How much better is a definition                                                                                                                   when it’s unrefined                                                                                                                                           For all those that change                                                                                                                                 Exchange their own time for time                                                                                                               Our only currency



Is it my worth in so many words
The story will be forgotten
Whether or not it is heard nor told

A Five Year Old

Shall the recognition

Be acknowledged by

unwarranted validation



Wasted praised

On scribbles made

By an unblessed hand


All their dwindling

Inklings as a vacancy

Seen through the soulless glass


There is noise inside

Neither anguish nor some bliss

Enter if You may

A five year old sun

From & For

Vaguely running through the summer’s

night puddles

The empty feeling fills itself

because there can’t be nothing.


Each candy coated, lungs filled

with smoke I’m choking


Grinning from your soul,

may I lay beside you,

whispering into your ear


Who would beg for that

wretched nothing, wretched nothing


Losing, losing days

these hours are seconds

to that smile

can we be infinite



Therefore, here can not e something

The full thought empties myself

Let the winter’s shine

soak up that vividness


A call to arms,

All things fall apart,

As I shall sleep and

count these grains no longer


Subsides the loneliness,

yet it’s for no one else

Searching for something

Who shall , am I

going to fill this all



Let’s fall upon, upon

and arise to the flawless

mess of this abode


For there’s no one to

disappoint and nothing

to expect


From you

For me

From me

For you


There’s little else to fill this void

filled shaft

Let the gates of dream

Open as I shut my lids

Into oblivion

Blow my mind, and bash my brain


Faint Shadow

Lay  with me as the water

begins to fall


Viscous as it hits our skin,

the taste shall e’er linger

upon our lips


What shall we speak of then

when these our altars are in



When our words are spoken

by others, who never understand

the cadence of our hymns


The sacred becomes ritualistic,

a faint shadow of our

faithful whim


The realisation embeds us in

the mire we made


A long time ago, what we

was ne’er ours to keep


Lifetimes that come with

no receipts, our dreams on a

loop until they are fulfilled


Shall we dance with those

suns our brothers

Shall we dance with the

moonlit planets


Here and then no longer.

All we ever did was chase

our butterflies

As those with,

devour us.


For Your life’s meaning is a


One You can’t catch without


Upon this daily basis, still ponder why

we’ll wonder out this door.


For Your life’s meaning is

but a butterfly. there’s

no catch without loss. Maybe

laying still I shall no longer

chase my own butterfly.


Fall asleep as clouds and sky

pass-over me.

Awaking, I stir the butterfly

upon me.


I say, say hold

this hand of mine

as we let go of

the lands before our eyes.


Close our lids

so slowly

I’m, I’m, um-um

We’re floating down


We’re floating down

Sinking into oblivion

There’s no art to the performance,

no performance to this art.

Only the audience.



A performance?

A show?

I read a few poems

written hours ago


Yet no word as each

second is more

valuable than another.


Each one equally

superfluous in its






Your existence

makes a difference,

even if You are not

trying nor want it



It matters,

You matter,

You’re full of it,

meaning that is.


That is, it is still insignificant.