Allsorts

The winter wind begins to blow,
The ground is dusted white with snow.
The festive lights are shining bright,
To guide old Santa through the night.

Beneath the green and glossy tree,
Are boxes wrapped for you and me.
With shiny ribbons, silver bows,
And secrets that nobody knows.

The smell of pine fills up the room,
While sweet treats chase away the gloom.
The bells ring out a happy chime,
To say it’s cozy Christmas time!

So gather close and hold hands tight,
Beneath the fireplace’s glow so bright.
The best of gifts we’ll find today,
Is love we share on Christmas Day.

A man
Insane
Was burned
Inside him
He smiled
But it took others
To bright and dark rooms
He smiled
He was a bad omen
Oh I fainted
Thinking of him.

A thing
As black as a stone
Stared
But I got frightened
And hit it with an axe
It had cracks
Another hit
Lit
A light
In a paper
I pierced
The paper
But the next moment
I was in a cave
Oh I became the stare’s slave
Why I can’t move
I don’t know .

Shenzous iseous
(Crystals are)
Shar
(Far)
Lioth
(Life)
ies e’o’th
(Is finished)
Fakhio shem ghash
(All around moans of death)

Eight people have brown hair
Near between buildings are sheds
Globes are good for geography
Living near a hot place. Lions and giraffes live here.
In the South Pole it is cold
Start your journey at the South Pole
Hire an English shop.

We are all alone, not the kind with no others.
But with our thoughts.
Being alone keeps us together.
Alone is common, alone is sad, alone is said to be bad.
It’s the thought of not being whole.
And yet alone is all we know.

Oh! Little sun,
Oh! Little birds,
Come across the larger world
Shine like the diamond.
Shine like the gold
Then jump over the larger pole.

The tree is big, like a pig.
Elephant is large, turtle is small
The wind will blow when the lights show.

This is the poem,
This is the voice,
Which makes a child,
Laugh a twice.

There was a dark smoke
A fear
Then a gun’s voice was heard
A fight it wasn’t, it was a paradise
A slice, few shards cried
Humanity lied
Stairs appeared
The void was clear
It’s an astounding fear
Oh breaking of shards, everyone hear

Perfection is desperation,
A call to be not human.
To be famed but not to speak,
As shackles to your living need.
Living becomes thus a hollow tree,
Thus there, noticed but never absent,
To be that perfect you.
Hollow, abstracted, muted, never able to say…
Why this way?
Why that way?
And thus then you’ll realize—
That when the eclipse shows its face,
And you’re broken,
Your desperation to feed on compliance vanishes.
And you realize—
You’re human, not a machine.

The dynamic
Didn’t end his life
He wanted to die
He lied
One of the darts hit
He became a man who cries and laughs
A sudden movement of a knife
Takes his life
But, the murderer was him
The light goes dim