There goes a heavy mind, of speaking such
a mind— which I try to do.
And its hard to admit sometimes the crack of a smile
cuts through my skin, just a few.
On the lines of lies; the straight answer sounds so crooked,
As the itch of resolve, comes from a different view, when most
of the actions seem so confused,
—used, abused, and concluded as making a lack of effort.
Oppressed, in such a depressed action; pressed out of
maturity’s wine— blood red of repentance.
I’ve failed, and have failed people; also the latter, people have
failed and have failed me also, now having to come to
terms with the fact with great acceptance.

Enduring the plank within a jealous eye;
a speck of envy entails the nonstop question of, “why,”
—the yearning for such possessions had possessed me
to speak upon another person, with such evil.
Even if I had more than what they have, it would all feel
trivial, as what is considered important by people.

Some tears at times do feel milked, that they have stained
my face with a façade of innocence.
Oftentimes, my mind comes with equal amounts of
guilt, through its own filth.
Walking with eyes focused on every step, to avoid a
reflection of themselves in the gazes of the sun,
Still the reflection displays my darkness,
as a shadow of secrets, pressed onto the ground.
For what man so desperately tries to hide, is always found out,
And what they’re not proud of, becomes the pride of the
overestimation of their lies, that have them bound.

Oh, how tall life is, and we’d fall so short of it.
Our words of praise, are as sweet as *****,
Revolting; sickening acts that say,
“Buying into the world is more important,”
Despite what the end will be, when a ticket into Heaven,
isn’t close to a cost’s fit.

From heaven and hell
or simply I could tell
a labyrinth where I fell
and begged in a
cathedral that I've built
to woe my insurmountable grief
to forfend my undying love. and thus, my love grew as my abyss.

A glass can shatter
But a love  holds the key
Stay put your life
truly matters  
She rests her head
A steadfast rock don't keep
your eyes

Focused on a useless
clock?
Like tick tock what is more?
God has a plan right timing
Like a bet or winning score  
Our minds like shock wave
Glass half filled fingers move

Ballet tip toe beating heart  
Pour a new glass  your lips
turn colors and stay fit
Flying the stars  forms appear
Teardrops of a miracle
Powerful mind with principle

Jesus we trust
Like a rise up shimmered sun
Stained glass
He lift your spirit see through it
  New chapter being happier
Divine glass of wine
Walk the faith you stay* on line__

Hearts floating glass take one
Two sips love dream state
Promise land trip of fate
Your angels tell you spiritually
You are the divine wings
         Perfectly

Deep glass opens bright star

       Sunset* We Met
Your glass you sip slow
Never to deceive you
Just a true love to please you
Heavenly father above
Glass flower spiritually
Grows maturely

Just lovely divinely
Like a holy taste of wine  
God delivers Guardian angel *
Like a celebration new you arrival

I got this new hand soap, called “Frosted Coconut Snowball.”
It's the dreamiest scent ever.

When I’d unpacked (from Spring break) and had everything in place,
I dragged Andy and Leong into my bathroom. Wash your hands,” I suggested, holding up the soap dispenser and turning on the tap.

“Ok," Leong said, offering her upturned hands for soaping.
“Sure,” Andy said, assenting with his hands as well.

I pumped out a generous, foaming squirt for each of them.
Leong held the foam up to smell. “Oh, my GOD,” She moaned, “is this edible?
I shook my head no.

Andy sampled his as well, “Nice!” he agreed. Which is volumes from a guy.

“I fell in love with it.” I declared, adding, “You know, I never used to wash my hands before - now, it’s practically a habit.”
Andy chuckled.

“Good to know,” Leong said, before she began slowly inhaling the fragrance off her now-dry hands.

heaven on earth.
a strange phrase for such a dreadful place.
i always ask myself, "what makes earth so.. peaceful?"
I have yet to get answer.
sitting here, hearing the rain drip down buildings and houses.
Maybe I can count to a thousand reasons why.
maybe I'm just delusional.
heaven.
that word.
makes very many people happy.
but why not me?
am i afraid?
or am i just dull.
earth.
a planet we humans call home.
but are we really home?
questions like these keep me up at night.
heaven on earth.
why is it so cold?

I asked my dead friend:
'Have you been to Heaven?'
Of course! - he exclaimed!
Many times. And you? 'Never...'

'How was it?' Nothing special 
 - he was quick to admit.
Overpriced, tourists trap.
I prefer it here, where I live.  

I asked: 'Are you serious?!'
He replied: Yes, my friend.

Then we went for a coffee.
It was a beautiful day.

Valentine's Day should be celebrated,
Twenty Four by Seven.
Whether you're on the Highway to Hell
or walking the Stairways to Heaven.
Coz in Her Eyes, lies a Sea of understanding.
In Her Heart, there's warmth beyond the Sun.
She will Love U, till the World stops spinning.
She's worth the Gold, weighing more than a Ton.
U will find Her Love, wrapped....around U
and in Her Voice, U will sense a Mystical Charm.
In Winter U will find yourself, Warm and Cozy.
As She has wrapped U, in both Her Arms.
U will be lost, without your Woman.
The Almighty to Us, has been very Kind.
Woman to Us, is a God sent Blessing,
She's Salvation to Whole Mankind.

I saw Heaven hanging over my head like a chandelier, it's
angels were swimming in the light, whispering sweet hymns,—
in a kaleidoscope filled with broken dreams.
The gates fell open like a strand of hair, trumpets were blaring for kings, with thrones like rocking chairs, of my ancestors and their heirs. On earth, I had cattle trodding around my heart to pay for love; as dowry couldn't pay enough for who I once loved.
I drank the tears of Heaven's rains, to tie my tithes wrapped
around my neck; waiting for their fortunes reigns.

I kissed an angel that melted my lips, and had suckled on the ******* of mother nature, who fed me milk and honey to keep me alive. I danced around the edge of an end, where life begins once again. My toes felt cold as a tear drop lost in snow,— my ears were ringing like the church carillon, calling me to repent.
And from the stained glass window frames, it all immediately painted out my pain.

I thought of you, just before I took my last breath, begging the favours from the mistress of Death. I felt like a flower in your hand; each petal being picked away, asking the question of,
"does she love me or love me not." I thought of being holy enough to fit in your heart, but I was as holey as the holes in my socks. My prayers all stunk of the lie behind them all. I looked into your eyes to see heaven inside, as I was living in the world.
I bit on time to have it for seconds, and served a dish of revenge only in my heart,— I was taught it will always be a cold meal; so
I'd use my spark of love to keep it warm. I shared stories with
the world, told my biggest secrets to the sky, and left
breadcrumbs to them, in every word of my poems.

Still...in the chaos of my mind, lied a still river flowing with worth. Drowning myself in your eyes, as your every tear was the inspiration of what became our story. But I know in the end, our love will just be another person's story...