Skip to main content

What is it about?

Let me whisper as the neurons fire, let me walk you through the tale, as the flavor rises, the shiver, it's back, and I don't know why, but I know exactly why.

Beautifully cut pieces, flavor waiting to be lived, I fail at describing, as the many lagers stand beside me. What can I say, you know the path you must walk, what can I say, I've been here before, but I put down a different set, a different combination which were I a man of the past, would have frowned upon.

As I stand back, I remember the stone, I remember the words, and the very subtle steps that marked an eluded happiness in a tale that brings a smile which knows no origin.

I pack it up and to hell with it I say, I have put away the book of knowledge, and turned back to page one on experience. Everything is different now, and although I make no promises of repetition, I acknowledge the product of my very motion. Let me not think for once, and just be. Let me just be because that is all that I want.

Perfect or imperfect, I assure myself of no truer words other than the ones in copy. I am not one to know who I am, but rather, one to know that I am not one, but rather, any one I want to be.


Popular posts from this blog

Learning to float

First my apologies.
Perhaps I gave y'all the idea that
it was all spit without the gears
We aint about that shit

Words can leave you salivating
But sweat builds the fucking mountains
So don't ever forget that in a heartbeat
I could carry your dreams and forget I even did

You're swimming in it, but you can't even float
The irony of words is that they hold the strength of plans
Without the gunshot
You'll never be grand.

We can all aim high but precision does the talking
It's all too simple these days
With the chatter and spread of information
We're suddenly heroes and activists

But we haven't even blinked, the AC,
It's still running. It's near silence
but its not. The inaction,
It's deafening.

Heck I've gone mute,
I can't even rhyme shit
that could emphasize the prolonged
dream of a typeface, the letters were blank.

It was always that way,
It was always silent because at some point
We stop pinching ourselves and assume
that it was deserved…



It switched.
Unequivocally different.
Through those hardships
We finally turned around.

Perhaps reflections and glimmers
Gave us sight when we could not claim
But the panoramic put the shimmer
To shame.

Thank you.
In this brilliance we rose
Hoping to understand why the routine
drifts away in prose

For every detail and every insight
The neurons kept firing in question,
Let us speak for it is time
To mark this audacity in rhyme.

Although subtle
The cues went noticed
The portrait tact
And yet somehow,

But lets digress from these colors
Let the light paint our shadow
For the steps keep calling
with a subtle vibration

We know its time.

On nature's sincerity

I wish I could But I spoke nonsense I wrote it rather To speak it back to you.
The trees spoke quietly I looked from above and smiled The sun tucked away and I hoped It would spill its secrets.
The picture was rightfully painted Had I blinked, I would have missed it. Do not use sincerity It is not becoming of usage.
Learn to become And you will see the world As it was born It will smile once more. x