


I vaguely believed


That loneliness and fear have left me for good


Because I’m now no longer


A college boy


Something about the number of age increases


Makes me a man of maturity


Says who?


I have deluded myself believing


That


Life


Is a straight arrow


And as long as you proceed


God


Will take care of it all


Well I’m still lonely


And sitting in a dingy scrap-room


Fighting my lowly existence


I haven’t cried since January 2020


And 8 years before that


I can’t do it


My parental love beat that ability


Out of me


For permanently


You don’t want to see a man cry


It makes a man weak


Or does it


Just means a man cries


And nothing more.


Well None of that matters now


Need to sleep again


Again and Again.

A small cup


That’s how much love


She had in me


Nothing substantial


But Not


Non-existent either


A small cup


For a man who


Doesn’t drink coffee


A small cup


For a man who needs


A Large cup


For water


A small cup


What do I do


With a small cup?

​

I have not written for a very
    
     Long Time


The death, the possibility of
    
     Death


Hath returned to my life


And


Awoken me


Finding me under a spotlight


A Face


    I barely recognise


Drips into snow

    Melts

    Into me


Or into
​
    the sky


And just like that


    I lost him again.


Did you know


    That people are amazing?


That they’re capable


    Of so great of truth


        and honesty


As well as


    Put on their mask


    To shield up


Not even their scars


    But themselves, so distant


        Almost or Already

    
            Beyond recognition


I did not know


    that you can’t recognise

        
            Yourself


Or that


    You could always lose it


Shit


    It scares me.


    I don’t want to lose me

​
                Again

In exactly 14 days


I will be homeless


For not playing ball


To the Dullest motherfucker


Who needs a friend


that could withstand all


of his bullshit


And a city


So wretched


that it gulps you up


without any pretense


Nor a please & thank you


So chewed up


That one piece does not regard


another piece


with any heart left


I’m fucked


And left alone




The madman who shouted


on the train last night


With his PHD in psychology


was right


and rightfully furious


“It’s all broken and in pieces


Maybe we will fix it


maybe we won’t.”


His mother died today


And he drank beer


from plastic gallon bottles


that he kept in a thin plastic bag


“Fuck you and your


ridiculous sense of fashion”


To a yuppy briefcase-carrier


in the next compartment who’s


grinning in a safe distance.


The madman sang a few more


And stayed inside at the last stop


Then I looked at myself


“Yes boy. I’m


wearing Black as


well.”



​

​
A Stranger did not recognize me


Sweet lie with a pad on the back


I Stood alone amidst them all


We passed each other by


My ears were lost


Then found again the next evening


During the silence I watched everything


And I mean everything


With Sobriety. Old friend, Sobriety.


Darlings as they may be


But none of them mine


A dear beautiful lady


With Shining dancing shoes on


Searching for something ephemeral to last another eternity


I existed in-between moments


She Caught me, misplaced, alone


I passed it off as mere exhaustion


Quick steps away in silence


I watched her disappear


“Damn it”, I thought


“Should’ve been honest, I graduated today


and all I have is lost and bitterness.”


What she could’ve said


I will never know


This old head of mine


Is finally,


Back on the horse again.


The storm has already passed


Let’s descend, you and I


Revel with the dust at night.


I love you all.


Let’s share a sigh of relief


Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh


(I wrote some many hs I forgot what it meant)

According to you, there ain’t no god and judgement day


Some silly nonsense of by-gone assholes trying to rule us down


Good and Evil are just convenient devices that aim to serve your annual gross report


Time ticks and you need to run to get your nails done before the festival on Saturday night


Two more glasses of champagne while you go through your pictures by the beach, comparing which ones most suit your eye


‘I didn’t want to say this’, you said, ‘but you outta change your shoes every Monday, haven't anyone taught you how to dress?’


You got tired just talking and drinking


Nice silk dress you have on that matches your red accent


I’m not a military man, Never had the uniform to impress


Taking time to think through what you’ve said, then I realized that you actually have said none


I don’t believe no sex and your lovely glamour looks just like another nameless chandelier


When the War comes


           the Wolf howls


           the Food run out


           the Men perish


           the Lies triumph
 

Will you bring back Peace


              take us Home


              plant new Corps


              raise the Dead


              let goodness Shine


As God bellow his wrath


Will your batting eyelashes fend him down?


No, Lady.


There’s just too much hurt in the world


When everyone is fighting not to bend down


Every bit of Sun only peeks though dark heavy clouds


No, Lady.


Take your money back to the bank and raze it to the ground


Treat your skincare and diet routine more seriously won’t bring you back alive


No, Lady.


I don’t think you know how this works


Your Vanity Doth Offend My Pride And Ground.


​

​
A Palm Tree tells you everything is possible


Tall, thin lip leaves by dozens, bearing coconut


In its waving and green nature


It Says


I be without questioning


My fruit is slow but replenishes


A single meal for a few mouths


Dry, white brown, dying leaves


Never got much sun, barely holding on


Head nodding heavily toward the ground


it does not wave like those on top


but wind moves its crumbling limbs


That resembles life


in slight movements


left and right


Then you realize


the whole tree leans


left and right


It doesn't have much


Style


But it’s innate form


is quite majestic


As Hell.


​

​
As the sun sets


in every minute


There Is a moment


among moments


As we grow & decompose


for as long as


we live


death is born out


of Life


While the living


feed upon


death


A Most Harmonious


Little design


like an old watch


or a master violin


It


Works, maintain, transform


till It


Crumbles


Or ascend


perfection


Don’t you want


a laugh


with cigarettes


to sense all you can


in a manner


of seconds


into eternity


while sipping on


your coffeespoon


Till we die


then give life


again?

Should I Die this moment


It would not make a slightest difference


In the eyes of Archimedean Point


My Acquaintances will eventually or never learn the News


My immediate and distant friends will spend a thought or two


My kinsmen will be upset then have their lunch


Just like the Oak tree Outside my Balcony


Should it vanish, uprooted Overnight


I shall complain then read another play


Life and Death create reality that demands acceptance


The world will continue to live when rid off all Animals & Humanity


The End of the world is but a Romantic Phrase


A Vain Egotistical statement to accentuate illusory self-importance

​

Should I live


Or should I die


Just like Walking into my kitchen after getting out of bed


How strange, under morning light


Everything remained exactly where I left them last night


Even my half-drank tea sitting in my cup next to the sink


I Stop and listen


Moment, moments of Silence


Life will always be, just in different senses


​

​
Hop on in, babe, Beware the New Tarnish


Tell me Where you’d like to Go.


I’ve Got the maps and a tank of Gasoline


And plenty of times for You.


Not unlike you, i’m new to these waters too.


Catching the midnight sun and watching the world flows by.


Sure, I can keep a banter, just don’t pour out your soul, remember to leave some for you.


Can you feed on Booze and Cigarettes alone?


There aren’t no good answers on an empty stomach for us blubbering fools.


I grow patience-less and cruel when I can’t eat for 10 Hours


Please Kindly forgive my sins when you manage the heart to do so


Didn’t I mention the traveler always give Pity to those who Unveil their mantle?


Please stay in the Ride, Knowing there aren’t Second Chances coming from you


It gives me the Hollows that I Can’t drop you where you needed to go.


Goes to prove that I ain’t no Saint when I bit off more than I Could Chew


No good to keep you on since you outta walk on your own.


I Know I’ve been saying otherwise, but that’s just wounded pride & Untamed Ego.


So Long, my wee friends


I’ll Catch you later down the Road.


Last thing first, Remember to Call for a Hitchhike


Maybe you’ll see the headlights Shine on from end of the Night


That I might be able to say again


“Passenger, Goodbye.”

​
Four men holding four dogs on a leash


Walking in slow pace across the school yard


The coffee is bitter and creamy


I remember when I was very young


I asked my cousin, who was in high school


“Why do you drink this thing? It’s bitter!”


I have forgotten his answer, mustn’t be a remarkable one


But that was my first taste of coffee


Bitter, infused with my hatred.


Now before I sleep


I think about the creamy bitter coffee that I will drink tomorrow


And


It brings me joy


Almost the same as a large taffy


Will send the Eight-year-old me to the clouds


I close my eyes and wonder


What tomorrow will bring.


It is curious about the things I used to mock


I don’t know if I have become a hypocrite


Or becoming a man, while losing his child.

​We are all stuck here in this piece of history


You stand behind the counter


I come in and sit down at the pavilion every day


You dream of marvelous wonders in the world that I bring in


I crave a good cup of coffee to calm myself down while listen to the birds


There is no greater truth in my being or yours


No union, Nor love affair, Certainly no friendship


Figments of imagination pumped by wild fantasies


Channeled as fuel to feed the lifelessness of our shared colorless days


You, in your conviction of a story


I, in an endless search for something that extends infinitude


There isn’t anything special


See, that’s a word crafted and infused with artificiality


In sooth, the truth is all too plain


We are but human after all.

​
Temptation lives in the heart


To Want; To Please; To Squander


Pokes the eye and Plagues the imagination


Seize the mind to Stare


And


Squeeze out nobler Dispositions


Takes men for women,


Women for meat.


Creeps in with long Patience


Nudge every waking object 


Into


Walking Pleasures


Command men to beasts,


Reason to a whore.


As Storming Winds puffing


Wheezing


An ever so old tale


To Dwindle


Our twinkling, scolding soul.


A constant regret


That led to sunny prayers


Ever so frail is a man.


Yet by a sleep so dies


His Studious Convictions


Have faith, ye gods


Or ye godless gods so faithless win'ed.



 

​
I stand in exile


Some nowhere island hoarding plenty people


It rains a lot and still they work


No obvious ambition


And everybody


Is so eager to relax.


They just drink, dance, smoke and laugh


But meek enough to bow down to the money machine


They appear god-ish but


Nobody seeks


Study, work, fuck, marry, raise kids


Without much survival pressure


Never in my life did I dream of here


Yet here I am entrapped and footloose


See they emphasis a different type of life


Resemblance of soul but truly living as ants


Yesterday I asked a cab driver


“In an ideal world, what would you do?”


“A mechanic, yeah? Fix cars, more money.”


“But if you can be


The king of France


A Fighter pilot


CEO of all corporations


Pope of the catholic church


would you still be a car mechanic?”


“Oh, then no, yeah?”


“What would you be then?”


There was only silence


And I mourned for another wasted soul


“Make you think, yeah?” he says


Precisely, since you flushed it


Right down the toilet.

The Slower it gets


  The More Flavor one finds


    In the Minute Passing


      One learns the treasure of Time


And the weight of Life


  Incessant Marching Drum in Undertow


    But live to breathe, eat, talk


      And taste the differences of Air


We all Live and We all Die


  Find tenderness and Love in company


    Devotion and Honor in the works


      Abide and Follow None Else But Truth.


​

Into the night I rode


A moderate good distance


My royal horse turns and coughs


Left me some walking


Singing familiar tunes


I pause every few steps for some breathing


How many New Years should I endure


And unwelcome thoughts bound I to jest


A dozen good strangers will do


Yet millions so unneeded


"To Heaven, sir? And Hell too. For it's the same place, you see."


Well, my sweets


Still distance too great


And let's walk a little


​Shall we?