Fight, fight, fight
To sight I’m the absence of light
3-D glasses in the home theatre, reclined
Watching Passion of the Christ
And on a Samsung tablet you type
Painting a rosy picture on Facebook
In the midst of thinking “fuck my life”
*
Alone on an island
There’s peace
A newcomer arrives
Now there’s potential for violence
Thorns of a rose with the pedals of a violet
Head in the clouds – a terrestrial pilot
No accolades – yet – I walk into the room convinced I’m the brightest
*
All is what I think I deserve
Don’t ask me why
The feeling’s intuitive
So if you think otherwise…
To me that’s counterintuitve
*
Some might rightly say
I put the lewd in ludicrious
“You’re so silly”
…
“Oh shit, he’s serious”
…
“Surprise! I’m only kidding”
…
“Oh shit, the guy’s delirious”
…
I’m the alleycat who killed George
Even tho I too was curious
*
I am alone like a wolf, a romantically sarcastic, rash and drastic, outcasted wolf
In America I am a low-class wolf
In India I would be a low-caste wolf
Feeling closer to a dog
Feeling closer to a canine
Growling by a window
Crecendo – WOOF!
Till from afar I spot a fine figure by herself
Pending on her face…
My mind, based on her shape, tells my eyes to view her as a mate
Approaching with a comment I assured myself was pertinent
Beautiful face –
I conversate and fascinate myself
With how freely I relate
Can’t wait to recall each word I say
I think she wants to fuck, no, I think she wants to wait
Us humans civilized
Must disguise lust
And go through the motions of the ritual called “a date”
At the end of the day – PRIMATE
*
Look
If this be the kitchen
I must be the master chef
You can’t even boil an egg
So look,
I’m the only cook
In a league of my own
Thus, I am the best
Lest, anybody care to contest
Look, a cook, a goddamn cook
Say, how vivid are your words?
If it’s sexy then we look
My words become Braille
To the hand that takes a page from my book
All Eyez On Me – The Attention Crook
Just a peek, you say
Well, that’s quite a long look
*
I’m alone like Jose a.k.a letthewordsplay
My favorite term of endearment is babe
I never used the word “bay”
I like my sky grey with a chance of rain
Let divine tears trickle on us sadly(!) and return as drops of joy from where they came
The fall of water and its rise
Naturally explained is instead of super plain
The scientific mind is arcane
In a lab specific neurons were discovered that induce the feeling of what we denote as shame
Angels travel nonchalantly to the deepest depths of Hell where they re-up on top-notch fire ass cocaine
Everyone who is alive, listen up – at the same time let’s point a finger to the sky and cast the blame
*
So like I said,
I like my sky grey with a chance of rain
I’m king of a kingdom, you’d be wise not to claim
The Kingdom of Pain
In that domain it’s beyond chance I reign
*
Sulking like a trickster who in Hell became a joker
Your expertise, you honed to the highest of degrees
Tho when shown to me it’s dismissed as mediocre
Well-dressed men
Invite me, a nudist
To a table where stripping is the cost of playing poker
My actual greatest sin
Was being born sober
*
Mapping out
A rout
Had I not been born a mute I would’ve been a motor
Mouth
I know all about the world
From the comfort of my couch
Don’t act surprised!
If I know exactly what you’re talking about
*
Many outlets of the news, let out what accrues to common knowledge
Facts overshadowed by a cloud of fiction – Doubt
I look around and notice
Shout “Holy shit”
Thou be too foul to utter “Holy cow”
Nobody is not a journalist now
Living a life in which one is scarcely wowed
All I know is opiates
WTF is “ouch”
*
I am who I am
But can come across in ways exceeding plethora
Birth certificates should bear names followed by etc. i.e. etcetera
I became a snob
The day I found out I was God
My peers I treat like 50
When he jotted “How To Rob”
Cruising on a first date
First track I play you hear say
“Slob on my knob”
We both peer at my lap
As we hear “corn on the cob”
To live the dream
Is to work a hobby as your job…
Preferably a lucrative job
*
I go the extra mile
And I never ask the question
Is this worth while
That feeling of fakeness
When someone looks at you expecting you to
Smile
Don’t comply
No revenge for a cyclops
An eye for an eye
Each person, I see
On TV, on the street
Will die a death (no shit) meet a death and die unique
When I die
No one will be able to match the way I leave
Till then I will smoke weed
And be on speed
*
The moral of the story?
Deem me as you please, I can still fulfill your needs
I am poetic, elite