November 6, 2016 5:34 PM / Leave a comment
- For about 3 decades I’ve fed
- I wonder the uniqueness in a head,
- The singularity of life selfs,
- The indefinably existence,
- Life to me is like real magic…
- An unexplainably beautiful ink
- Painted on the surface of earth.
Like this:
Like Loading...
November 6, 2016 4:37 PM / Leave a comment
- There are lots of fun in the nose of picnics
- It distract us till the bucket has its kicks
- I still can not make out the logics…..
- … Of myself, in me and my soul within
- Or was I told that tick… tick is a lonely inn
- Conceptualized to contribute to its hard fin
- That takes me diving deep into a rivers
- To swim in dry comfort and wet pains..
- To a point I await no motion or rays….
- Indeed I’ve faced the tip of a knife
- In the directions pointing the fingers five
- All are made to individually dance a jive…
- What a confusing complex logics of life
- For I still cannot figureout the model of life
- Fishes even get drown in an ocean of life.
- Do you know life is an endless hole
- Oh we are its vessels and roses are our soul
- Only God knows where exactly it shall go.
- Sad I can not describe the content of a shelf
- Where I rest my head and draw myself…
- When only I and I, can apparently feel myself.
Like this:
Like Loading...
November 1, 2016 3:30 PM / 2 Comments on Melody and I
- Oh o ho o ho o ho… Hold my hand
- O sweet melody from the air, water and sand
- Orchestral of comfort that I’ve always heard
- Long before the smooth rough passage a crying song was sang
- Long before my femur bones grew though and long
- Like a heart, it’s a rare kindness, that of shall I brag
- Don’t change the sound even if she’s lost, she will be found,
- Don’t you know, without her the birds will be dead
- Don’t you know, without her the clouds will go blind?
- I will be damn if the music stops to bang
- I will stay up late all night in a pit I shall dig
- Incase the hummingbirds refuse to sing
- Melodies from the back of my black tougue
- My own sugar fire, tongue of a hot fog
- Making reality from the sounds where fantasies belong…
- Wake up sweet sleeping melodies of peace,
- Would the drummers stay off their sticks
- When the set of drums produce vibrations?
- That is an answer when the flowers shall wither,
- Then I will be damn if it happens while the rain is a singer.
Like this:
Like Loading...
