And when there’s much to think about
there’s too little to say
but at such a point
there’s quadrillions of things to write
and gazillions of words to get lost in.
BENIGN.
And when there’s much to think about
there’s too little to say
but at such a point
there’s quadrillions of things to write
and gazillions of words to get lost in.
BENIGN.
Perfectly different
and in the sparks of a flaming fluid
I’d see myself
just as a kilned pot
but with cracks for perfection
Different.
Flawed. Perfect.
BENIGN
Im troubled
But I’m just a bird
It’s all up to me
Because my cries;
They’re song to their ears.
I’m told people tire
But I dare call exemptions on myself
There’s more to my heart’s being myogenic
For it beats not only for me
But also for the depth of the love my existence can’t help but feel for you Mi Amor
I’m never to fatigue
And just as time knows no end
My love for you knows no halt
You’re the love of my life
And I’ll always love you.
I don’t usually walk alone
But I know the beauty of solitary saunters
And I know how sweet it is to hum tunes my brain credits itself for
so I walk with my music
and my problems too
Chanting them as if to entertain the whizzing winds
Singing them as if the melodies would shoo them away,
With the incessant brrrr!s they leave on my ears
Chorusing them to the birds
Just as if their responses are solutions
Chirp! Chirp! they quip, and I sing along
There’s a solution to my troubles,
The winds and birds know,
I don’t walk alone.
I don’t walk alone.
The environment
The beauty, the marvel
It be the breath of fresh air that our hearts beat on
Or that splash of clean water that more often than not quenches our thirsts,
It’s an ineffable magnificence
Straight from the rejuvenating sunrises, our dear vitamin D
To the brain calming orange sunsets that we love to watch
It’s that mango, it’s slices that are Life; food
Or that kale whose leaves taste so good
And the shade we quite often enjoy
And again, the tree or two that’s the timber on our roof…
The environment
The undying source that for granted we take
And for the proverbial beings we are
None will miss the waters till the wells run dry
It’s the trees we cut and don’t replace
That’ll be the death of our fresh air
It’s the waste that we’d rather dispose in a river
That’ll be the extinction of our fish
And oh well, burnt plastics
To see to it that seeing starry nights becomes a fairy tale
And to cup it all up
The beauty that’ll be turned to a dream
If we cease to conserve
I’m in the bathroom and my water is cold
I feel man enough today to not have it warmed,
My water isn’t just cold, it freezes
My knuckles shudder,my teeth rattle
And all these, just at sight….
Will I bathe today?
My racing heartbeat, and my trembling torso know better
My still dry sponge knows too..