Hollow

a burning day of blunt
walking along with a chant
wishing she'll be summon
until 12 midnight you still hang on

struggle you must but pain in gust
promises you treasure, gone in a blast
every images of her get in sight
touched and clung her yet she's not, you wish you were right

longing her every night
hugging pillows with your might
tears dripping to your pale cheeks
unnoticed you were in bleeds

reminiscing the pass in a flashbacks
heart beats fast, hoping it could turn back
countless days,searching for tracks
yearning both of you still intact

a single day craving you'll be in death
for you being with her is your breath
now your heart aches in depth
enduring those pain until you'll be dead

when it comes the day of sorrow
you see your self heartless one
happiness are thrown together with your love one
until you see name on a coffin of hollow heart

Speechless

I was in a big mistake,
That I believe in love which is fake.
I don’t know what His plan is,
But now I’m inspired with a new man.
He taught me to analyze,
That my past was only a disguise.
Neither a dream nor a fantasy,
A way from an enchanted journey.
From the time I’d wait for my past to come back,
He captures my destiny and get into a lock.
Even though I don’t know him,
But he is like a song in my silent dream.
Now I am pretty sure,
That he can color my unclear future.
But I will not let myself love him in a catch,
‘Coz I don’t know if he can love me very much.

Kiss Me Through The Phone

a hectic scheduled day
toxic game for play
craving it'll be vanish in one sway
exhausted just to earn the payday

eyes keep glancing
at the wall freezing
and hears the ticking
must be 5pm and we're going

i must be programed to text
motions to hold fast reflexes
fingertips tik-tak encoding
white collar shifts done, just you and me for lovin'

reminiscing the past hour
work are like power pour
yet with my love all it regains
missing the parts you still remains

casting the magic word
i love you, but it seems blurred
wanting to hug you, i cant with phone thingy
hold your hands till i shut my teary eyes

what can i do we are miles apart
loving like this, excruciating pain for our part
i know will never be fall apart
just one text away you and me touches our heart

wishing i can kissed you
say the words i love you
in one text or call---
but how, i dont have a phone to call you

Poet's Joy

Coffee break, is not really my choice,
But since the day I conquer existence.
I rejected all that pains and laments,
Sufferings and ideals which are pointless.

As I give readers some amusement,
draw them close to my own nature’s pull.
Feed them with full of enchantment,
and indulgence from a purple passionate.

Knowing that all the arts,
Are to entertain but not to chisel.
The fanatic’s fragile hearts,
Can tolerate them some kicks to revel.

Be a poet-doctor, who can alleviate,
An ailing spirit with sweet sonnet,
Limerick and term are all attractive,
but not with a tear, down to the window of dark.

I slightly prefer bitter reality,
than for a permanent therapy,
to aesthetic morphine to be calm,
intended for them to see the real me.

He is I… Art is I

He is a Painter who portrays one’s timeless majesty
His works passed to generations, preserving memory
From my quill drops words to parchments, witness of history
A medium of conserving culture of humanity

He’s a Butler who keeps the dwelling ambiance
He’ll put the coffee unto cup down to your sense
Unto the phrases I convey my emotion
It’s like potion; it would lead you to compassion

To catch the copious gist of the scene is his profession
He’s a Film Maker, enclosed in the frame is his passion
Open your window I’ll take you beyond imagination
My story shall be a port key to any dimension

He is a Gardener who plows the landscape
Keep plants fertilized to sustain bestow for banquet
Let my words be heard so that you may be feed
From verses of my epistle pursue the good deeds

By any means, he molds certain raw material
From a touch of the Sculpture all juveniles enhanced
Unto my reader I inculcate upright morals
My words may turn to knife if it’s hard to chastise

I am a Poet, born in the name of Art
In event I have to meet the Maker of Art
So be it, I have lived fulfilled in the world of Art
If given a chance to reincarnate, I’d still be a Soldier of Art

the so called poet

it is what it is

the poet that can't write

what he see or hear

he could only feel

under the purple sky

just don't ask him why

he's doing it?

cause he only knows one thing

that will blow their mind

and turn them blind

he said

while drinking coffee

If you could only see What I feel

then tell me this aint real

this pain hiding inside of me


If I could throw this out of my window

then I wouldn't be the wierdo anymore....

Poet of the New Age

Supreme Human Being, Yes I Am!
My shield and my sword, is a pad and a pen
The window of my soul is deeper than the abyss
Flim-flammin' every word, and I'm lyric'ly obese

Sippin' gallons of coffee, until the break of dawn
Never let myself being used, but i'm a deadly pawn
I can draw morphological events from my head
Like a purple fog and smoke, causing coma in a bed

I can joggle all the rhymes, like a circus freak
Connecting puzzle dots, like that kid on the street
Sculptured thoughts unleashed when I wave my hand
Like a sorcerer's inditing his inked magical wand

I'll move your emotions like a puppet master
Your sanity lies beyond my piece of paper
Where my stories, poems & prose were written
Lay down a beat, groove and shimmy to it's rhythm

Poet of the New Age, Yes I Am!
Livin' in the world of good and bad realms
Hustlin' all my life ne'er ask for any alms
Holdin' on my faith, readin' bible & singin' psalms