The distorted reflections of hopes
turn golden with an air of dope
through each line I inscribe
on the face my life, alive
through sickness
and by darkness.

i look within the mirror     (things are not looking good)
a mind of a man;  a soul of    a woman:  when my dreams
stretch out love surrenders.    
My body, savaged by pain   (i am as a peasant)
undermines Love.
  -- makes romantic spirits
leap into the bottom of a
deep chasm of Earth.
   The soul can never get old    a marching army of night
invaded me as a weapon; but as i breath i repel
the hordes with my heat
i sought a woman so strong
,      intelligent and soft: a body of skin, of fire,
of firm and thirsty milk!    
i hold her bountiful *******  ! and hug warm and womanhood.
   still i feel i am sinking:
   so now you know.  my thirst  and desire for woman without
end -- a wavering tight road!
   so now.  I know there are cemeteries so lonely, for my kind.  
   Dead bones that do not move.  but all dead and
   living hearts move through a tunnel!

:: 09.09.2020 ::

My autumn-hair grows grey, my eyes are tired,
The dawn is far away from me. I'm not the same,
And not the one who I sometime desired;
I just can only remember my name.
Time does pass by so quickly, and I try
To grasp the moments with my writing mind,
But still, most things of fleeting life pass by
As if it's nothing, not mend to be found.
And so, if past and future is unknown,
I'll focus on the moment of the present:
A bed, fresh air, the morning-sun now shown,
And lulled to sleep by every flower scent.
This is the ideal life I'm always seeking;
"Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."

I’m older if not wiser
Can’t *** like a geyser
And I think I can hear the bells toll.

They’re a little less distant
And a bit more insistent
And no longer seem quite as droll.

Out the corner of my eye
I think to espy
A dark figure with malevolent intent.

A voice with a tone
Like the scraping of bone
that leaves me whining and spent.

Is it getting closer?
Is it there in the toaster?
I worry perhaps more than I should.

But I’d be lying
There is no denying
I wish now that I’d done more good.

I don't need your arms to hold me,
your blank stares to reel me in.
You can keep your twisted maze of lies,
the end where I begin.
I must forge my chosen path,
it only leads one way.
And shall I cross you wandering,
I'll lead you far away.
You have no place inside my home,
you must go find your own.
I'll show you to my soul's front door,
and reclaim my proper throne.

Hope cannot save what’s forgotten with age
As the moonlight clandestinely shines.
Pieces of souls, washed up on the shores
Laughing gleefully at the passing of time

Abandoned dreams sink beneath the sand
On which fateful footsteps once tread
Years rage on, crashing silently on rocks
Where despair and weakness once led.

Reflections of love rise up from the deep
With the promise of daylights return
Passionate waves. caress the shore
As the darkness ebbs and turns

Blue skies replace the vacuum above
As your eyes fill up all that I know
Future fulfilled in the sea of my heart
As the banks of my joy overflow

Voices of people giving unsolicited advices on how to live my life echo loudly as I make my way to the end of the tunnel; and yet, no light has been found, rather, the voices become deafening as I continue my journey.

I look around in the pitch black tunnel, the earsplitting noises continue, making me feel apprehensive. The thought of the unknown scares me and I care too much so I listen to these blaring voices, booming with every stride I make.

I stop walking, as if these thundering voices weren’t enough to make me anxious, I feel many pairs of eyes glaring at me in this blinding darkness, secretly amused by my feeble state.

Am I still far?
Will I reach it?
Will I make it out alive?
Will I bump into someone — anyone — who has a map and a flashlight to share?

I quiver as I cross my arms and continue walking, hoping that I would soon see the light at the end of what seems to be a never ending tunnel.