There are times I sit with pen in hand,
staring into the blank heart of the unmarked page,
as if it were a pond and I—a boy with no fish to show.

Words won’t come, as stubborn as a mule,
having wandered off to some far corner of the farm.
I am left with the rustle of the wind,
the idle chatter of the keyboard ticking time away.

Yes, in an old-world style I toy with rhymes,
abab or some...

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Disappointed myself as usual 

Appointments I can't seem to attend.

Achievements I failed to achieve on my own

Important concepts were out of my reach.

Practise what you preach, I will do that but some other time.

Hypocrisy is a philosophy I need to look into,

Lately, it doesn't feel authentic.

Latent learning seems to be idealistic.

Pointing fingers while three of them poin...

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direct your gaze skyward.

I see your eyes slip through

lens and the light shoot down,

orbit in your twitching

left to right,

left to right

panning light in soft night,

oxymoron of telescope

gathers perception -your feet-

fall here and your stare there

pinned to the pit of ground,

grate your phrase from fireplace.

and divide.

put syllables in pen,

cross out...

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