Friday, March 5, 2010



I was taught lot of nonsense
By my father,
Never was I taught, how I should fail.
So I ensue, ensue rather.
My father used to hold my mind
With piece of broken summer
I ponder, I ponder, and I roam.

Every second above hours I plead.
Teach me how I should fail,
And tie my thought
With slight lion tail.
But I was taught lot of nonsense
By my father,
I was not taught how I should fail.


Men progresses are slow processes.
Those perfect and lasting paragon,
You desire to coat thyself, is me.
I have useful the useless,
I am home to the homeless.
Say me no feeble word,
I am that I am, I am God.

My perceptions are far from intellectual,
In me you fetch no strife.
I be no physical but spiritual,
So I alter power and life.
Draw to me, I shield and tend.
You window shall scene my outcome,
It will never see my end.


The sound of a friend
Is one sunshine hath
Tried to bargain with.
It cannot be echoed,
Neither can it
It be sold.
Blind it be
At dawn
Not as birds
Of the night.

I have paint myself
The true colour of love.
It’s not white,
Or brown.
It’s many a colour
Out of town,
But can be seen
Painted on God’s crown.

This sound of my friend
Is flying.
Very much
Like sighing.
It’s my Dickinson
Decades indoor we stay,
All through the
Travelling night
With windows green
Of heavenly delight.

Daisy and crimsome rose
Be fade.
The moon,
A sibling to
The breating shade
As echo and tranquil refrain.

The sound of a friend is welcomed,
Kissing Jupiter,
Asphodel and earth
Fetching memories
Of lost and
Smiles of both us.


The only time you find those men,
With blue briefcases, coat and dark glasses.
Crying with bird eyes in the city,
Tell the earth be in need
Of a different and lasting species of result.

Now my heart and mind be vibrant
When in my home I be sit
To do no progress,
Thousand folds of souls swim
In the globe stream of destruction.

When firm I stand,
Million folds of you go to him.
Now I hath became this face
Good Christ soaks in his holy grace.

09 09 09

Cherish every moment you be
With this quenchless flesh you see.
You cannot always with your arms
Touch my soul.

When you seek me,
Run back to your mind
And hear the sweet singing
And pictures it portrays of me.

Always I may not be
At this juncture for you.
I was sent not only for you
I was not sent for me.

Staring the spirit of one
Who hath saved many
In all paregoric manner
With peace chasing warfare
This word you should know.


When it be those precious season
On earth,
Where pains are blind to get.
There came about a seed
Sowed in the middle of the sun
By a creature who’s left side
Be burnt.

None will ever ponder
It hearth may ever grow
So they kindle up in gay,
In all earthly manner so slow.
They never present to it
Some benefit of a glance,
Only play the fife in bold step to dance.

Some decade came and went
A tempest countryman
Wandered deep to it root
And three golden flowers fell
Between his foot.
Oh what meanest this blossom
Right on my middle?

Which be more puny
The eye of a needle.
On his hand, there be
A spoon, also a machine gun.
He only the third gifted one
Familiar to the sun.
He placed his point to view the clay
This be the paramount amongst
The country prey.

His countenance giggled,
His lips spoke frail words
This seed need not my strength
To bully on.
In due season, it may be fully worn.
I be in great ease
But not same creature,
That brings about peace.

He wondered away
Fast and slow.
And this seed
Will continue to grow.
You have a pain in the neck
Folks watch it insane
You destructive jerk.

Why will you sigh the century of ten
Feeble and unwanted bogey men.

The water stared again,
When we heard his heart died
Many ponder of his pain
Vacate the spot you hide
Praising the rain.
Cheering up the slayer
Of this chief bogey player.

Who brought about your fall
You creature sixteen feet tall.

I stare you now
Some condemn retirement,
Termite eaten up your
Dulcet garment.
Same seed grew a tree

Left alone for free
Smashing off his head.
An awaiting summer night
This be the last hour
About bogey we heard
Where is your light
Now you are dead.


There is a room,
Where heaven lovely throne and beauty are kept.
The only room the lord spirit
Watches over.
Where his fulfillment are revealed.

None hath ever been there
Before me.
On my journey,
I soar with his fervent wing
My heart buoyant with heaven lovely delight.

I watch the secret part
The father and I took.
There are many a gift on the way,
None must you touch
None shall be taken.

They glitter more than dreams
But nothing about them
Yesterday, today and forever
Stand out to be real
Oh my sons.

Like the great saying
And the angel praying
How will the physical,
Come to imagine
It can supersede the spiritual?

When you journey
To the throne room,
Gifts and vision
You may come with
Glamorous, never.

Don’t loss you dream outside
Of creeping shadows.
Be not captured by glistening
Heaven throne room is paramount
It is kept for ………


When I was young
I had many an aged sense
Like rays of light
Sighing and growing.

Always I stand
Outer my window
Pepping the night
Revealing the tales of life
As it fades away slowly.

Sometimes it fades of gold
And silver.
And the warm scented stars,
Shield men dreams
From shiver.

I wonder if God designed
The planets with his colour
Day be paramount
Over night
I must provide you light.

The father truly
Is great and mighty,
To expose revelation of life
To the young
And not the old.

Lest we shall put it
For song
And they shall
Trade all of their tears for

Fully persuaded I am,
I will never get old
Getting aged is useless.
The picture look strange and frail
My father never permit it.

Since my sense wont take me far,
I’ll meditate
all of my day
Watching what is due
In slow night.


You are not of deeper blue,
But paramount like heaven celestial hue.
Since you be so nigh,
I will cherish you as my sky.

Your countenance be of a beauty rare,
Daisies and asphodel's may not compare.
You be to me so close,
my eye will not stare upon a rose.

Your face blooms like sweet flowers,
glistening the chimes of my hour.

Those smiles of yours the worth
Is just like heaven, and more than earth.
your treasure cannot be bought,
you are my heaven on earth.


Now I be awake,
Then fast asleep.
Even in my somnolence,
Still I glance
Your secret deep
More than
Your fading flower

Why have you cherish
Miss rich friend,
Paramount than me?
She can’t be a lad
Just a feminine not
Frail and fine
Hath love
Your bard
The time.
Will any folk
The true sweet
Secret of life?
You be
No more
To me
A wife.
I tarried,
And fiddle
The loss.
[Never were
We married,
Thousand times
We divorced].
For me,
You had
No son
No daughter.
This rare
I alter,
You got
Not my
Happiness done.
Feeble men
Will read
You proceed,
Lost me.
You saw love
You dint
trust it.
I need
My way;
To the
Silent room
Me out
Of doom.
If my heart
Will love again,
In gross sunshine
And rain;
I be
To my
Back to
The forgetful
On a



You stir up my night,
with some lit of sunshine.
causing the countenance of mine
delicate in line of prime.

You are the freshness of april morn
pre-eminent in downtown.
But you must give up beauty,
to our babies unborn.

You be the paramount primrose,
which surface in my spring.
Very like a snowflake nestle
moving me a king.
Thy presence reveal me,
gross symmetry of honeycomb,
And a glistening future
which is guard from rust.

Those very first kiss of yours
still sigh in my picture.

The tale of your beauty,
in my heart is shed abroad.
making the fairest of ten thousands
short of words.

This almond eyes of yours only be tranquil,
delicate like sweetpeas.
Glowing ruby soft with showers,
as you be my glamorous flower.

The asphodel in your dulcet heart,
sigh to emphasize your beauty.
For you be so precious to me
like some gems of araby.

You are the bright reflection
of my dream.
How you have set
my loving kindness free.

My soul soar's because of you
tempest to the sky,
With hand full of dew
your love is mine.

You seem a paradise to me,
kindle and glee
productive and active;
My smile's will not flee.

When i stare your almond eyes,
it discloses a day diamond,
Dahlias, Primrose, Asphodel and Daisy
Please be my bond.

Sieze my velvet shade of night
with shrewd pulcritude.
I wont plead for victory,
my love cannot fight.

Since you be the laurel of me,
do permit no stain behind.
Your true colour they search
which i only can find.

Truely i hath found the triumph
which i search for years.
As you provide me with love,
i'll do mine with happiness and care.

poem 101


I watch you drop
In green and blue
With scattered face of celestial hue.
I knoweth not
If thy time is due,
But about your comeliness
It be not knew.

Why hath you chose
In falling this way
Why this phlegmatic hour and day
This free season of May
When the sky hath travel to pray.
You reply me from those rays,
And undying was what you say.


I be the very point of taught
This green politics cannot cleave
From the nude integrity I face.
Shrewd piece of wane imagination,
The world of men
Is melting apace.


Up on my glistening pole
Who sat was an owl.
Watching with some seven eyes
Waiting for a foe.
You remind me about those nights
That hath long gone away.
The moment I saw you
Reveal a better day.
You stand and look into my eyes
I wonder what you say.
Before I wll just realize
You hath flown away.
Come back you mottle owl
Am not a foe.
I be waiting in the cold
Come back you mottle owl.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010