Friends Lost

Friends lost too early,
untimely demised from the long road,
lost meandering the land of Madness.

Tick – tock.

From mizzle to drizzle
to the tempest of mind,
they found no kind of peace,
no patience for the patient.

Tick – tock.

Friends lost too early,
too many too soon
to a Madness that roams
my mind, as they carry on living.

The Curse of the Sphinx

Their imposed truths will fade,
crumble like the pillars of men
afraid of the curse of the sphinx;
no answers will come
no answers to fill the void
of knowing that all is wrong,
that all truths are false
that turning left and left
never becomes a right
never becomes a life;
She will allow no answers
to become normative
to become prevalent;
the truths needs exposure
as the lies they are,
as the fading light shows
those perceptive.

Dissection
Every book dissected,
every paragraph on every page
scrutinized,
parsed, paused and pondered
on sentence structure
on the writing in the spaces 
between and below 
I saw their flaws
like shooting stars on cloud-free nights,
sparkly like the diamond I gave away,
I saw their flaws and failures bulging 
like a tin of fermented herring;
dissected, dismembered, dismayed 
I deemed them –
geniuses. 

The Letter
Wingless and chained,
you detached yourself 
handwriting a leaving letter
in my scribbling notebook,

rattled and rusty
I still keep it,
my attachment still remain
to you and your final words

which one day I will force 
down my throat
to break your curse
that stuck like lovers’ lips embracing,

force them down my throat 
to find courage
to find another
bird of a feather. 

The Happy App
Search, search, try to find 
the happy app
the sustainable solution 
to solitude. 

Search, search, try to find 
benevolent breadcrumbs
left by others on this shared path
from solitude. 

Search, search, try to find
measurable meaning 
once found in abundance
beyond this rigid purdah. 

Search, search, try to find 
the happy app
the fictitious act 
of belonging. 

Lust for Life
no steaming calzone
no empty calories 
can sustain my starving souls

no lingering smoke
no uncaught coughs
can dim my vacant sights

no white pellets
no seasonal sanity 
can sway my straying corpse 

no back-alley bright enough 
no seductive sea calm enough
to rekindle my lust for life

Unsung, my song of hope:
feed me
find me
free me
from these grey demons’ control.