I don’t want to mask my poetry

I want you to understand me

Curse your perfect rhythms, rhymes, haikus

Your lyricism, your literary

When I try to adopt it, I turn mute.

Something channels through me

(I’ve never really found the root)

A demanding stream of consciousness

That cannot stop to breathe, let alone

Wait, conceptualise, draft, redraft

I can’t!

...

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I had a map when I was young

Nothing special but

I swore it held my fate in

its borders and legends

Tales of what’s to come

So I clenched my fist around it

for if it was never lost,

neither could I be

One day, I found that one map

couldn’t guide me to

every destination

I longed to reach

So I procured another

and another

and another

until ...

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You would be doing me a favor

that I find impossible to gift myself.

Less death since one could say

my soul passed away

a long time ago,

Silently.

Like the serenity I long for.

No, not non-existence,

just

silence.

I scream a cackle into the 

cushions of my sofa

as the irony coats the inside of my mouth.

I must have

deserved

the ranci...

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In script, I chase elusive breath, emotions' subtle pleading,
Such words enfold, deceit swathed in a tender, soft misleading.
To paint the world through poet's lens, the rarest hues I borrow,
In stanzas sail, through mind's vast sea, where verses trade in sorrow.

A tinkerer of syllables, line by measured essence,
Might muse perceive a poet's form, shadowed in your presence?
We waltz beneat...

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Expressions of Love: Part VI

Title: Time

Time flows by
Like the silky fabric
Of her dress
Each ticking second
A slight touch 
Each ticking minute
A flowing twist
Each ticking hour
A small rustle
The fabric of time
Is the fabric of her dress

-Jaxy

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You’re right

3 years ago, I viewed frogs as aliens

Now I wonder whether they’re angels

Months ago, I hated the sound of songbirds

Now I write their songs

I tweet along

Everything I did, I did do

It still was

Even if it no longer is

Whatever I am

I still am what I was

Even if I no longer am

You’re right

I was right and now I’m left

But the person I was hasn...

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09.10.21

I'm not a broken vase 
Not pieces put back together with golden glue 
Not some fragile, broken thing
You can't cut yourself on me anymore. 

You kept trying to hold me together 
To put flowers in me and show me off, so proud 
But I'm not a vase, 
Never was 

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only poetry

can explain my 

coarsened hands made so unsteady

muffled heart beat - louder, heavy

trusting eyes fallen too quickly 

flaring skin

an impish grin

only poetry

and you

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a whiff of caffeine and cologne on your left collar, two cups of decaf 

and half a hug along the plane of our shoulders

       and we took off

with stolen glances at my pendant as red and radiant as the waking sun  

and the mole on the bottom right corner of my cheek, scaled to the size of a period that never surfaced in our conversations 

        our wings welcomed the wind li...

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Your skin like the yellow brick road,

and what is it that creates that rush of blush?

I’d love to shovel out your flesh or drill through your cheeks

to reach those autumn leaves,

that grow behind the golden weeds,

the red leaves that were never green.

No, never new, they never grew,

they stayed and they remained:

Dying, but never dead,

thriving, behind your face of ...

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Have you seen her eyes?

Like searching grass stains

Reaching, reaching up the bark

Of her rough touch, rough hands.

Legs like hay, the hairs like needles,

Could lose thoughts in them, do you understand?

Oh, have you seen her eyes?!

Like dancing lily pads,

I once tried to catch them in the lake.

Silly mistake, oh big mistake

Because she can be a swamp,

Her pull like...

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