STREETS ARE CRAZY

Honking is mating season here,
drivers make frog song feel fair.
Hurried races on the sidewalks;
stampedes amidst its tall stalks.

World’s going in one big hurry;
perceptive and focus all blurry.
All life reduced to sprints daily,
as peopled streets are all crazy.

Inspired by @faucon315

EVERYTHING IN TIME

How can someone so smart,
turn out quite so stupid too?
How come someone so loved
could turn out quite so cruel?

There are ever circumstances;
and ever always consequences.
As there’s timing in everything,
are also reasons for everything.

There is everything for its time,
like everything in its own time.

LIVING LIKENS

Sometimes circumstances
gets in the way of niceties.
But then certain instances
maketh their opportunities,
without warning or any ease

Taking the ride through life
feels like towed backwards.
Seeing clearer for your self
after you heard your words.
Living likens owing the Gods.

TIME IS ALL

We’ve all the time in the world,
until we finally leave the world.
There is nothing more we own,
Than the time that is our own.

All the time we have is limited,
as our use of it is complicated.
When we live out time in ease,
we live and age as we please  

LONELY SILLY MAN



Man’s a lonely silly single being,
all about his daily living business.
Owning where been, what seen;
gambling choices like any guess.

Faith comes and goes blindly,
everything done, a coin toss.
How each would end finally;
head or tail, it is a final loss.

LIFE IS AN ACT



All people act like little Weasels
Pretend Beavers and tiny Seals

Their selfishness is quite gifted
He who is told sorry is cheated

All relationships are personal
Nothing human is impersonal

All Life is an act as it is meant
No one should tell you different

CULTURAL HABITS

When last did you’ve a habit?
It just happened on its own
or you toiled and worked at it?

Not the filthy things you do
like smoking or biting nails.
But those tiny trivials we do

Like Indian nod; only they do,
the Negroid’s sense of Rythym
And the Caucasian’s damn ego.

TODAY VS TOMORROW



Once a race was in place
for today and tomorrow.
Today says a step to pace,
tomorrow rather they row.

Yesterday the only umpire,
who decided they just wait.
Thus a race we never hear,
tomorrow is today now here;
yesterday is always so unfair.

PRAYING FOR RAIN

When you pray for rain,
It says a lot about you.
Certainly your brain
has some sense too.

You doubt some science,
and have a lot less faith
in logic and conscience;
as in birth and death.

FUNCTION OF MAN



“The proper function of man
Is to live, not to exist.”

For it is life’s demand
To insist and not persist.

“I shall not waste my days,
In trying to prolong them.”

I shall use my time in ways
That’s fair to me and all men.

DIZZY



Though we’re unsure of a future,
We are definitely not concerned.
Our minds groomed in a culture,
Taught to believe all is confirmed.

The familiarity makes us all dizzy,
In likeness we cannot forsake me.
For love is not suppose to be easy,
That is why it is love not just like.

HANDS OF TIME



What time it is, is relative;
to just any moment in time.
Though age is cumulative,
it only slowly keeps in time.

These hands that tell time,
only do what we make them;
steering, without the helm.

STONED MAN



If stones could speak
and use words like us,
show us what we seek
reveal what was a loss

Will we believe them,
listen to their wisdom?
Or maybe just like them
we are stoned at home.

CAGED RIB



Found my missing rib;
taken many eons ago,
from man’s first ever crib.

Named every living thing,
even she who Woo Man,
she who changes everything.

Now all time is theirs;
though life goes onwards,
I am caged to all of hers.

APRIL’S FOOLS



April is here,
and we’re fools again,
to the mystery of life’s gain.

Magnolias and hail
sweet longer evenings,
fills our time with musings.

Easter on the way
seduced by daffodils,
wonderfully time always refills.

Inspired by @gotnomoniker

IT IS FOR YOU

I’ve caught the moon for you.
I will walk off the moon man,
Show him a thing or two too,
Count out his many stars too.

Watch me make all about you.
I’ll steal time, keep it for you;
Like your God, I will save you,
Show off there’s none like you.

HEADS OR TAILS


Toss the coin all your life,
Balance on edges of a knife.
Whither roam your own course
If life to you is just a lone farce.

Are you not lost in thought;
Like the canine who fought
His own tail round and round,
With its very head not sound?

ZEBRA CROSSING


Long nights had passed by,
I still stray into the dream.
My tears had filled my try,
My beaten milk isn’t cream.

Donkeys’ years pass on along
And made me an ass all alone.
Donkey’s oversized head belong
To the horses my very fate own.

The will shade appear itself
And I can not be too careful.
In crossing to my other half,
I find I am the Zebra’s fool.

FINE TIMES


Winners so abound,
Strapped and bounded.
Elated all around,
Joyously dumb-founded.

Those fine times
Speaks for all kinds.
Saying as do chimes,
That time do binds.

Rare times of winning
Brings forth the hidden.
Revealing all missing;
Like fingers in a mitten.

BREATHE



If you have a head ache
are you sick in the head?
When a body part break
does it mean it’s your end?

Take it a day at a time
each day again as bright
Chin up for it’s again fine
Just pause, chill and breathe.

PROSTITUTES


Most prostitutes are normal bodies,
Hard workers doing their oddities;
Which seem unpopular so visibly,
So they can continue to feed boldly.

Circumstances they try to overcome,
Upturned obstacles making them so,
Resembling every other fleshed bone
With less hypocrisy and shyly so sour.

They are not traders selling a bodily asset,
They rent out for material gain and power
Like the more popular, with more respect;
Unlike political integrity, with less shower.

HANDFUL OF CLAY



That simple deed you daily handle
Reveal so much about how you work.
Just as everybody carries their bundle
Of life’s joy and sorrow that will mock.

That piece of action you handle
Reveal your final piece of work.
Just like every artists’ own bundle
Of clay would praise and also mock.

CRAZED

My time is solely mine, mine alone

I walk it and work life on my own

My life is not mine; it, I just have

Long as I prowl safely and behave

I am not mad, just insanely crazed

Like all the many about, just dazed

I live somehow, alive like it matter

I’m only here, ignored like dirty water

THE WORLD IN A LITTLE ROOM


What you have seen before now
Is nothing like you will yet know.
Mountains higher than the clouds
Or galaxies from fictional worlds
Will flash before you in fast floods.

The breath of a lung transits
Or to anti-bodies a virus submits.
The skeleton of a lonely fetus,
As that of a Mammoth is shown us
And not a scene is ever a loss.

The Red sea had betrayed
The depths Egyptians embraced.
White Mountains of ice only
In the south pole melts slowly
As you watch it all so warmly.

Roof of this world up high
Marbles the earth down here.
Clusters of fish eggs hatches,
Soldier ant worker matches,
As its eyelids blinks its lashes.

The wedding of a Queens maid
Or a Roman shield in a pyramid.
A shark outwit a dozen sailors,
Unlike Caesar in a senate of traitors
Centuries ago showed their failures.

A terrorist and freedom fighter
Are both made a fire and its lighter.
A domesticated wolf devours a man,
For a just reason it is shown it can.
You enjoy the deserts heat under a fan.

Bloody vessels in vain roam a sea,
A ghost discusses and drinks tea.
The passengers of an old plane crash
Board same plane again and smash.
Wealth you see leaves you no cash.

Every conceivable game is played
By men, animals, plants displayed.
The thickest clouds parade the sky
On pillars Himalayans peak up high
Or over raging ocean waters they fly.

Dancing birds dressed up to mate,
Two collapsed towers dust their fate.
Deepest valleys in the ocean waters
Reveal their secrets nature alters,
Nothing else in the world matters.

Uproar of a stampede crowds on,
Boiling heat erupting within the sun.
Sudden death stills a pumping heart,
A sprints heat repeated from start,
The tracks appear your viewing mat.

Ash, gas and molten are experienced
Volcano erupts its bowels so tensed.
Frogs hopping on water incredibly,
Like a pebble tossed so skillfully.
Sand storms windowed luxuriously.

Satans countless personifications,
Lords every era that raped nations.
Dancers of every race, sort and style,
Every single bubble in a mug of ale.
You see the characters in every tale.

Sparingly dressed wives in a harem,
Cardinal’s son talk as you hear them.
A view beneath a standing Scots kilt,
Happenings in a billionaires treat.
Everything in sight, with every tilt.

Bullets leaving a steel chamber,
A pierced lung as all its air wonder.
Endless flocks of Pelicans go south,
Yellow Monarchs clouds flicker north
Their beauty fills the mind’s thought.

Angels shield a saint on a mission,
Nerves’ twitch response a decision.
Ant like pedestrians on a city street,
Unsympathetic, selfish, proud fleet
Leave tastes bitter, salty, sour, sweet.

Mans quest for unknown perfections
Blurs with omissions or commissions
Constructed aids in achieved means
Entertain, educate, inform all beings,
Yet humanity’s future it weans.

SHADES OF SHAPES


There’s many things to say,
in more ways as you may.
Look you see could just be
not what it seems to be.

That smile in bright shades,
simple with warmly shapes,
could be as dark as any sin
or quite simply not as mean.

WOE MAN


Place of the woman is spent;
through timely cratered vent.
She’s raging in her eruptions;
in her hair raising formations.

Still her place further reduces;
within every gain she chooses.
She’s the lesser man as before,
her sex ever breeds a new woe.

MIGHTY FLEA


And where are you off to
you little mite, busy so so?
To gather as you go through
borrowing to hide down low?

This wind that carry you
draws a ring as you sing.
For one that reigns so true
you live shorter than you bring.

Your bite is so you can live
like all who prey on fatality.
How true it is, in all who live,
That death is but a formality.

SUICIDE


From where comes all this dew,
Delighting thoughts with to chew.

Soothing pressures that boo,
But sound frightfully so lewd.

I grabbed the wind horn I blew,
For I alone do hear it so true.

A loss I think I’ll cause you,
The pains might escape a few.

My swift scheme hardly new,
Like good cheats daring who.

Life is the full pot of new stew
Emotional foot found with its shoe.

RACES


They get set, ready and go.
To where? God only will know.
Revolting round earthly tracks
Which knows not their tasks.

Their quests are not visible
Or even humanly sensible.
Competing with complexions,
Hairs, noses and eyes in nations.

What wins these long races
That recognizes their faces,
Will not justify the future;
For races aren’t their nature.

DATE


Silly days made our teens,
sorting out our teething genes.
Over those moons, new till old,
our hormones shiver their cold.

Tasting all those many dishes;
many we met with their witches,
Others we borrowed and mended.
But lots we created and trended.

The sting of disappointments sore,
betrayal and pain and much more.
Ageing fear is sour but it is caught;
yet still we trove amidst same death.

To all morrows we cherished
that date we shared perished,
and thank it so for that spice
it puts into this new date so nice.

EXPERIENCE








The child learns to be his own person,
as he ages and develops his own ability,
to endure life at first,
and its worries next.


But when he gets accustomed to enduring life,
and learns to numb out most,
of the sorrow he feels in it,
he then acknowledges,
that living thrives out of form,
if it discards its ordered laws
and professes its rebelling need for rules.


Otherwise that early instant knowledge,
of life and its subtleties,
would render a child hapless,
to a situation it hasn’t as yet mastered
and make life appear pointless from a very early age.


Just like a shooting star sighted from earth,
appears to hit no target,
life will appear to serve no purpose
but only serve a steadily distressing experience
by all logical human estimation.



FIRST PAIN



When I felt it happen too;
Like I heard and saw it too.
I died that day that I knew;
I was just me and not new.
Then alive I sprout out again;
Living as all do, after their first pain.

WE ARE PAINED



Yet again we are so pained,
For life has again happened.
We are not in the least shamed,
Just yet again tried and saddened.

Joys we shared once together,
Once more is reduced forever.
What time will number and gather,
This life will tear and end forever.

When another of us breathes not,
We put their bodies in the ground.
But their life time with us dies not,
For memories grow and are sound.


MUSA

In all of time and in all our lives
we will stumble on to one sure truth;
Man has nothing for all he gives.
Nothing is his but what he achieves.
His life lived is his legacy and fruit.


Adieu Little Brother.
I know I will bother
but I am rested still
knowing “Peace is still’

RIP MUSA

SO?


Let us play a game of trading places,
pausing triggers of mud slinging tongues.
Viewing with glasses that mirror chances,
We’ll find all toes fit the shoes it belongs.

ALONE


Taste speech my brother,
Crave for words in reply.
Yearn to see yet another,
To see, touch and go by;
For lonely is every breather.

AGAIN


Tomorrow will come again
With its morning and night,
Feignedly new with some rain,
In fervent dark and again bright.

PIGGIES


When I go to market, another stays at home.
If you had roast beef, another had the bone.
Funny how all cry (we); and still end with none.

TEMPTATION


Misty prospects in the skies
Yet this sun blurs the eyes,
While the bright light of day
Carries the whole mind astray.

The bride of shame courts
Yearnings, fantasies and lusts.
The comforts of home pushes,
Sins cold hands outside urges.

Can man sneeze or not
Or blink like it is his sort?
To run at first sighting
Or just dare all tempting,

This he never will elude;
His ways must all conclude.
Not all his wishes go to sea.
For lust, many beaches only will see.

THE MASTER’S BILL


How alone can one be?
Looking around, one can only see.
Life is one big school,
Lectures are missed by the fool.

Indeed the friend is in need,
Wisdom in the foe only bid.
The whole world could be wrong
And not hear a word in your song.

For fear hasn’t a say
Where bare hands cut hay.
The masters wishes are His will
And only He writes down the bill.

AFRAID OF COMMON FEAR


We’re afraid so much of necessary failure,
Of what others think of us and of the future
And the past gone and now; just afraid.

We seldom show our consuming phobia,
They’re pushed to sub-consciousness, left there.
There they swell up and fester; being afraid.

Our hidden fears create a climate of anxiety;
Scarcely knowing why we’re afraid, it is insanity.
But still we live on like this, basically afraid.