Midnight Song

I cannot stand to let you see my face

I cannot give you one last embrace

You know how it is for you

The old is dead Let’s bring out the new

I know we thought it was fate

But we ended early what we started late

So long my dear sometimes it is fun

But now it is over and truly done

But then you had to give me one last call

I was a proud man but even angels haveĀ  to fall

So now I trudge back alone to my place

And I guess honey you will never see my face

N N Nuh N N Nuh, N N Nuh, N N Nah

2015 - 1

 

 

 

One more cup of tea

Everybody loves me, they tell me again and again

My shy insecurities, my wry eccentricities

Very few people like me, especially when I am sober

I am an immature brain pretending to be a grown up

I tried Jesus, I chanted Buddha, I visited temples

It was of no use, God has forsaken me, if He existed

I tried fried eggs, I tried chicken wings, I tried chutney

The only thing lifted was my cholesterol and not my spirits

They told me I need balance and they told me to believe

I asked them if they were serious and to pass me the salt please

I tried dating women of various shapes and color

The only thing that brought to me was a strait jacket with a yellow collar

So I gave up and I swallowed all their pills and lies

They asked me if I would like my order with fries

I shrugged and smiled and asked them for a few more days

But they told me I had to amend my wary ways

While the Angels and Demons played Chess and Peekaboo

Eden burned and Earth was drowned by water blue

I sat in a cafe still writing my poem for free

And asked them for one more cup of tea

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Lost Poems

There are poems I wrote
There are poems I lost
Chasing dreams and money
Chasing sleep and idleness

Arrogance is the privilege of the talented
The mediocre have nothing to be humble about
In my arrogance I forgot to write down my poems
Or the thoughts that inspired those poems in the first place

In my arrogance I gave away my best ideas and my poetic thoughts
Now those poems sell clever Tee shirts
While I count my pennies
And rue my lost poems

Extended Adolescence

My extended adolescence
Began in much earnest essence
At the age of seventeen
Going strong at thirty seven

I still speak up in the extended adolescence
For perceived black or white
For right or left side of the normal curve
I am still unrestrained by your comparative complacence

Sometimes I feel disheartened
These are the times I feel so mature
But would you be a dishonest and secure
Or be a honest extended adolescent

The days of

these are the days of poverty
these are the days of living by chance
these are the days when we sit and ponder
when we are not getting ready for the dance

these are the days before our destined greatness
these are the days before we were swallowed by wealth
these are the days when our lousy bank balance
is balanced only by our shiny health

these are the days of smelling roses
when we ourselves don’t smell so well
these are the days of having time to laze about
and complain how we need air conditioning in hell

these are the days of our youth
these are the nights we live and laugh
time shall fly by quickly enough
but right now we have our life ahead by half

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