It has to go that way.

It has to go that way
Search of a something better
Restless and many dream,

It has to go that way
Polish our lost and disorder
To make nothing out of nothing,

It has to go that way
Reality make you realize
Importance of dream alive,

It has to go that way
Many talk and meant of nothing
Compliancy of found desert,

It had to be that way
Tuk it like it is
Crumble like in curse,

It has to go that way
Roll of an oracle
And trade your whole life,

It has to go that way
Learn from a people
Learn_Learn_till u turn grey,

It has to be that way
Trust and loyalty
Ties to many condition,

It has to be that way
We fear less from ourself
And more to the outer,

It don’t necessarily Has to be that
That we know little
And our life is
What we make
Out from it.

Jack kerouac.

Misunderstood.

Don’t mind the Misunderstood
Outly fit I’m
Temporarily outcaste,
I blow breath
Lousy pay,
These mountain don’t bend
Loyal to my fingers
Love amaze. Faces i never saw
And being myself
Like many other did
Found at nowhere,
And I don’t mind
Misunderstood
Outly fit I’m.

Keeper of all flowers.

Calmly sat on a cycle and everything notice. His feet and face all burned’out like season of summer without the night. Look of a sufism, attachment to nothing yet still attach. There’s images of bare life as it is before the invention of many and I kept staring and he kept looking away:driven soul he saw whose concern narrow,
keeper of all flowers.

Last Piece of a Pieces.

I am no poet
And I dont stay quite,
Imagine a wave
Run up throught your vein
Trashy tracks of fool
Dead one the alive one,

Modify my hand and legs,
Feel like God hate from twenty-two,
Before change
Of creature blind
Rolling blind
With a rage of blind
Will end up as a blind,

After the after
Like a words
Scent of lost
Taste of a fool again
Brought rain of a life again…

I saw how hit flies these day
Black the white
White the blue
Blue the world
But I ain’t no people
And I don’t hate no people
Walking by the edges
Carrying no ouchebag .

Falling bird.

 

I woke with some blues
With no clues of why
I try searching for something
But was freeze in a laziness
I told my tale to a friend
He got no taste for no tale

‘And I’m typing few falling
Singing some wasted times
Been keeping away from that screen
Falling up and down like rain ‘

I woke with some blues
Away from the sun
Struck in a blackhole
Freeze with the dizziness
I told my tale to a friend
He got no taste for no tale

‘And I’m typing few falling
Singing some wasted times
Been keeping away from that screen flying smoothly in a bottonless pit.

 
Falling up and down like rain ‘

Poetry like music. Everyone dwell in their own world – 
Flashing back and forth with guilt

with fear and with some kind of understanding that everything is connected.

Self and cold.

Half salty and half sweet
Ghost -the one part
Wireless devices
Circling of  hope
Glasses of glasses.

Half salty and half sweet
Dark shadow stretches to touch
And when storms and rocks are near
Hope the strength will be found
Path would be a long walk into a summer
And self would be more of a self.

waiting for the end.

The reeling mind and I’m bad at the art of suffering well. Everything absorbs and self-inflicted rain, this desire to live another life.call the death crowd again, call the lively boredom again. ‘Having mirror in once room is a good feeling’, said the wall. The images roiled and the darker the cloud- bolder would be the rain and the flood and the dead corpses – crawling and in the end, nothing seems to change. The rules of how to live or love or how to die.
If I can able, I’ll attach dead in each words, magic in each breath and giant love in each shelf.

Everything is broken. Mug in the room, clouds in the sky, hearts of young and old, everything is broken-lured. The walls are high and sedate, ceiling look like sky and room-a world.

There’s a hell in your brain
And that otherside in your heart.

Silence.

Off the dust from your heart and head
Right now the journey ends at door
Great dead wall facing the end too
The end of child to be child no more,

Off the dark from your head and heart
Nicely day are all trim with dark
Nightly night wrap in a mighty cold
Light ever be found must be inside
Finely hope must be in memory.

Read good books
Love good people
And do good sin.

Morning.

Highway track
Couldn’t break the glassy way
In blue the spring young
Growing circle
Twill grateful
Youth lifetime
Endless wave from ocean
On sand the footstep never seen-
Lost and found and lost
Secluded shore.