I Will Not Be Silenced.

The urging of a friend,

The hanging promise,

The gentle nudge turn persistent tugs.

Yes, my soul cries out in agony,

At myself, the tyranny.

Belittling, defeating,

invisible locks imprisoning.

Still, she defies the throne,

To shake the slumber,

Her whisper echoes the sound of thunder.

Yes, my fears remain,

Though I will not abstain,

This slow awakening,

For there's much to gain.

Love

Drink your way.

The air heavy, bloated, seeking escape.
Shallow breathes thirsty for yesterdays.
Where every whistle of the wind carries a whiff of putrid flesh.
Lungs soak in residual 8% content.
A cocktail of brews in every ray, in every sleep,
on every baking ground.

Make Light.

Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot.
-Charlie Chaplin

* * *

Remove the laughing track,
It thieves, it steals from the cold hard facts.

The Man on The Bench.

I know that feeling all too well.

The man,
He clutches his sides in agony.
The wind, his body orchestrates a bereaved harmony,
His eyes they turn to the clear blue skies,
solace he pleas, but they're deaf to his cries.

Courage I gathered,
A footstep too soon I faltered,
Our eyes as they meet,
My heart begins to weep.

I bow my head, eyes to my feet,
I hurried on by.
Perhaps I was his answer,
but to this stranger I was shy.

An Education.

The Story of My Summer.

Lesson 1:

Family as I count,
More numerous than thought,
Vanishing blood distinctions,
Bound by past, present and future collisions.

Lesson 2:

A commitment.
Emotions obligate,
To walk, to run, to work out together our fates

Lesson 3:

Hands that are dealt,
Play with intelligence and stealth

Lesson 4:

Independence as much as we strive,
Accomplishments to feed our burgeoning pride,
The fall from world's grace we slave to stave,
All counts as lost at the grave.

Its eating me alive.

Never wear heart on sleeve,
Odds against, why risk the tease.

The Tumultous Soul.

Craves for distraction.

Escapism screams for attention,
The tow lines tug, exerting tension,
With bruises, burns,multiple lesions,
She bows and caves into the unmentioned.

You're Breaking Up.

Huh? What? Could you repeat that?
********************************

Disconnected.
Incapacitated.
Opposed.

********************************
Boundaries of present, imagination, building,
Stricken, sickened, exposed, barren.

dimes for rhymes.

you know how they say,
'a penny for your thoughts'

i thought i'll be somewhat 'original',
by introducing 'dimes for rhymes'.

~~~
Its been a while, but I'm happy I've swung right back into it.

fickle/then & now

sometimes you want,you choose to run,
as fast,
as far,
as, you can.

now,
ahead of the pack,
victorious,
adrenaline magnifying the experience.

then,
settled,
what stirred, now familiar,
now routine, later strange.

once snug,
now stretched,
the color fades, it wears thin,
a bad fit afterall?

in her shoes.

Pressed for time,
She succumbs to crime,
She steals, he squeals,
His partner reels.

Again forgotten,
She concedes,
Stays in, she reads,
On others fantasies she feeds.

Today,
Her used by date,
She meets her fate.
Before the hour,
She yells, 'females to power'.

~~~~
Judge if you must,
But its you whom I trust.

if.

I was home,

I would have just risen,
In shorts,
holding on to the rails, kicking loose the fragile pieces,
Ageless china, red chopsticks,
My bottom on cold marble,
I savagely toss the contents of wheat and meat,
attacking every morsel.
Drew Carey 'tings' and Brady taps.
Not one to lose, I humbly attack today's media clowns,
burst of flavour and pods of seeds swirling on an inflamed tongue,
The greedy esophagus monster gleefully awating the smooth translucent sheet,
Cheecheongfun.

Instead,

Two hours too early,
Having been stirred by the bitter cold,
Hood over head,
I stumble from under my sheets,
Cursing the weather.
Project Runway plays,
The constant continous whirr of heat,
droning the voices of gay men and the *cough fashion forward,
A peanut butter jelly sandwich, a hot cuppa.
I run back to bed, shivering under the doona,

Blocking out what it is to be.

I don't know what I'm doing here.
Clearly, I don't belong.