Teenage

My secret lives
In a medium-sized
Box I have to hide
In my garage

When I think
About it, it makes me
Nervous, it feels like I
Have to tell someone

It tastes
Like a spiky,
Hairy taste

My secret
Is still
And it doesn’t
Breathe

It is a brown
And green colour
It is old and dark
It has little
Black dots

This secret
Would have to be
A really big object,
It would be
Like
A very long rope

It feels like
If it is
Really big,
Long and spicky,
It feels like a
Dark and
Scary moment

It feels like
If I tell it I think
I would be in
Big trouble

My secret lies
In the bottom of my heart
It indeed has a bitter taste
But also
Somewhat sweet

A pointy needle that pricks me
And
A sharp knife that stabs me
Has left me an
Unforgettable wound

Red and Orange and Yellow
Will burn in my heart
And will always remind me
Of the good and happy moments

A sour sensation
Pierces into my heart
And has left me
An erasable scar

I’ve never felt like saying it
With fear of others’ thoughts
But the truth is that
The person will always have
A special place in my heart.

Our subject is an idiot
A feckless simpleton
A jabbering moron
A pugnacious snollygoster

He holds the most outlandish of beliefs
And outrageous of standards
And yet, despite these apparent failures

He is perfect

Our subject is a complicated matter
A pretentious hobbledehoy
A soft-headed lickspittle
An irascible mumpsimus

He takes every chance that he gets
And he gives every chance that he takes
And yet, despite these apparent failures

He is perfect

Some may wonder who our subject is
He is interpretable, although at the same time unidentifiable
Our subject may not be even be human
It’s up to your imagination

Everyone still wonders who our subject is
These traits I mentioned they may not even show
An anonymous pillock they will remain
Well, I guess our subject

We will never know

My big sister likes to wear my clothes
To go out,
Detest her getting my clothes
Because then I can’t find them
She says it’s her’s
But they’re mine
She takes them,
She knows it bothers me.

I like to talk about my problems with her,
She helps me a lot,
The advice she gives me
Is so helpful,
Never gets me into more trouble
She loves helping me,
She is competent at that.

I try to warn my big sister
About going out at night
Point out the robberies and fights,
Night is dangerous.
I wouldn’t like to see her
In hospital
I wish I could show her
The danger of
Darkness.

Where do I begin, where do I start?
The letter X you may ask now there’s no personal connection
I’d say yet it still troubles me day to day,
A hatred towards a letter
Now that’s totally bizarre.
The next question is
What is the use for the X?
Very little words need it so really what’s the stress?
There is no need for the X for your success

In the alphabet there is an even 26
But why not keep it at a quarter of 100,
Why not a lovely 25.
If we cut out the X
Our alphabet will be a nice fraction
It is simple subtraction.

In maths we use the X,
Mainly for long hard sums,
Algebra is hard
But X makes if worse,
Why not use another letter
For example an L?
I may be biased on this one
As it does start my name.
But X is so dull
And gives me a pain in my skull.

As you can probably see,
I really dislike this letter,
It’s really just not for me.
I will have to except it as I really must
But believe me if I could this letter would be dust.

I knew there was something more
then what you’ve said before.
But I was never in store
of your emotions
just an article you threw away
so I think everything else
is needless to say.
I got out of your way.
You are feeling better
by making me feel worse
in your last letter
it said it was a curse.

Oranges are orange like an orange
It is also complemented by the colour green
From the leaves of the orange
As you can see
This is not actually
In fact
A poem.

The roads are alive,
They breathe and operate
With all the complexity
Of an ecosystem

We all adhere
To unspoken rules
A remarkable cooperation

In the bottom of the food chain,
There are the pedestrians
Walking along the corners
Always out of the way

The trucks and the buses
Are at the top of the food chain
Sometimes unable to even see
Those down below

Bicycles make way for bikes,
Motorbikes switch lanes for cars
Cars swerve out of the way for buses
And everyone agrees that pedestrians are helpless insects

Such are the ways of the road

We’ve known each other
Since we were children
You’ve shared my brother
Since he crawled from the crib

Grown together
In sporadic bursts of summer vacations
Just like having a little sister
Weekly, monthly, yearly, we’ve met each other

I’ve watched you grow
As I grew myself
We figured out the world
In our own little cocoons

Now, as fledgling butterflies
We’ve a different understanding of reality
Which we can learn from each other

Let another year fly by us

Happy Birthday Tunnu!

Baisakhi
The year screeches to a halt
Fields of all your efforts await
School’s started its daily rhythm
All rusty parts are lubricated
Crops are ready for farmers;
Slowly, the wheel of life starts chugging again
As one harvests
The fruits of their efforts
Happy Baisakhi!
Here’s to hoping for a year
Which was better than the last