This is not silence;
The words that rush through my veins,
erupting into syllables full of venom;
Killing every idleness.
It cannot be a silence;
When I am quacking,
trying to find a fine breathe;
to keep my soul intact.
I am talking, in furious metaphors
at war with my indigenous self
Over words unspoken
And rhymes never heard before
There is no silence
When my numb hand is dragged
Through the tearing paper
Dripping visions of spirits unseen
It a discourse of the mind;
Engulfed in a prison of words.
"Libera Me"
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Monday Morning
Have you felt the dismay?
The seemingly never ending stretch
Of a thread that takes you to work
To labour that never ends
You sit all day, it’s a Monday
And drain your brain
Until you cannot hold back the anticipation
Of a lively Friday afternoon
It’s a drag, taking forever
But you pass the time
Starring on a blank computer screen
But all you see, is a vibey Friday afternoon.
The seemingly never ending stretch
Of a thread that takes you to work
To labour that never ends
You sit all day, it’s a Monday
And drain your brain
Until you cannot hold back the anticipation
Of a lively Friday afternoon
It’s a drag, taking forever
But you pass the time
Starring on a blank computer screen
But all you see, is a vibey Friday afternoon.
Dogs don’t cry
Its wailing voice
It is a rage of fury
Its bark a stark warning
And nobody stops
To listen to a dog cry
Dying to breath
But they say so,
Dogs don’t cry
When it wags its tail,
Who can trust it?
And ease its isolation
But they keep saying,
Dogs don’t cry
They can only bark
In pursuit of a prey
But the dog stuck in the night
Is silently crying
Looking out for salvation
Still they say,
Dogs can never cry.
But perhaps dogs can cry?
It is a rage of fury
Its bark a stark warning
And nobody stops
To listen to a dog cry
Dying to breath
But they say so,
Dogs don’t cry
When it wags its tail,
Who can trust it?
And ease its isolation
But they keep saying,
Dogs don’t cry
They can only bark
In pursuit of a prey
But the dog stuck in the night
Is silently crying
Looking out for salvation
Still they say,
Dogs can never cry.
But perhaps dogs can cry?
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Merry go round
I wish i was like him
who always ride on the upper side
when life toss and turn
like him smell fresh airs
and feel the wind brush my wings
i would escape this prison
of seclusion; always ridding low
no summer smiles in this
my merry go round
who always ride on the upper side
when life toss and turn
like him smell fresh airs
and feel the wind brush my wings
i would escape this prison
of seclusion; always ridding low
no summer smiles in this
my merry go round
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Fear
How have i crowned thee
queen of my life;
that you creep into my every move
You hold me back
when fate demands i move,
into greener pastures
You give me gory nightmares
of thorns in every path
or life full of snares
But when lights go off
and i am laid to rest
you are stripped off my soul
No nightmares, no thorns
snares nowhere to harm
but in your realm
Fear, how did you creep in
into my innocence
and became the definition of my life
how did i crown you queen of my life?
queen of my life;
that you creep into my every move
You hold me back
when fate demands i move,
into greener pastures
You give me gory nightmares
of thorns in every path
or life full of snares
But when lights go off
and i am laid to rest
you are stripped off my soul
No nightmares, no thorns
snares nowhere to harm
but in your realm
Fear, how did you creep in
into my innocence
and became the definition of my life
how did i crown you queen of my life?
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