rivals..

Black and White; a clear portrait.

Good and Evil; a win-win situation.

Mum and Dad; an obsolete divorce.

Birth and Death; deepest griefs.

Love and Hatred; a jazzy life.

Heart and Mind; ridiculously inherited.

Body and Soul; a rotten truth.

You and I; a never-ending fantasy.

Me and Myself; an eternal lore that never thrilled.

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Atrocious status..

Be in the know Kate that Alfonso is fed up of the way you approach him. He is suffering and just too shy to express the way he feels when you hostilely talk to him. It has been ages since you touched him tenderly; he craves for it. As a long-time partner, you are supposed to be super gentle to your soulmate. Now, the status is still tolerable. However, this caused lots of issues with his job causing a solemn confusion with his management. Deep down he wanted to stand and reject your sarcastic way of taking.

The accountant’s wife is not happy as well. Once she gets a divorce, there will be others to follow. Then, you will have to handle an atrocious status alone. Someone will be hit hart, most probably with a mallet in the face; still forget most of late marriage nights and destroyed pleasures. Eventually sent to poverty and misery again; maintaining same status it all started ages ago.

..misty..

now that it is all over;

sun shines; not as sweet..

over Jupiter, another cracked relationship;

come on over dear,

be brave; it is past mid night..

not so misty; is it your soul Blondie?

lift her up, curves held;

tight, till another sunshine,

once freed; surrender to the wind..

wander bare footed, wrapped with white fur;

basement is yours..all of it,

never ever think of breaking free..

lower levels are dedicated..

nice, muddy, overwhelmed with poverty..

cry it out loud, working hard; just like a…

morning jazz will never pick up troubled dreams;

no more standing at door step;

enjoy chimney’s dark stinky smoke..

penetrating tiny blocked lungs..

soul strives for a memory..

of a simple thing;

saxophones play favorite classics;

demons inhale misty thoughts…

 

 

simple things; fear.

A true illustration of a fake individual who never existed even though his wife gave birth to a pretty girl. She was not blond but still charming at her fifties with three kids that was raised in complete poverty and a need for the simplest things of an average person.

Dad, can I walk you through the garden as I used to do before that bloody accident? Sure dear…since mum left, life has turned into a bitter sweet nightmare. However, she spent a happy few last years with Alfonso; a childhood dream love.

Let’s get breakfast first. It will not be helpful to start a new day so empty. Miss mum’s omelet with mushroom and pepper. Now, sharing the bad and good news is such a pleasant adventure. Leaving the morning filled with sadness wishing for a new Dawn. New fantasy that will be never disclosed before dooms day.

A strong desire for leaving the good old Alzheimer with the sunset in a windy summer night. Drive the wheelchair darling…mum would never have done so. Regrets looks for not helping with all very tiny simply stuff. Should father continue hating himself wondering how did it all go wrong? A simple thing for now; face the ever-lingered fears forcefully. Baby: tolerate, enjoy such a simple overwhelmed fear.


Featured image source: https://picsbroker.com/fear-wallpapers

narrow frames..!

Just keep on moving darlin;

Could it be the chemistry?

Freaked out in dark basements…

Stuck in a gloomy sunrise…

with you gain!

forget our tears;

neglect our fears;

never mind wasted years..

just place our destiny to a; narrow frame of fame…

torn apart..but still;

adore your skin smell;

gosh, deep in side still.

..status; blues…

leavin today!

what a madness!

do you believe the same words?

nope…as ever; a lie

a fancy silky tie,

just to be satisfied;

you name it, cry it..

can not hear you no more,

no such mercy,

alone again; in an abandoned town..

is it right, woman?

walk out. now please..

wonna cry the blues on stinky memories..

down with any trace of your passion.

not so sure about you woman,

darkness goes on and still,

a honey, a cutie, a memory.

Sabotaged..

Anything in common? Just wondering!!

mingled limits of caring, criticized;

busy pleasing stormy instinct,

triggered with anger, at last overwhelmed;

enough, nothing new;

bloodless periods; all year long;

state of worthless minds in difference,

thirsty for laughter, fatherhood;

craving to sings, lungs slaughtered,

after a thousand century of self-destruction,

his soul is finally healed;

again, via another devastation;

enjoyed a self-sabotaged youth;

differently raised up in pains,

damned; yet sabotaged soul.

 

 

Creeping Bleak

Grieved Irritations;

fear grainy emotions;

exterior frustration;

halting childhood dreams;

mercy broken youth;

around dark corners, doubt shimmers;

let me in, never mind the baby sitter;

grateful, the post man as usual;

new ventures generated;

every midnight at all;

faded satin dirt; endless endeavors;

getting slimmer; lovely night dress;

curves missing a touch;

Tango all the way to hell;

no partner, someone will be there;

somehow, if ever;

darkens; enjoy stinky alerts;

craving for sadness;

as ever; brutal nights;

adored her creeping bleak;

cannot complain it;

cried it last spring; what to do?

at least for now; complicated features;

squeeze hopes; escalate it;

spread it with oceans’ salted waters;

loathed blocked lungs; still ?!….

alone in the dark..

how long can you bear it?

a year, a lifetime, be it..

living on the edge of civilization,

refusal, denial, and many others..

fighting with in;

feel it, creeps approaching

knee, the need it

trapped at the corners..

dark, foggy basement..

they watch from the high narrow window..

laugh, then cry at dawn..

tear you socks..

yes the ones you got on valentine..

huh, damn poverty…

stink it.

back to the dark again.

never alone..

his stinky smell blossoms..

holla.

fear non mornings.

retrospective  falsification…