There's no hope in a mountain of regret
         Yet,
             we keep on climbing
    And piling it higher
                and higher
     Hoping to reach the top
                Knowing all we'll see
    Is the smoke floating
           from bridges we've burned
     And a  t r  a   i   l
                  of mistakes
   Leading to the lessons
             we thought we learned
     But regret has a funny way of sneaking up on you
            Thinking you're in the clear
     Making a run for it
Then smashing right into
       that MOUNTAIN you built out of fear
    Looking back is easier than looking ahead
           Cause there's nothing left to fear
            If you're *already dead...

There in the mirror,
My jaw dropped from the terror
Of what I ' ve become

Like dewdrop seating precariously on the petal of a rose.
Emotions rise and love grows
The path with branches overgrown
Love still remains an uncertain adventure.

Love is as beautiful
As it is hurtful
Like a cake, bitter, sweet and sour
Its taste, the tongue still trying to figure out.

Hurt as it may
In love I chose to stay
What wanton insanity

Pale blue sky
Endlessly tumbling clouds
Sleepy and drowsy sun
Waking young moon
Hush, hush distant frogs’ croaks
Swishy-swoshy, rustle of breeze blowing dry grasses.
Every lives’ moment is a movie.

Plush green fields
Sweet melody of birds chirping
The crunching sound of beach’s white sand underneath our feet
Rush, rush sound of the sea
Whistles of patrolling sea gulls
The thump thump thumping of a heart.
Every lives’ moment is a beautiful song

Red haired dollies
The backyard trees and swings
The childhood crush
The race to meet a tired returning mother.
The humble lamp-lit dinners
The late night tales.
Every lives’ memory is a classic painting

As a clock counts lives’ time
She drips memories, pictures and songs
This beauty untold
Infinite melodies unsung
That only a keen and positive heart can hear.

I'm trading sticks of cigarette for a poem
Bottles of beer for a few more
Whiskeys make me forlorn
Why not a few more poems
So I scribble and scribble some more

I'm trading my loneliness for lines
Rhymed or rhymeless, why should I mind
When the please the eyes and tickles the mind
I sure will memorize and mimic them like a mime
So I'm still scribbling on this torn paper of mine

I'm trading my hearts pain
Trading it for a paper and a pen
Like a painter ready to paint
I deep my petite paint brush in a bowl of paint
Dap dap, little dots, strokes and dashes as I dare to paint
Little by little the whole picture is becoming plain

I'm trading all love's tears
Tears shade in secrecy for a poem shared publicly
Though seemingly absurd but poems brings this inconceivable peace.
So I'm scribbling and scribbling my way to serenity.

I trade it all for a piece of poem
I may not have made the point
But I've washed clean my plough
And starring at this beautiful not-so-beautiful poem
I have read and reread it that it is starting to sound like a song.
Reading one last time, "my best trade ever".

You are either black, white or brown.
Not yet, don't frown at this myopic poem
It's just a momentary flicker of thoughts
Read till its home
Else don't dare judge.

I was saying,
When you look, this is what you may see.
People come in black, white and brown shading
At least, that's what the eyes reveal
So our treatment of each other follow these same shadings;
Black, white and brown.

"Blacks are dubious and evil
Whites are righteous, just a little corny
Browns are drug lords and...... something," don't ask me.

Racial conflict
Each struggling to be distinct
Superiority tussle
Utter show of psychological and mental muscle.
Complexity expunging simplicity
Even the weaver-spider is now entangled in its weaving.

If we will but wear our true and innocent eyes,
Everything we look perfect and right
But we have all lost our minds
Even flat grounds now make  tedious climb.

We are neither blacks, whites nor browns
We are just human beings,
Human beings that are lost
Lost in the refraction of many colours
Same which was designed to make us appreciate each other more.

Now pardon this Radom thoughts
Are we blacks, whites and browns
Or just human beings in different colour shading?

I'm not nice with words
So much they say I'm nurd
I don't care what they may say
I'm too straight to be gay
The eggs are laid
Trying now to lay low
Till it's hatch due day.

The clouds are trickling down
Don't believe me? Go check the lawn
Babies are born with beards
While adults labour for a few strands
Who said wisdom is not sold
Deceptive tale told
Go see the boundless wisdom books hold

The curtains have fallen off
The deception now lays exposed
Like a hen's behind as breeze blew
Nothing is again new
If you've looked round lately you will tell its true
Their falasies lay bare before you

My wife has divorced me
She found out about my affair with poetry.
I could very well plead she forgives
But I doubt if she will
Because this infidelity is one without ending.
Poetry is my only felony
You have no right to judge me
Unless you have tasted the beauty of her beauty
Yet, didn't fall for her tasty meals nor her pleasantries.