Saturday, April 25, 2015

A good feeling

I don't want much
Just a feather touch
Of your fingers
On mine
Cheesy
Not so easy
But its ok to want
Its ok to be
Under the clouds
And screens
Showing us
What we
Want to see
Like finding
Dinosaur's head
A baby's bed
A half eaten
Piece
Of bread
Or dragons
Wagons
With horses
And other
Pretty things
Its ok to want
Its a good feeling.

Living being

Birth life and death
Are the same for
Everyone
Every being
Every thought
Every image
Every person
Every relationship
Every laugh
Every tear
Its in acceptance
Of it
The process
The nature
The beauty
Of it all
When we
Do away
With reliability
With dependability
With expectancy
With looking forward to
Living being
We are living being
Living beings
Talked so casually
About
You are a being
Which is inside
An insight
To you
Not your mind
Not your body
Not your love
Hatred
Hope
Depression
Success
Guilt
Irritability
Or any of
Them
Many of them
Together
Just being
In the moment
And humans
Are lucky
To be able
To be
The way
They are
Just being
You know
Human being.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Prostitutes

I don't like 
comparing
but now that you
have
let me begin

I see these
so called
men with
rationality
with egos
harder 
than their 
hard ons

impotent
unjust
unworthy
swinging
between their dreams
teaching others
preaching others
ridiculing mothers
calling others
prostitutes
as if 
prostitutes
are not people
not beings
but 
dirt
(that they often dream of)
and for
some reason
some funny reason
their 
own will 
wisdom
has turned to 
treason
for they cant see
the rationality
prostitutes have
the level of acceptance
the level of pain
they have conquered

they keep 
telling me
to focus 
on the wants
to focus on the
goals
not what
you don't want
good
thanks
thank you
for that freedom
but wait 
you turn around
and slap me
with your
impotence
while
you blow
the corporate 
day in
day out
playing with 
their balls
made of
measurable
freedom
but only to
a certain limit

a certain limit?
are you for real?
you fuckin unpolished
shoe's heal
of the one sitting
on top
of your corporate
food chain
and you talk of freedom?

and poets
are not paid well
and poems
do not sell well
just b'coz
you can't measure
such depths
with your
dirty
little circle 
of paper exchanging
hearts and dreams
my poems aren't 
worth
your fuckin paper money 
they are worth
the paper they exist on
worth the hearts 
they heal
and if my poetry 
can not feed me
id rather die hungry
for my soul feeds
on feelings
on patterns
on love
and if you cant exchange that
for the same
then fuck you
i'd rather die hungry. 

Titled tornadoes

winds from
one dimension
fire from
another
water from
the thoughts within
earth
from another
brothers
of stones
and grains
and strains 
of you
and me
jump
laugh
move
excite
waves
from the sea
whales from
the sea
are swimming
right now
looking for 
another
some bird just
formed a nest somewhere
a caterpillar died
a bee fed
it's queen bee
a carcass
just dried
a star just smashed
into another
earth rotates
still
waters crashing 
On the rocks
On the rocks
a whiskey please
buying drinks
that guy 
for her
expecting love
in exchange 
of some whiskey
whiskey
isn't his
neither is the body
nor the love
he's still trying hard
he is still hard
she is shy
the wales swimming
stars crashing
cars crashing
lets get out of here
she says
he won
what did he win
or did she?
the whales in the sea
are swimming
this very second
someone just poured
some wine
with tears dripping down
with laughter
with cheers screaming out
a dream got
fulfilled today
a master just died
the whales in the sea
and the honey bees
swimming
in dimensions
of their own
why tornadoes? 
you know what i'm 
saying
and here is you
with your eyes
on this
very dot
.
now.  



Waking up.

He kept twisting and turning in his bed. The thought of her gave hive him this painful sensation between his chest. He was in between sweating and feeling cold. It was around 3 am. 'Why am I even alive?' He asked himself. He couldn't understand why it was important to love, important to express his emotions at all. Why couldn't everyone just be happy?  Why couldn't he feel her hands underneath the bedsheets he wore? Why was it so important to feel? Why was it important to experience?  What was importance after all?  And soon the morning skies blushed for him and he frowned upon them.

It was a Wednesday, and to think of sitting in front of the desk and bear those people again just because he had to, wasn't very appetizing.  He had dreams of big cars and big houses. He had dreams of a better girl he had fallen for. His dream girl was in every girl he met, a little of her hair in one, the eyes in the other, the voice, the lips, the brains, almost as if his mind was scattered all over in women he met, didn't meet and those that he wished for.  The question was about playing with standards of himself. Setting them, breaking them, rising above and falling below.  He switched his tap on to wash his face; to wake up to real and tangible reality for that moment to the next and if anyone asked he would say he is happy in life. Such intimate boredom. 

Thursday, April 16, 2015

First time

Its
The first
Time
I have
Acknowledged
The kiss
Of
The first
Sunlight
Surfacing
Momentarily
Unconditional
Feeling
The
Distance
On
My skin
The one
It traveled
For
Me

Its
The first
Time
I have felt
The autopiloted
Lungs
Making
Me feel
Alive
With
Its strange
Sensation

Its
The first
Time
I have
Heard
The sounds
The vibes
Being able
To hear
Is such
A miracle
Right
Now

Its
The first
Time
I have
Touched
My face
To touch
My face
For
The first
Time

Its the
First time
I have
Felt
Everything
Through
Senses
Undiscovered
A feeling
Beyond
A physical
Contact
A happening
A symphony
The never-ending
Symphony
And you
Are Just
An instrument
Meaningless
Like the sun
Like your smile
Like the planets
Like the dew
Like the honey
Like the snow
Or the rain
Or
The river's
Flow
For meanings
Are limited
To our minds
To blind
Us from
The true
The real
All the time.

Happy feet

Look
The feet
Have traveled
Far
And its
Only
A fresh
New start
Here and
Now
Be assured
The feet
Will walk
Till the very
Start
Of endings
Of the limited
Time
Where you
Will walk
With your
Hands
In mine
Distance is
But a thought
Your feet
Believe
Not
Just walk
They instead
Feel the distance
Feel the heat
Feel resistance
Feel tired
Feel revoked
Feel content
Rest assured
Tingling after
Evening bath
Soft and nice
For a fresh
New start
Let me hold
Let me bless
While you
Sleep
Taking rest
Let me see
And adore
Such pretty
Feet
After all.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Beyond

All ends are
To begin
All beginnings
Are to end
It all magnets
To the vibe
We send
Rules
All broken
Passions
End in
Tears
Happiness'
Mortality
Is held
By our fears
And now
Is the moment
In the
Measurable
Time
When
Measurable
You
Can be
Measurably
Mine
Beyond
All the
Leaves
And beyond
All the trees
Beyond
All butterflies
And beyond
All bees
Beyond
This time
Beyond
When we
Are free
Beyond
What you
Hurt
And beyond
What you
Heal
Beyond
All your luck
Beyond
All your
Unfinished
Breeze
Is how
Calm
You can
Ever
Be
And you
Can only be
For these
Eyes
Are too small
For all
Of it
To see
What would
You have
Done
To have
Known
Everything
You'd
Have
Split
Yourself
In you
Split yourself
In me
Split
Yourself
Into
Flowers
Split
In its
Seed
But hey
You
Know
What?
Look around
Well done
Bro
Well done.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

This business

I can see
Me
On the surface
Of the
River
Which
Flows
Silently
Like time

My image
Once
Leaves
The surface
Of the river
Scattering
Perception
Light
Colours
Vibes
And
By the time
It touches
The surface
Of my
Eyes
Transferring
Thought
Emotion
Feeling
Wonder
Pride
Ego
Wonder
Vibes
The surface
Of my eyes
Feels impotent
Unimportant
Coz
It couldn't
Show me
What had
To be seen
For my
Mind
Minds
This business. 

Feelingful.

To the noise
In the body
To the pressure
Behind
The neck
To this
Screeching
Preaching
Comfortably
Abused
Not cared
For
Not prayed
For
Not made
For
Not staying
For
Not lying
To
Not trying
To
Not being
With
Not seeing
Through
This mortality
Now rated
Higher
Than what
We need
Our
Souls
For
What you
Feed your
Souls with
How you
Hear
The soul's
Call
Follow
Wallow
Smell
Swallow
Stop and smell the roses

Stop

This moment

Is

What is.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Water the weed

A dream
Is
Essentially
A perception

A dream
Is made
Of glimpses

Those micro
Seconds
When
You are not
Your body
Or mind
You are but
A process
A happening
A transformation
The continuous
Transformation
Now showing off
In glimpses
The web
Of energy seems
To be smiling

Those glimpses
Are of
Vibrations
You've turned
Into

A dream
Is what is
The manifestation
Of Your fears
And love
And memories

It is an expression
By yourself
To yourself
From your self

And if we
Still resist
Those dreams
Persist
In limbos
In loops
In daily life
Almost as if
Perfected
To be living
In a certain way.

Do not resist
And save
Your perception
Some beautiful time
To be spent with
Her lover
Her love
Just her love
For love doesn't
Happen
With a person
It only happens
For a perception
A thought
A creation of oneself
A way to divide
And when
You are looking
For the smiles
In your lovers face
Its because you
Love the lovers
Face
Being proud
Of your loved
Ones
Means being
Proud of the
Choices
You've made

A dream
Is the seed
Of
The reality

Water the weed too
Water it well.