Simply logic, from the soul

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Off into the rainbow

Please believe me,
my hands are soft
and flowers rest on them
like my heart
and these soft words,
almost muted
for you

to you, whom I’ve rejected
and who has rejected me in return
to you, who travels far and wide
looking

I trail behind, distantly so that you don’t see me
knowing that I could love you

like I could love anyone

but you, this time

once again

and next time

trust me when you go to your room alone at night

I wanna be there

inside

and out in the wilderness

our sportive bodies, combined

trust me, I’ve thought all these things
amid my silence
and fake hesitation

fake gamble
but trust the wild
the trees, the buck that walks by the swamp in autumn rain

I’ll be standing there, taking photographs

wondering if you’ll see me, once again in my jacket like in spring-time
in these moments, when I feel the most unguarded

but I’m only seeing you in opposite times
you, just as candy-like and endearing

I could never amount to you

so farewell lover
goodbye summer, once again

’till we meet again

as I watch you from behind
and see you slow down with doubt
for me
underneath the rainbow

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The feeling of love

I believe in you
I believe that you’re real
I can be so stoic sometimes
but when I have emotions, I know that they’re real
I believe in this
I believe that this love is real
it penetrates the deepest of impermeable layers
it runs from head to toe
I’m nonexistent without it
there’s nothing else that matters
no religion, no age, no family, no money
no children, no interests, no talks, no anything
your name, in every inch of my body
just melting, like a fallen ice cream on a hot pavement in summer
rings of rainbow, growing in oil spilled streets
radiating skin, evaporating into thin air
every part of me, breaking apart and immersing with the earth
like an infinite sweet slumber

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Empty house

I know you’re there
sitting on the front porch of an empty house
in this perfection, I’d walk in
wrap my arms around you

warm lights flicker inside the room
in between our close, moving bodies

it’s dusk outside
the geese are flying south
it’s getting empty in this northern town
sometimes, we’re the only ones here

I don’t know how I’ve found you
in this lonely world
the wolves howl to the moon out here
but in your arms, I’m in a tropical paradise
the churning sea; the forming lava in your eyes
cover me in these white sheets
float away, in an ocean of desire

the bats flap their wings outside
whisper soft, funny things in my ears

the winds whistle suspiciously down the street
sing me a song;
cradled in your naked arms

light a fire
and drink into our depths
tell me things that make you vulnerable
by a mere word or two

fire in the room, fire on your lips
the dance like in a fairy tale
gentle love
and sweetness
of love’s drink

things are so easy, when we just let it be
it makes so much sense
that I discover you
when I wasn’t looking

and now the wildflowers bloom
down lonely northern forests
in between the dark alleyways
over the fallen leaves of autumn past gone

you’re the magic man
you turn darkness into light
you turn the cold
into springtime

anytime

we can live out here
when it’s you and me, and me and you
our bodies mingled, our hairs tangled
our fingers explored, tasted
for lifetimes

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Found

If I didn’t have a dream about the piercings on your tiny pink nipples over your smoothe, hard chest last night, I wouldn’t have found you.

It speaks to the way I feel about you, something distant and particular
a particular star in twilight that exists only within my relative distance.
It’s this gap between me and my illusion of you
that speaks in ways only my heart understands

and at times it overwhelms like an outpouring of stars
convulsing in and out
during its massive re-configuration

we wait for it, like that lonely soul who lives alone in the lighthouse waiting for a ship
or a deciduous tree in long winter
waiting to bloom, to feel the warmth

to see these types of activities before our eyes
to be colossally sucked into you like an avalanche before my open arms

to find you
after having awaited, after assumptions have been made, pictures drawn, dreamt, etched
since that first discovery
sprouting into
ultra femininity in me
that lets me understand your ultra masculinity
that lets you understand me

This man
who I’ve formed
sparkling in you,
piercing into my chest

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You have a nice forehead

I think about my slanted forehead, and I think about a portion of my Neanderthal DNA. Maybe that’s where it came from; back when Neanderthals and Homo sapiens mated, somewhat, possibly. There were many variations of “humans” back then; back when the world was much more diverse. Can you imagine how fun it would have been to play kickball with the Neanderthals? Or the Homo erectus? We could have been best friends. I would have been like, “I hate you, you’re different,” then realize that we’re all the same, cry, ask for forgiveness from nature, hold hands, sing in peace, and be best friends together.

My hominid best friends. Best best best friends. God, the more I think about them, the more I miss them.

Anyway, according to my grandma’s DNA, apparently like maybe two-ish percent is composed of Neanderthal DNA. She didn’t have a slanted forehead at all; it’s just something I assumed way-back-when in high school when we learned about the Neanderthals and I felt like, oh shit, maybe we’re related. Only few years go did I learn that people of European decent tended to have higher percentage of Neanderthal DNA than those from other parts of the world. Maybe that’s because these hominid species existed side by side together around Europe for a short lapse of time. Anyway, my grandma looked much more Caucasian than I do. As Indo-aryans, I guess it’s like throwing a dart; you never know what you’re gonna end up being born looking like.

Nevertheless, I like my slanted forhead, and my tiny widow’s peak that comes with it. I actually wish my forehead was slantier and that my widow’s peak was deeper because I think those are rare things, and I like features that are poignant and long; like long eyebrows. I’m grateful for that too, because I’m pretty much apathetic towards the rest of my features. The nose; god let’s not even go there. The eyes, god let’s not even go there too. But long elongated eyebrows, yep, let’s stay there.

People tend to base attraction on these things: eyes, lips, nose, chin, neck… I think. Anyway, for me, let’s focus on the slanted forehead and the widows peak, thank you very much. I don’t care if you don’t think it, but they’re assets you see, because

like one percent of the population notices it. So there. There you go.

There you go indeed.

So if you’re a creep who’s into odd things, you have my solidarity. Maybe we’re not creeps anyway. We find beauty in subtle things, right? Like things with subliminal flaws; like those people with deep smile lines or crooked smiles; things that show vulnerability.

But that’s just theory. When an attractive person walks by, we gawk. We fall to our knees and beg them to bestow upon us their magical beauty. And if not, we want to snatch them, put them on our horses and run away. Like how kings did to young women they found attractive back in the day. Or what strong women did to hot dudes. I don’t know. Carried them all, married then all. How lucky were they that they were born with the modern definition of beauty. We’ve been brainwashed by these definitions, making us all
pretty dense today. Maybe it’s time to redefine beauty. Maybe it’s time to turn all the ugly people beautiful.

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Dreams of being other species; shattered

Throughout my life, I’ve romanticized the animal world;

I wished I were a bird so that I could fly and go wherever I wanted

I wished I were an ant and thrived in a social and purposeful society

I wished I were a pet cat and slept comfortably wherever and whenever I wanted while the owner dealt with the politics of money and work

but now I see that it’s hard being these creatures in this present day world:

birds could get hit by man-made airplanes

ant colonies could be run over, discarded, or destroyed by man-made pesticides

An owner can imprison or neglect a pet

My basis has been shattered

do I really wish I were them?

I can’t belive this current post apocalypse type of a human society that I’m living in is supposed to be the “best”

But it’s just so shitty being a human.

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Whatever he is

My lover’s so far away
again
flashing through a bike ride
down lonely lanes, streets, shrubs, paths…

The clouds are heavy,
and the skies are bleak again
I can feel each cell thrive and shrivel in my body
I just want to be naked and sprawl on the great green grass;
get kissed by the soft white dandelions

I want to be this alive
amid remnants of my lover
scattered in thoughts
dispersed with the winds

It’s my dying wish
I just want to touch it…
him
whatever he is

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Colors in the city

When the cold weather recedes, the days are bright and the air is flowy and fresh
I turn into a majestic peacock
dancing for you, dancing to the tune of your love
you make me alive, even in my dying days
these city walls collapse, and it becomes paradise
I can live here, like this,
only if you’re around and if you want me to
hovering around your warmth fills these rooms during winter time
when sky’s beak; it’s fine
because I’m focused on your attention
on me
dancing for you in your favorite
color,
maybe yellow, orange, maybe olive
You say I wear black
but I hate clothes in that color
you say I’m a city girl
but I’m a nature girl
See us there…
on a cabana by the beach where the white sheets flow in and around us
caressing my lips against your face
it’s so pure and high; this love
but you make it dirty
with your creepy little mustache and the gold chain, wrapped around your neck
so distasteful in so many ways, I like it
this regret
so sweet you can make it
undercover hero in disguise
I see it in your blank eyes
guitar tunes all the way from the milky way
we listen to just one thing; our innate vibes
stumbling in between our glares at each other
you turn into the green almighty god of paradise
and I, your little dancing peacock
spinning and spinning and spinning for you

Tropical forests

are where we evolved from and forests are fundamental to our physical and psychological well being. They’re being depleted ruthlessly by greedy corporations who partner with governments to produce sad stuff, to sell us sad stuff for profit so that we can buy it, get hooked on it– to be less sad?
Don’t buy it–break free–minimize the demand–be the voice that spreads the message in the need to dismantle these ruthless killing machines that are wiping out thousands of species of plants, animals, indigenous humans, and poisoning the mental health and well being of the rest of the “economically” developed societies.

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