Foolish Cycles

We live with the past in our head

Sticks plugged in, to miss silent whispers

Fear driving us to the wall

Just to conform to the movement of others.

Trusting the world

Yet unable to recreate it.

While calls to #HearHim sound

We chose solutions that crown us problems

Playing dumb, when reality stares in front.

Only to recall the armor of peace

When the storms already sink our hope

Taking a loan on salvation.

When we should have banked on it

Burying our debt when the cyclone seize

Only to remember it amid the cyclone eye

Where calm briefs, momentarily before hell returns.

And our minds are switched back to Him again.

While sticks get unplugged to listen

Before we quickly forget once again.

Unforgiving Nights

Let me draw a line in the sand

So it fades when the waves come

Speaking fast to the truth 

I hope to be a lie.

To whoever said it

Knew the oceans within 

Tracking salvation in a voyage of thoughts 

Entangled in un-humble cravings.

Buttoning up shame 

To cover up nakedness

Calling the bedstand to testify 

To the secrets of night shadows.

Sworn misdeeds 

To unholy gardens 

That misspell's the works of hands 

Blooded in silence.

Drunken Nights

Pardon the eye for its greediness.

For in shadows it felt the showers of joy 

busy undress its prey with the care of discovery 

Lost in bonny wonder, deep skinning itself in pleasure.

Twisted in craving persecution 

Sense throw to the dog to care 

The eye played the mind 

Lusting after forbidden kingdoms 

To crown the bone in desire.

Perusing a catalog of regrets 

Unashamed of the cards at hand 

As time entice in a dare 

Now or never again 

Ringing from the darkness of logic.

Heaven In The Middle..

photo by Frank Mckenna @frankiefoto

Lost in a stare tangle

words escaping thoughts volcano

tongue-tied to a proper pronouncement

the sky rocked red

though perfectly clear.

Lost in a stare tango

dared to an eye dance

a million miles per hour heart pound

bad intention filling

undressing - redressing each other

in awkwardness.

lost in a stare tumble

a "hie" slips

shyly to silent reply

off speechless emotions

sprung up on feelings

out of breath whisper, 

"she gotta be mine..."

trailing.

The First Ink to Last

Under a cloud of mystery

Where signs of tomorrow

Seem to tango with the ghost of yesterday.

Breathing

A task for kings and queens.

I!

Being a mere servant

Sipping on imagination

To un-pair these parallel unending thoughts

Where dreams hang upon.

For once,

The pen was the story

Now a demon that hovers

As fear inks the tale

Imprinted on canvasbacks

Where battles of its memorability

Makes a buffoon out of my breath.

Dancing on public tapestry

Where notions,

Dress with knives

And to live:

Is a personal mercy plea

Shrouded in eyes with voices

Loud in their awakening.

Time Collide

 Coming in a full circle

The end has always been

Where it began

Having been created out of clay

Only to return to clay

Crawled to adulthood

Only to return to that phase.

History has always carried the sign

Hating to admit its truth

Stifled our growth 

As it always comes knocking

Yet, in an escapee fashion

Fleeing its presence

Hoping it will fade.

Hard knocking

The truth has always found itself tabled

Confronted by a tale better forgotten

It hammers out our soul

Reality holding vice to our lies

Til! We finally see

And binders are loosened.

Love Spike

 In my defense

I've lost count,

on how

love

Should dress, redress itself.

For I first fell in it

& never came back

When the rivers had dried up

But a piece of me remained.

So!

I tried again

& the same happened again

abandoning me in a complex vibe.

Unready of the outcome

The pit-hole of it

Continuously swallowed me

Alive it refuted

To abandon me.