The loner wears no cloak of loneliness
He hears the symphony of soulfulness
The crowd is fun
But maybe it's noise
Too rowdy to breathe
Too choked up to flow
The emotions ,the adrenaline
All too draining
For a profit of nothing
Pained jaws. Dry throats .Buzzing head.
From words shouldn't have said
The risk of Divulging too much
Or the fear of not fitting in
To belong amongst three or four
The noise is a distraction
From all the peace In his head

The stains on my skin
tell stories of the good times.

The stains on my heart
write poems.

At five years old Lucky grew wise
If rumours were steadfast and true
But it’s not just the east, where whispers deceive
Your senses and alter your views

At birth he was given, a name that was bound
To catch him off-guard and reveal
To believe every word, is just as absurd
As a cat growing wings like a bird

Each morning at eight, lucky would wait
For the pigeon he’d come to resent
At the top of the tree, he’d perch to escape
So, he planned a cunning accent

No matter how hard we try,
Trouble must find us even if we fly,
One way or the other.
It's the occasion of natural order.

Why then do you say, 'I want no troubles?"
When you don't confront troubles,
Your mind so deep they'll maim,
Your humanity, they'll so overwhelm,
Even the pieces of your soul will scarcely remain

Are you so fearful of the unknown?
Are you so powerless before the known?
Say no more, for troubles last not forever!
Rise up in arms against them wherever.

With their elated spines now tingling through the awakened minds subtlest feelings,
And the core of their inner souls aligned to the essences they found so deep inside,
Through such resplendent realisations of the complexities of their spiritual meanings,
They rediscover the cosmic creative essences of when inner galaxies did first collide.

I may be jaded,

But this I realized,

Is the worldview I alone have created,

Quiet,Cold,

But still in the process of being calibrated,

All while carrying a mountain up a hill,

All because of an ADHD pill.

I may wear a mask sometimes absent of tears,

It's gone on for too many years,

Weighted down,

And hung up from a sequoia,

Drowning in a kind of controlled paranoia.

I may be fed up and bored,

Trying to align my thoughts with the hoard,

Fighting social anxiety,

Once I found myself
Upon an arched-boned bridge.

A bell rang.

Time ceased,

Incised through granite sundials,

Motionless,

Exactly midnight, paused.

Across the hours, space occurred
Between minutes, seconds vanished,
Shocked. Was I dreaming?

A bell rang.

I stumbled across a courtyard,
Seeking soup,
Sustenance, from the arms of robed men,
Eyeless men, faces covered in cloth.

A bell rang.

After months aboard a floating tomb
With the stench of death and gloom
Shackled in chains, this unfortunate slave
At the land of the free, and home of the brave

Same cotton wheel, years down the line
All work not play, with no way to resign
Dare to ask for water, from the boss man at auction
Make no mistakes - approach with caution

Out of luck - not today, so I’ll go without
I think of the cattle, at home in a drought
And the floating tomb, in sea that was crushing
One extreme to the other, much water or nothing

The fountains mingle with the river and the rivers ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever with a sweet emotion; nothing in the world is single ,All things law divine In one another's being migle *** Why not i with thine ? see the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another ; No sister *** flower would be forgiven if it disdain'd its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth , And the moonbeams kiss the sea*** What is all this sweet work worth if thou kiss not me ?

At this point,
i am convinced I am a machine.
Synthetic man, unheard and unseen.
How badly i wish
I was clean.
Like an old computer caked in dust,
That never seems
to come completely off.
Surviving is a must.
Wake up.
go to sleep.
routines that never end
and code that circles into itself.
Go to the store.
Wash your face.
Hope that someday, somehow, some way
You'll get out of this fucking place
taking care of myself.
in the shower again.
Scrub. scrub.