respect: earned through suffering
no food no sleep no rest
worth: deemed by usefulness
idleness is useless is worthless

a cart of ideologies
hurtling down an infinite hill
pushing on to the next poor fools
who receive and continue

maybe I need to slow it down
throw myself in front and
bump
did that work

is one made a martyr
or just a conman, the easy way out
refusing to play the game
opt out of self sacrifice with self sacrifice

a slow inhale as i wake
aches in every muscle
every nerve on its end
exhausted and heavy
time blurs into itself
into a single moment
into picturesque bliss
on a rotting canvas
i am rotting with it
the world keeps spinning
my clothes become tatters
my knees become weak
my feet bleed
if i could just close my eyes
for five more minutes
five more hours
five more years
which is better
to stand and fall
or kneel and live
to live is to suffer
to forever kneel
for those who tower over me
to always be less
to always be this
to feel the world crumbling around me
again and again
i kneel and cower
to protect myself from debris
that crushes me anyway
life is kneeling
so maybe i should stand
and fall
because kneeling
isn't living

It’s the piece of loose skin on the edge of your thumb

The eyelash that gets stuck in your eye

The rock in your shoe

The sock sliding down your sole

The runny nose that won’t stop running

The first sip of tea that burns your tongue

The hair in your mouth you can’t locate

The piece of apple that won’t come out from the gap between your teeth

We all have the ability to suffer
when it comes to love.
We all have the ability to get the pain when expectations run away from our brain.
The reality always hits you.
And here I am in.
So let's get all of them create you become an art.
This poem may not get you
but it is better to share with you.
You may not realize who you are now,
until someone tells you,
someone that you didn't know before;
the strangers in your mind.

The world is but a single step,
A hundred step a minute;
People live with miseries.
Heaven is as clear as history;
Therefore, I use heaven as a mirror.
To portrait those that suffer,
Those who worries,
And those who bear so sorrow,
How many can live so carefree?
Your heart are troubled;
Yet my heart says otherwise.
In the end, where you find sorrow;
I find happiness.
Life is all about perspective;
Those who live suffer;
Those who suffer will live;
Life is suffering.

"She's long ago forgotten me."
"I hope she finds me in lonely rain."

We were in love with someone we can't keep or save.
We were in fight with that reality, we called it love and hate.
We were in suffer for this tragedy we called romance.
We were in trapped the way it called game, but nobody knows how ready they are.
The tragedy we called romance, the way the heart's broken, the adrenaline when we were in love.

"It's too late to grow a beautiful flower with the same sun in the wild street", said the man who was sitting on the park bench eating his own ****.

The art
will tell you
about the pure soul.
It is not only
about the feeling
in suffer or happy
when we create it
by ourself.
The art
will show
the other sight
when some people
don't.
The art
is not only
about the work.
It is about
life.

Apathy, oh dear apathy
How I suffered slowly
Heart so lonely
Even safe in their arms
Your coldest embrace
Hides my tear-stained face
Save me from the shell
From the nothing I have become

Dear apathy, dear apathy
My heart rings lowly
An echoless bell,
A great empty shell,
Ever trapped in the greatest of hells

Why you come to me I do not know
For you cover my soul and call it home
Shelter me from the rain in my head
Even when I wake from my shivering bed

There is no more dread
There is no more pain
Not sorrow nor aching
Only nothing again
Nothing but numb
What have I become?
What have I...become?

Dear apathy
Even when I should be happily
Joyously so
You refuse to go
Oh the great things that you know…

Dear apathy, dearest apathy
My heart, it suffered slowly
Until you came to me
Took me into your embrace
You shelter my tear-stained face
From all of this disgrace
That has become me…
Whatever am I to be,
With or without you
My dearest apathy?

My dearest apathy
I suffered so slowly
Heartstrings, tear and fray
For indescribable reasons I stay
Even whilst they play
Ever so lowly

There is no echo, no ring or sound
There is no song, no feeling at all
There is no care, not a bit in the world
For I have given all I have to give
In this great life that I live
I give and I give…
Until I can no more
Until I can no more
My heart opens the door…
It opens the door
Welcoming you into my coldest embrace

Dear apathy, you came for me
When I needed you most
I was but your host,
A wailing ghost
Until you came to me…
Now my greatest emotions
The vastest of oceans
They rest, now
They leave me be…
Since you have come to me
They leave me be…

Dear apathy, dear apathy…
These times you come to me
Shelter me, hold me to be
Lulled into your coldest of arms
Silence the alarms
Out with the candle
Out with me…
And welcome, dearest apathy

- Jay M
October 11th, 2021

It is a quarter past June, and
          already it seems like a record setting summer.
Sprinklers and the scent of chlorine filled pools,
          as I walk in my street-worn shoes to my sanctuary.

The lifeless blacktop park where
          my will and the heat-embracing pavement meet.
A well-manicured backyard tree hangs its verdant leaves
          just over its owner’s fence.
Like a lifeline for life reaching out to me.

I stick and I move,
          as the sweat cleans the dirt and despair from my face.
Like a sunshine superman, I drink UV rays into my bones.
          Alone I feel whole.
The disinfecting flames of summer
          have begun to melt the cold rot encasing my soul.

Captive within the bars
He waits.
Endless waiting
Every day the same,
Every tick of the clock is clear
And now, a day seems much longer
Receiving no kindness
For, he deserves none, they say
The anger at mind
Is struggling to burst out
But he knows better than that.
At first, was patient.
But now,
Fighting within to save the sanity
The God favors the truth, they say,
So, why an exception
Or did he look the other way?
When an innocent man’s life
Was decided against the truth.
Fate…
No other seems better to blame
For, one should not blame God, they say
Endless violence
Endless sufferings
But the worst is his struggle
Within, his innocent mind.
Once was a believer,
So there’s still hope, he thinks
Does God have a plan?
Or was this a cruel joke?
He, who waits,
Tries hard to believe
That still he has hope…