My raging soul

blazed in wildfire

of you as I flew

to the sun

half-naked in

warm embrace,

pointing the rays

of the gold

at those who will

meander with me

in slice of heaven

spread at my feet.

The wind veers,

the fog hunkers in

as I reach for the age

I’ll someday be,

asleep in the arms

of gun metal night,

seeing a footprint

tucked along coastline

as I ascend into

your moistened eyes

in moon struck goodbyes.

I must tread alone

while loved one rests

in peaceful berth

beneath marble slab

but someday I’ll see

life has not ended -

it has only changed

to an endless truth.

We had talked about it for some time

We could go 

More places to float around in

Spaces to fill

Cold snow, 

Long nights

Waking up now to a feeling that we never left 

Inside there is cold long days and nights

Relief is awarded to those who conquer. Do you concur? 

Truth and the real one never collide

Its a land separated by a river fog

You cant trespass it

Its owned by real master

But master show us love

The closest thing of real truth

Religion is a way to love

And it will give you a key to heaven

The heaven inside your heart

You cant knock with bloody hands

Dont confuse pahala as a coin

Knock heaven with love. Love for humanity.

Because no master didnt love their slave

Who are we other than merely a slave too??

Goodness is double edge blade

But violence is one sharp sword stabbing into your soul

Be humble. Be loving. And forget the heaven.

What the use of it when the master hugs you??

Heaven its me.

A saint who makes people do good.

Under a sword. Under a power.

Under violence.

Heaven its me.

I make people bowing to God.

Being an obedient lamb.

Under fear. Under slithered throat.

Heaven its me. Its me.

Someone who fight for goodness.

Why dont you open the door??

Let me in. I am deserving.

Joe: Hi, I'm Joe. I went out to the cafe to get some fresh air. The tension between my wife and I is rising. All we ever have are shouting matches of who picks up the laundry, who cooks the food tonight, who picks up the children at school. Frankly, we've never had a good sex in years. I tried jerking off at work, but real action is different. I really miss my wife.

Hector: Geez. That white girl on the Internet. She wouldn't even remove her top on Skype and show me her white hot breasts. I didn't even see her cleavage. She looks flat-chested on camera. Too many girls with flat chests, too few big breasts on this planet. She came from the same church where I go, but really? I'm just fakin' it. To get to her heart, or rather, get between her legs. She asked if I really am a man of god. So I told her I wasn't a robot, I have feelings. I am a man, not a robot. So naturally, when I see a beautiful woman, in her birthday suit, I would get hard. That's what I told her.

Eunice: I never want to go to school again. I just want to hide. I didn't even want to go this cafe. My mother just dragged me here last minute, cos you have to be social. You need to socialize to become a normal human being. I wore a long sleeve today, though it's quite hot outside. The air-conditioning of the cafe provides only a temporary relief. I'm glad she (my mother) didn't ask any questions, I didn't have any answers. I cut myself last night, with a blade I bought the other day. I heard the other kids were doing it. I thought it was cool. Then I wondered if they were depressed too.

Three different people, three different stories, cafe customers who have one thing in mind: have coffee at their favorite coffee shop. Unwind. Relax as the soothing bossa nova relieves the tight muscles and wipes off the worry from your face. One hour, three hours, all the anxiety gone. Your problems seem to have vanished. Only for now.

We are people. We carry different stories that make each one of us humans. With feelings, emotions. We are not robots, as Hector the Latino says. Unless we have practiced self-control, we normally operate on impulse. Ego. Pride. But in more nobler human beings, who have an awareness, kindness. Compassion. Love.

Fragmentary.

It's like talking to a scarecrow,

Or-- perhaps-- it's a fairywren,

What happens when you think too much--

Trying to grab everything the river has to offer.

A shattering-- spiraling-- abysmal.

Open the curtains a bit--

Is the light really that much better?

Arrhythmia.

Dies irae, dies illa,

A distinctly remembered bleak December,

Remember'd not once more.

I feel-- I feel-- I think too much;

My mind, o'er mountain-halls,

Will become full, as it were once before,

Hark! how full of scorpions is my mind?

Enough, it would be, to turn me blind enough

To lose what was ours.

Ours? Ourselves?

For this I had doubt,

A (rather) sudden halt upon the moors,

Our Macbeth, remember'd the embers,

As I talked to those ghosts upon the floor,

Remember'd not once more,

Once upon a distinctly remembered bleak December,

Dies irae, dies illa.

Abyss.

This is the forest primeval.

Wait-- breathe, pause;

This-- this is Evangeline.

I assumed you knew; pitch-black, silence.

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts beneath it--

Those hearts? Hit by a train. Try diamonds, whose cuts last far longer--

Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?

Harken! here come those alabaster wraiths of Winter, to which the zephyrs say

Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean.

Dare become the abyss in which you wish to explore.

Violate.

You will have to kill;

There's none quite like it.

You can't say you're free

Then, to be selfish,

Obscene-- you know I

Couldn't, never once ever,

Say yes to those stars;

I must think-- consider--

How to truly shape

Synesthetic light?

How to: touch a light,

One only you can hear?

An answer: to hurt, violate beyond something

Perhaps to be held violet and rye.

Stars.

It's not about reaching for the stars,

It's not about becoming something more,

It's not about the silence.

It's about looking back upon memoirs,

It's about fighting the Erymanthian boar,

It's about keeping your balance,

Defending your asylum.

Stop-- listen.

Sometimes, it's better to be in the pitch black,

Note to self--

Don't let that suicidal cruelty overwhelm you.

Reach for stars you can't see--

Oh-- don't talk to me about a youthful love--

Let that acid strangle you alive,

Let the asphyxiation come.

Yet you can't see that white dove,

Yet you can't see that this is only a test drive,

You already have your unearned income--

Just because you can't see the stars doesn't mean they're not there.

Dark.

Day one dark,

Before long-- none, not one,

Left darkened,

Spirals down,

Keeping-- so much-- to ourselves

Feeling lost, as though by being in

Love, you're forced--

Coerced, into becoming a mental

Heretic;

(ordinary)

Human.

Screams.

Who to know: circumhorizontal arcs

Clouds race across the sky,

Brutally honest or cautiously lie?

Cage the wolf, free

The beast, kill the man, out in

Space, none matter

Across the surface of the

Earth-- screams of those

Lost, fallen, forgotten, with

None but wolves;

Normalize the abnormal, vary

"Truth," or the lack

Of a less than subjective

Appearance; of

Facts perverted towards a

Safety net of sorts,

Where delusion is our home,

Our palace, where

We can touch our comfort and

Lie; where stars can bleed

And colors can scream and shriek,

Little shrikes, little loves

Become smudged against a

Pitch-black, violet

Sky.

Silence.

The dream, the terrible, horrible dream,

A daydream, no less!

Prison break, run o'er stars to cover.

Become trochaic, kaleidoscopic

In your colors; become human

As each separate dying ember wrought ghosts upon the floor,

In every bleak December, in every light upon the moor.

Don't let captured stars escape, don't let dreams fly,

Unless you wish to soar with them.

Let your prose become your silence, your colors your noise,

Let the stars bleed for you, and most of all

Let your comfort bed your lies, apologize

Not for a saturnine jackal or mercurial viper,

But for your note to self.

"I was not a

Stranger of suffering

When I met you.

I had already had

My fair share

Of dilemmas.

But man, oh man,

Pain and promise

Radiated off you

In waves.

I had been the 

Eye of a hurricane

Before, and

How it had hurt.

Everything is frozen

In there, in

The worst way.

How I wanted

To take your hand

And shake the

Pain away, to

Watch the stillness

Flee in the 

Face of motion.

Your eyes would 

Be brighter then.

But you turned

The corner and

Were gone before

I could stop you.

I see you

Once again, so

Many years later.

Your face shines

In the mirror;

Your eyes are radiant.

Past pain outs itself

In the scars around,

But you have

Clothed yourself

In promise fulfilled.

How I long to

Know the story

Of your success.

How I long to 

Know your name.

I can

Greet you now,

As I could not

So long ago.

I have no 

Flight to catch,

And you have

No pain pulling

You away.

I will walk

Up to you

And smile at 

Your well being.

I will introduce

Myself in a murmur.

When we shake

Hands I will

Slip this envelope

Into your breast pocket.

You will look

At me oddly,

But you will

Not jerk away.

I will smile again,

Unable to force

Words forward,

Bow gently and

Walk away.

You will blink,

Perplexed, while

Reaching into your

Pocket to see what

This functioning mute

Has to say.

Then you will learn

That I missed you

Without knowing you,

That I suffer all

Stages of hurricanes

Alone, almost by choice,

But that when

I am in the eye,

I think of you,

Pray for you.

You will learn that

I am glad for you,

Proud of you,

For weathering so well.

You will learn

That I am caught in

A struggle for power

With my vocal chords,

That every day

Is frustrating and that

Some are impossible.

You will learn

That your success

Has given me hope

For mine.

(You had such promise

Behind the pain.)

Lastly, you will know

I am a stranger

To you as you

Are to me, and

We may never

See each other again,

But nevertheless

I want to thank you

For existing.

Thank you

For being a 

Strange solace

In such a

Horrid storm."

clickcheck clickcheck clickcheck nothing yet

Focus on something else

waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaiting timecheck nothingyet has it only been three minutes? thank you time stamps

Focus

nothankyou clickcheckclickcheckclickcheck nothing yet

Ding! One new message 

yay it's time

taptaptaptaptaptap thoughts out across the miles

clickcheckclickcheckclickcheck itbeginsagain

waitingwaitingwaitwaitwaiting whoelsewhatelsewhy whoever whatever whyever, does it matter?

No, it doesn't matter

oh yesyesyesyesyes it does but ohnonononono it shouldn't

Pathetic

Loser

Nothing no one psycho piece of shit pull yourself together

trying?I'mtryingtrying very hard don't you understand?

No one cares that you're trying

No one is going to want you this way

SILENCE

okay.

.

.

clickcheckclickcheckclickcheckclickcheck

Ding!

I tried.

I found my life in the place all lovers know,

where we pause, coming back to ourselves, after being another;

here I found it. 

Wave after wave of limestone river,

in a grey sky, grey air,

homely reeds,

leading down to the beach, 

where dark sand meets a darker sea,

and divulges its secrets. 

Here is the truth; I waited for you there,

but after, I slipped into the water, naked,

'till the cold rose up in my soul.

Let salt carry me away to a distant time,

one where we live in peace,

one where you come to me, on the beach,

and we swim,

never fearing, 

the storm clouds,

awaiting on shore.