Wednesday, June 27, 2012


The most sickening city there ever was
happened on the inside,
and remained overpopulated with the scum of wishes aborted midterm,
bastard offspring driving wildly through the avenues of his skewed reasons.

Every disturbing citizen rushing towards downtown, where the festival took place
as the sun went down and incinerated the urban maze.
"Chaos bleeding", you would say, but rather subterranean than exposed,
subtle confusion that bled into every wound of asphalt that pulsated,
living organism without a living purpose.

The grand mystery, lacklustre in nature,
inspired not even the mildest glow of curiosity:
how such complex civic structure, in such a terrible shape of inherent disarray,
did not crumble into itself, left to the dust and vermin.
Maybe some fault is to be held against the foreigners that treaded the poisoned land,
with healthy hearts and solid bones to offer, and willing to breathe out clean air.
Still, no effort has proven enough to bring light and stability,
leaving the streetlights forlorn
and the insides hurting ever closer to the core,
before returning to form.

A society is yet to be born.

Monday, June 18, 2012


If north depends on where you are,
what is ever certain or solid?

Facsimile maps of self are fraying,
flawed rivers not flowing,
landscape broken but
wielding a compass,

You kick feeble, familiar rocks off the way, into a cliff,
for no other reason than to learn.

Is south where you are, or were you
even willing to be?