Meet me by the corner

Meet me at the old cafe by the corner. Will you be there?
I can’t wait to see you even if we are only six weeks old
I don’t know why but you have something that mystify
You make me feel like saying that I am just a boy
waiting for a girl by the old corner cafe – melting
You know how I killed the pain? Got nothing but time
Passing me by as I imagine our bodies up to the sky
with nothing but chocolate, coffee and cigarettes
spending time with our silly smiles and giggles
waiting for you and nobody else – in my mind
waiting by the old cafe growing old with you
I am by the old cafe – will you be there?

 

 

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Words Again

I am sick of your words and wordplay
Making me mad and mad again
The moment you said your verse again
I wondered if you would laugh again

I stand strong against your words today
Making me go round and round the bend
The moment you preach your love again
I wondered if you would croon again

Stay away from the books and verse
Making new words and new plays
I have to stand firm and stay away
From your words and words again

Shopping Malls and Motorways

beneath the pathway white
see the silver light that gleam and shine
of the chimes and clicks of hard metal might
hovering cars and motor bikes

my money, my time and my half of a life
ghosts and phantoms in the arcades
the fair lady and the gentle man
eating and prowling and dancing

how empty those wide spaces and narrow places
that snakes and charms our merry faces
and the sun shines and all that in-between

basking in honeycombs. what lucky fools we are.
of soft satin sheets, of wired mechanics
of fatty acids that winds our bodies down
with drips and drabs of yesterday’s rot

underneath false hype spiritual
that silver light still shine
hovering cars and motor bikes

Another time and another day
where we hop on the motorway
Spending money, time and life away
watching soundly as the twilight
fades over the crimson bay

Trump Dreaming

If you suspect that the American Dream is out of reach
just think of Donald Trump and the millions of people
he carried. carried from the west to east. carried
from the south to the north. carried with nothing
but a loud voice and the American Dream. nothing
but flesh and bones. nothing but million voices
broken by the weight of the machinery and chains
broken by the weight of the kings and queens
weary, lonely, abandoned and suffering a loss
that takes a while to spread and infect their
fractured bones and souls. believing in change
stifling. grasping. applying the brakes. break
out of a claustrophobic assault in order to live
to survive. to thrive. to change. a medicine so
bitter that a bitter pill is better than sweet
promises of something same. rebels that won’t
go home. but dreaming of american dreaming.
dreaming of solace and dreaming of something
of an eternal return. american dreaming.