Three Things

Resilience, Resistance, Retaliation:

Squeeze a ball hard
It withstands the force
Pushes against the force
Tries to overcome the force;

There is resilience in resistance
And resistance in retaliation
Evidently too retaliation
Is a good show of resilience;

They blend and melt into each other
With little distinction between them
For one reinforces the other
To forge a spirit stronger than before;

When life squeezes you
You withstand the onslaught
Push against the pain
Try to overcome the adversity;

There is love in faith
And faith in hope
Certainly too hope
Is a good virtue of love;

With all that is said and done
Words are never really enough:

Life and the human spirit are
That much more than you think.

An Idea

Here’s one for you
The person who came back
But feels as though
Had just left;

It is not possible
That you are more reachable
That far away than you are
Just close by;

It was nice to feel you near
Yet it isn’t so when you are
Actually close because now you seem
So far away;

An idea: yes an idea
That is what this is
An idea and nothing more than
Something that doesn’t exist;

You’re a terrible friend
(But I still like you as one haha)

To The Sky

When nostalgia hits
It hits hard
Like the beat of an old song
Or the etch of an old dance;

You look back and smile
Wondering where the moments have gone
Where the people are now
And if all that is left are only memories;

Yet you smile again after
Knowing the present is good
That without all that is before
There wouldn’t be a now and an after;

What has past is best where they are
Unwritten smiles
Untouched faces
Untainted memories;

A faint remembrance

is enough.


The imaginative mind
Is a pretty scary place:

An invention of a person
A creation of a situation
An alteration of reality
A warping of what is real;

Dreams are but the manifestation
Of your greatest fears and hopes
All that is real and unreal
That lies deep in your imaginative mind;

It’s a bloody damn scary space
Enough for you to yell out at night
Sufficient to cause your heart to race
Potent enough to give life to things;

Get a grip on things:
I don’t know how to end this.

Virtue And Vice

Oh foul and vile fantasies
Stop thy whispering tongue!

Thou shall not commit
Blasphemy against the good
Corruption against the pure
Defilement against the soul;

Away with thy pleasure and pain
That which gives rise to vice
Speakst not in the same tongue
As that which encourages virtue;

Be done when the moon comes up
Be gone when the sun rises east
Show not thy face to the world
Better yet exist not at all!


A thousand, to one
No no no, they said
Maybe yes, I still say
Who knows, that’s the point;

Don’t play, with fire
You may burn your finger, they said
You don’t understand, what this is
You don’t know me, I said;

A comma, here and there
It still remains, a comma
Neither a period, nor a capital
A comma, that is what is;

What is it, a comma
Something in between, not sure
Good can follow, maybe bad too
It is what it is, if a comma works;

A comma is also, a separation
Who know who comes first, or last
The independent, no need for comma
The dependent, can’t live without one;

Who knows what a comma is?
At least it’s not a question mark.