Today I sleepA slumber so deep,I might not wake up tomorrow,While the world I keepWouldn’t care to peepInto the foreboding of my sorrow. Might I lie,If fine am I,It is the knell that peals yonder,That brings nighA will to dieTo end my ceaseless wander. Some
There is a villain in my house, He has murdered conscience And hid its body in the attic. He steals right under my nose, Honest money and truthful notes, And saves malice for those Who try to race him to the finish line. He eats
I wish my life could be as erratic as Charles Bukowski changed jobs in Factotum. To be able to quit apathy as it gnaws upon my soul. How magnificent life would be then! To be able to do anything, absolutely anything just for the heck
Woke up one day To find me dead; It didn’t make a difference. I climbed out my bed, And walked a mile To find no one, But were they ever there? Not a soul lurked, Not a car stirred, The traffic of dopey minds Was
Where does all my verve go When I am already on a journey? Why does it not carry in me? The zeal to be riding a new horse, All along the bumps and humps Thrown my way; That’s how every life has been paved. Why
I feel your searing eyes Piercing me, Making me Shift in my edgy seat, Twitch in this ugly heat, What are you thinking Behind that crazy skull? I ain’t that dull, I am trying to keep up With your brutal signs, You are defying Me
Waking up in your time, I am the night! I see what calls you – A light from the sky, And you walk out like moths To a brimming sunshine; All that glare hides promises Of a bright future That you could make In your
People fall in, They fall out, And yet they never learn That falling in Is supposed to give butterflies, While falling out, ashes. And that’s all there is to it – A series of falling in and out, Of broken hearts and reconciliations, Of tamed
I fulfill promises I made to myself, You think I fiddle with my toys Trying to live my toy stories? Even if I might be in one, I care for none; I don’t care when you fail to see What I see, It’s not my
City lights, You have drowned all my stars! Can I hate you more for Painting over my canvas? The quiet time of the lovers, Who used to prod for answers in the vast Had a world to explore; You have smeared it with your din.