Archive for poem

The Caterpillar and The Butterfly

On the outskirts of braveness lays fear
that audacity and stupidity veneer

So lays the caterpillar on the brink of despair
his paradigm shifted in a world he thought fair
when they took his love away,
stop……..hear the violin play

they took her a millions stories afar,
so he solemnly declared war

hearts beat faster then reason
swords yearn for treason
and even evil didn’t deserve his wrath
blood trails and screams filled his path

he fought for her; he killed them all
but where death stands, there’s no man too tall
no cause too great, if it starts it ends
time kills what it mends

the wounds that sparkled his fury
are the same that induced him slowly
in a world far away
beyond the reach of the gods she’ll pray

in her arms, his life dwindles away
Butterfly, he manages to say,
I’ve done all of this… so you can fly away”

I am

I am…

Incomplete like an abstract puzzle

I am…

A whisper like their quiet muzzle

I am…

Boredom like tick……tock……..tick…………tock

I am…

Empty like the writer’s block

I am….

Lonely like the moon in the sky

I am…

Sorry like the coward’s lie

 

I am all this without you!

Excuses

“Excuses, she yelled, excuses”
– But they’ve strangled all my muses!
“Excuses, she yelled…they’re all excuses!”

– But I’m not lying,
I never have time to see,
Too busy dreaming
Never have time for me
Tomorrow is way too pressing.
I never have time to eat,
I’m always hungry for more
And walking is a feat
If you’ve never done it before
It’s never what is
Because it’s always what if
You See, there was never a time to seize!
Umm… But what if?
What if life was never ending?

“Would you write me then?” she said,
Lying motionless in her death bed
-But my muses!
“Excuses, she whispered, excuses”
Soon I’ll borrow the casket that she uses.

The outcast

He sinks where you rise

He’s wise when he thinks

Would you believe that

There is a jail in heaven

And a heaven in hell

You wouldn’t know that

He dwells within him

It’s a grim story when he fails

He is misunderstood and misunderstands

And he built a bridge with his own hands

It doesn’t hold “good”

So he crossed his heart

And vowed to never cross it

You can’t build with a hatchet

Or attract people with a magnet

He said he could make up the time

If he could go back in time

So he bought the last hour glass

And hoped that it would last

But he laid in the same lies

And lived the same life

So he started crying heavy tears

And tear down his dreams and cried

That the world wasn’t fair

No it wasn’t a fairy tale

Instead it was as plain as his pain

As lame as his aim

For he made the wrong choices

Chose to fly but didn’t make it

He kept his secrets locked in a locket

His identity in his pocket

T’il he lost it

And found out

That he, himself was lost and found

In the darkest time the light shines the brightest

He had found his calling while phoning a friend

Who told him that he could rescue himself

By saving others

That he could hear without listening

But to listen meant to give ear

Said he had a life to live

So he should live life

See life is hard when you don’t have the right people around you

Yea you, the table has turned on you

Who are you Chameleon?

The Chameleon addressing the flowers said: Ladies! I am yellow! I am green! I am blue! I am red! I am black! I am white! For everything I am, I am not!

and the Rose said:…then what are you not?

the Chameleon, thoughtful, replied: what I…am

and the Rose said: well if you are not you then…

my stomach has a story

My stomach has a story,

He’s shy, so he tickles my spine,

He tried, but he finally resigned

To his fate;

It’s too late.

My feet have a story to tell;

They walked on the sun.

They’re short so they always run.

My heart has a story to tell.

It pumps bitterness all through my veins.

And fear as it tied up with chains.

And my eyes, well why do I see

If Misery is reality?

I cry just to quench my thirst,

And my mouth has a story

But if it opens then air comes in first,

And my stomach pops,

And my heart stops.

My stomach has a story to tell

You’d cry if you ever felt it

But it’s scenic so it’s probably fitted

…Well, I have a story,

I’m shy, so I cuddle with death

I shiver…I can feel his breath

*Dedicated to the children suffering and dying in Darfur. sign the petition

The most beautiful poem

Baby, last night the most amazing thing happened

It came to me as an epiphany

It was the simplest, most eloquent string of words

That created a melody when spoken aloud

It was the most touching and vivifying sentences

Every verse was a curse

Of deeper truths

Or sweeter lies

Every line was a painting

Every rhyme a living emotion

It was so real I could smell it

Like a fresh breeze

On an early spring morning,

But as I reached for my pen

I noticed that you were sleeping

Your head resting on my chest

You looked so peaceful,

And your embrace was so warm

That I stopped and didn’t bother

And all I could remember

Was that when I looked at you

I thought

“wow!”

Blue rain

They ran like mobs down her cheeks

they ran for days maybe weeks

she rains down rivers through the streets

she cries her pain, her deceits

no, it;s her whole that she weeps

she;ll keep on raining t’ill she sleeps