Poetry – Page 33 – SIMPLE WORLD

Unholy Package

Online to connect

Maybe for acceptance

The tale goes longer

Always seeking to reach

The pen that fell on soil

The cloud that accepted

Criticism always frowned on

The new world is near you

The old parting away

The touch is you

The slap is dense

Worry not,

Sip, and rage on the forum of blank whites

here and there

Often too serious

The deeper it gets, the duller it reads

Sometimes, that is

The meaning remains

The reader counts loss

The flow never fluctuating

Though, the view is beautiful

Acceptance was never fully regained

Berry Henny

Been a while

Since the word became a message

In shame

All the same

Before turns to after

No later than the time I started

Empty credits

Empty Zeros

Over drafted paper bags

Crack the purpose

Never looking into a mirror

Always down into the river of wine and sorrow

Stressful society begs and pleads

She lost, now he wants

Mine is mine

All I have is ink and sweat

Just What I Am

I am not here to impress

I have tried that before,

People tend to spit hatred

All of which,

May not be our fault

Our destiny might be heading to oblivion

“No! I’m not heading into science”

But,

In times like this

When truth is deceit

One can only pray

And fear with hope

At Night

The reason we all paint

The season never right

The moment always there

Only you can tell

Acceptance is a dirty business

Paid in full

Souls without receipts

Creativity seeking an artist

The curse that follows

Submerged in our deepest regret

Love swims well

Somehow,

Never hiding, always in front

The complicated rhymes
Rewriting the name Jesus
Every suit preaches
Yeah, they saw him
Some walked on water
Other saw Moses
Flaws none have
Perfected reflections
Always accepting glorified pieces
Tongues twirl when gold pours on
Smiles widen when watches strap on
By the steps, or in pockets
Feeding the luxurious beggar
Not soul, rather in taste
Nothing holy about that water

Read part i here

Striking Resemblance

I steer clear from the pretentious

My wheels of thoughts drive off

Into there and here

Looking for a road without dust

How pretentious.

Away, again, I found that same road

Another trace of lies

From the start, it seemed anew

But, the finish begged to differ

Never repeating my mistakes

I lunged into the old tale called love

Hoping to keep sanity

How pretentious.

The Crocodile City

The city stank of death and utter desolation. Many dirty gutters were scattered all over the city showering their many unwanted blessings to those who dared to breathe.