Alter Ego

 

I'm an expert on the less affectionate things

I have passion for the darker phenomenon

So attracted its more like a jinx

Unlike others I fail to blend like a chameleon

So I ask, "What is it that craves the darkness in me??"

"Where from the satisfaction gained when I see the adversary being hailed as the rosary??"

There, in my absurdity I kiss away the pending victory…

 Scraping the ink off history

I'm just applying my darker alter egos; doomy and gloomy

Confession is, you are listening to the prophet of doom

I smell it from a distance and I don't even need to zoom…

I don't give respect for free just because you are a goon

I would rather run from a twisted tongue

Even the son of the morning shivers to a conceited monk

For senseless is being proud of a proud nature

Despised even by the darker "me"

For loyalty and respect is accepted in every scheme

Revered and hailed in every kingdom

Rejecting these mythical legends casts you n a sitcom

These pieces of disjointed words are candies of wisdom…

NQM®

Dec, 2011.

Just A Poem

I know this is the worst time to write a poem…

But I cannot resent a genuine feeling…

This is the story of my life tormenting me like “Bio-Chem”

It is just a pint of understanding I'm seeking…

Like the bottom of my treasure chest is leaking…

Reeking of defeat when seeking emotional healing

The thought of this catastrophe sends me reeling to the ground…

She calls my nightmare a privilege rarely found

My breathe turns into a sound of a struck hound in bondage

Bonded by the heart and rejected by the head…

My young blood already feeling the hinges of old age

The irony of an unqualified love is like an old woman's cleavage to a youth…

Worthless as lyrics to the deaf; Senseless like a newspaper to an illiterate

Aches in the joints, screams of silence; echoes of arguments

A home of chaos and a land of absurdities…

Feels like I'm competing in “The World's Craziest” after auditioning for “Mr & Mrs Egocentric”

A heart venture looking like a bad joke… Now, its just the dignity of love carrying the “mafia” yoke…

Don't blame my conscience if my heart is broke

Wishing I wasn't the bearer of this ink… but its not my fingers but my heart ascribing this scroll…

NQM®

2011.