Mirroring a Shade

People to me feel like shades,
They come and go by sun's blink,
At last it seems they never were,
Each step, monotonous, echoing.
The sound is piercing through me.
Like a knife, dicing the onion and carrot.
But then this knife drops, your heart jumps,
Are you wounded? Did the blade catch your feet?
If so, no longer be able walk nor stay,
If not, speak nothing more of it. None.
The monotonous steps are just like that knife,
Soothing when acting on something. Stairs.
Platform. Forget the park. Beach. No.
I told myself I'll only stand twice.
And though I can move freely, I remain. On the bench.
Witnessing countless posterity walking by,
All the steps of the first more flat.
Why? Are we growing sharper in tone, in thought?
So grow yea sharp every drop bleeds ears!
Eat silence, foul mind! Hence I am here sat.
To no end at all, am I sat looking over the platform.
None can see me, nor feel my touch. Nor hear.
Well, fuck them. These are the people moving by me.
Let it then, they stand and I'm shifting back,
And all the stones bite my wind with luck,
They became one with the wind. As that child is.
The car is undone to metal, all armour me shine,
To no end at all, my bench is carrying me,
To no end at all, I didn't care nor how I should do.
That's the pill of remedy. Not caring.
That was the song of the small pebble,
It hit me very well that. My head hit, full stop.
Then I saw the memory once again,
It never left, it was simply a reality frozen.
Hence these shades are no more.


That's when I met her,
On the ocean floor,
Crystal light spelt better,
A new gay door,
The times in jest bar swim,
What desire is told,
Along the reefs light is dim,
Still I walk and mould.

Slings, Jokes, others

Prince, sulk beneath a hooded light,
When I say this joke however mean,
I truly do mean in stronger word,
That we’ll in charms have seen,
A misery a soul equipped to laugh,
Yet he would not in sight bestow;
A joke remains so, unseen, unheard;
Like a key, poking that dark hole,
Poking and turning, nudge and feel;
Resistance borne from persistence none,
He’ll let me in and then joke is none,
How sweet is the irony, the cheers!
Unlock when no lock is nigh;
But, no, sanity is my weakest noun,
Indeed, as you have said, I am most sane.
The most angelic and free, a God-enduring,
I forbid all evil mine eyes cross,
I kiss the cross, the Qur’an, the scrolls!
Throw yourself into a sea of words God
Pronounces so vividly for y’endure!
That storm of pages strikes so wound a chasm,
Now is knowing no more, thinking raptured part,
Tis this irony that I speak of,
Tis comedy till no laugh is sought no more,
Though this we call a world, given birth a reason
Makes devoid of laughter at all things wry,
And still the comedic tale remains!
The stage remains open. The curtains fall, yes;
But the act continues. On the streets, at sea. Well?

Unfortunately, he was sectioned soon after.

Smoke on glass

A way was shut,
A glass was filled,
The red so pure,
Who knew would last,
A smoke so fine,
A vape so lit,
The wine that begged,
A glass how big,
So more it tastes,
The smoke it vapes,
The blow that pours,
A glass that holds,
The hand that seals,
The force ere shown,
New life be had.

Craft me a sea

Then sat down the moon yonder,
I’m looking away whilst he writes,
He’s looking at me whilst I sing,
I’m winning the hearts again;
My love is asking for my hand,
He’s asking for the way to write,
He’s loving a way through my ears,
I’m seeking a hand to guide me,
I’m looking away for the way here,
Take me from the moon to the stars,
The stars call me hither, hither;
Inhaling the stars there’s a sign,
There’s a pattern that reads:
Beauty is only the beginning in life;

Hill spotting

I paint myself a picture leaping,
Sooner the brush strokes rushed,
They were crusted from disuse,
All was tired lest never they muse,
Suddenly I saw myself leaping,
The painting was walking with me,
I tipped the paint over to see,
I drew myself a world to see,
The skies: I painted them yellow,
The grass is blue, I’m red,
I’m also a person. I like that.