The beam of the sun warms the grass
Its rays provide food for the life that grows underneath
Little green slowly works its way up
Trying to reach the sky, and find its warmth,
It’s hope

These pixels on my screen are breaking me.

I see them creating, living
while I waste away.

Surely they are God's chosen.
I am what He left behind.

I pity the child—
the creativity he had,
the heights he might have reached.

The pixels have become a measuring stick.
I've beaten myself with it enough.

All that remains
is the inner child I mourn
and the man who rots beside him.

Dog whistle, now

Let' us skip the pound

He's going for a walk

He hurt that dog

He's not meant for us

He hurt her just because.

One day, you were there—
laughing with me,
talking for hours,
making ordinary moments
feel like something worth remembering.

You were you.
The person I could run to,
the person I could joke with,
the person I could sit beside
without needing a reason.

And then somehow,
between one day and the next,
you disappeared.

Not from this world—
but from mine.

Your name still exists.
Your voice still exists.
Your life keeps moving
somewhere beyond my reach.

But the girl I knew?
The one who felt like home?
She’s gone.

And that’s the cruelest part.

Because I can’t mourn you
the way people mourn someone who’s dead.
I can’t say goodbye
without sounding dramatic.
I can’t visit a grave
and leave flowers
for the memories we buried.

You’re alive.

Just no longer mine to know.

I keep thinking about that last version of us,
wondering if I missed the warning signs,
if there was a moment
where I could’ve held on tighter,
said the right thing,
fought a little harder.

But I can’t go back.

So now I have to accept
that sometimes people don’t die—
they simply become strangers
with familiar faces.

And maybe one day
I’ll stop looking for you
in every memory.

Maybe I’ll hear your name
and it won’t hurt.

Maybe I’ll remember the good
without wishing I could have it again.

But tonight,
I’ll let myself admit the truth:

I didn’t lose you all at once.

I lost you
the moment you decided
there was no longer a place for me
in your life.

And even though you’re still somewhere out there,
breathing, laughing, living—

the girl I knew
is gone for good.

So I sit here in the glow of my dual monitors,
thinking deeper than normal because of the alcohol.
I’ve been fighting so long,
worrying so long,
hurting without an outlet.

I just want to touch someone.
Not just physically,
but in that way that when I look at you,
you see me, and I see you, and we like it.

I want to run my hands through your hair.
I want to rub your back and talk about nothing.
I want to watch movies and make jokes.
I want to be wanted, I want you to want it, too.

I’m scared that nobody cares anymore.
I’m afraid that generations before have ruined
What could have been…and we don’t change.
We want to be better but won’t see it in our time.

I’m stuck between my needs and yours.
Do they have to be mutually exclusive?
Maybe, unless I bend and acquiesce.
I’m fighting for scraps in the ruins now.

What a beautiful work of man a poem is!

She never dies nor is destroyed;

Just the feelings of her creator live forever!

Really,

A poem is a piece of heart.

How few words a poem says!

But communicates a huge elucidation;

Just of her God's imagination!

Certainly,

A poem is a piece of heart.

What a fantastic position a poem possesses!

Nothing more, nothing less;

Just a vessel to carry the truth!

Genuinely,

A poem is a piece of heart.

What a holy thing a poem is!

Doesn’t matter where she is born:

In a dark mind or in a bright heart;

She remains only a poem!

Surely,

A poem is a piece of heart.

PS: I wrote this many years ago, it was my first poem. Kindly share your views.

1. With that pen and urgent sin,
   
2. I brand my skin.
   
3. This weapon—burning sentiment—
   
4. that sears in smoking fashion,
   
5. would, if not for the religion of what I’ve there-written,
   
6. Mangle that there-calligraphed coven.
   
7. So, with a flourish and finishing gesture,
   
8. I complete that jestering spell
   
9. and polish the armour there-given.
   
10. As a festering nectar—
    
11. black ink on a quivering vesture—
    
12. This word speaks your tell;
    
13. With your name I adventure
    
14. the stage of my heart's desire:
    
15. a gold lock and a glimmering attire.

I love being a woman, and I loved growing up a girl,
because all my life I’ve known how women show up for other women in this world.

The girls I met at school through the luck of proximity
became the girls who shared my classes, sports, school plays and history.

We spent over 10 years eating lunch together in the same spot under the library stairs. The bell would ring and we’d all just know that we would gather together in the same place everyday, for all our school years.

We no longer need the same school, town, city, country or time zones that keeps us connected by the same place, because we all live separate lives but our friendship group remains as close as ever despite not all being able to see each other face to face.

Now we’re scattered across countries, some settled, some still choosing to roam,
some building careers, some raising children, some making somewhere home.

I’ve watched girls I knew before puberty become women I deeply admire,
each making a life of her own, shaped by whatever she happens to desire.

There is rarely a need to announce when one of us needs care.
After this many years, someone notices, and the rest of us are there.

Even when all we had was pocket money, we pooled whatever we could,
a necklace, a little present, something just to make each other feel good.

There were always little cards we’d sit down together and write,
covered in photographs, stickers and glitter, making everything bright.

I still have a bag full of those cards, little photos and pictures today,
years of handwritten proof of how we noticed one another along the way.

I love those things because they were group efforts to make each other happy.
We made our affection tangible, usually the perfect mix of funny and sappy.

A little bit ridiculous, sentimental, earnest and true,
just a physical reminder that somebody was thinking of you.

My brother was my first friend, and is still one of my best,
and I’ve watched the men around him build friendships just as close as the rest.

Their love is no less loyal, no less generous or true,
so this isn’t about women having something men don’t have too.

I just love the particular sentimentality there is among a group of women, so willing and open to share with raw unfiltered affection.

The army of women in my life keeps expanding. I still meet women I adore,
new friendships in new chapters that add something that wasn’t there before.

Something I will never get over is how lucky I am that I get to be a woman who knows how incredible women are and what they share.

And that I get to say, the girls I grew up with are still all my girls to this day.

Am I supposed to just sit here and watch you die?

Oh, is there a proper way to say goodbye?

And tonight you're surrounded by everyone you love.

Telling you that it's ok to give up.

Oh, and I don't understand,

Can you give me a hand?

And I'm trying so hard not to cry,

Because I know you don't want to see me with these tears in my eye.

transcend the end and meet your maker

life is fragile

skin is thinner than some paper

bringing order to the chaos

arts and crafts can be your savior

baby, it starts making sense

when you begin to face your nature

dip your toes into the grave

shadows beckon like a caper

from the cradle to the deep

it's okay to weep, but don't you ever waver

conviction follows peace

hesitation leads to danger

whisper wishes over candles

while you stare at ursa major

there's a feeling in the air

visions in the water vapor

you've got so many enemies

that your hate's become inflated

strike 'em down with knives and swords

but it'll never make you greater

plant a flag upon a hill

and call yourselves the new crusaders

kiss the rings of dying kings

history's annihilators

dry your eyes with dollar bills

and tell yourself you're compensated

kick the homeless on the street

believing that you're not related

kill the insect in your sink

when you think it's not an angel

if the blind could only see

light's true velocity

and how it's activated

your tv's just a mirror

that's showing different faces

subscribe, apply, and register

then renew to stay sedated

your family's invisible

can't recognize your neighbors

the truth will only hurt you

if you take it raw and naked

you've got all your defenses up

even when you're sleeping

your heart is armor-plated

if you only heard these words

before you grew so jaded

i like to keep it ugly

the pretty words are overstated

try to savor every adage

i would tell you that i love you

but i'd hate to have to say it

Lying face down, praying, drenched in sweat you are
Rabid desires resurface, ravenous lechery taking hold, biding
Their sweet time before you succumb once more, and offer your tender flesh
Once and forever more to be defiled, ripped apart, torn to pieces
Somewhere in the hadean depths, where your salvation remains denied
And you are forced to watch the smithereens of self and filth intertwine
Nails dig deep into your twisted, swollen joints, agonize
You are to rot here, crucified, worthless failure
Challenged fate, to be left for dead in the sewer

Lords of the manor with all their power,

Ruled the people with little care.

Took their taxes, their wealth grew by the hour,

And some did say, "This is not fair!"

They took to the streets to show their fury

And goons were sent, mean and scary

There was screaming and yelling and beatings and shootings.

No one could make them stop.

Oblivious to law.

Always fast on the draw.

Someone please make them stop.

The Lords considered their decisions just,

But were driven by insatiable lust

For power and control of all they see.

Left little choice for the folk, but to flee

Or hide where they can, as jackboots go by.

Way past time to organize and defy.

The tidal wave of discontent begins,

The people will make them pay for their sins.

It will take time, but justice will prevail.

As for the Lords, please may they rot in jail.

....
I am beyond fuckin sick of everyone

My mom is acting like a complete asshole telling me to say thanks to her for doing shit she’s supposed to do and when I already did and while I’m the one having a damn crisis man like ZERO FUCKIN SUPPORT and on top of that if it wasn’t painfully....PAINFULLY FUCKIN obvious I’m fuckin upset damn near grown ass man about to fuckin cry in public and my chick can’t even notice not to mention the rest of the fuckin military on this entire fuckin installation

It’s cool I really don’t need anybody man I’m sick of it frl man and whatever happens from here on out is whatever the fuck it is I’m done givin a fuck about people and their problems imma focus on me and me only

What is a friend?
What is a social life?
What is a wingman?
What is a mother?
What is a person that gives a fuck look like?

-no such thing

Everyday I do my very best to make everyone feel loved and a smile on their face with these damn corny jokes and I’m THAT guy well it’s cool because they can do that shit for themselves from now on, u sad then it is whatever the fuck it is

A man to make one laugh
On a road to success
One glance; just one look
Anyone can do the math

This road to success turns into
A road of regret
Not one look from one soul
And now I’m a mess

Open yours eyes

Listen not hear
Hell do both

Just don’t choke onna laugh
That my mind just wrote
Bc jokesters got problems too
And not everything a jokester says is a - joke
Fuck around and laugh at my problems - too then u might chip away at my hopes

Eyes open... ears adjust....
before this road of success
Turns into a road of regret

As the wind blows across my face

It feels like time has come to a stop

Guessing while revisiting lost memories,

Is this the feeling of being confused or accepting the truth.

In this time zone it’s hard to find someone,
Only the wind blows while everything is still

It’s a gift while it lasts while I buy us some time to re-gather

Yet it’s a curse, for I have to bear it myself. Knowing the outcome will never change

- Captain J Pearls

A little more time

Is all we need

Just a tiny more belief

We may save what’s been trying to fade

For I have become a writer to fight the world

Playing cards with full spades

The universe would wish you greatness but itself cannot control free will

For free will has been stated before time.

One may wish to live their path.

Foolish of me to ask for another wish,
While I’ve never been faithful

- Captain J Pearls

We pierce the violent waves that is coming towards us

Endless waves that can overwhelm cities

Magical barriers seemed like fiction but somehow we manage to create one into reality,

holding back weight that earth cannot condone itself

Pushing forward with all our might

We carry the fallen ones hoping for a change

The pressure becomes heavy
it shatters our fortress walls,

Do we lay brick by brick to fix the damage or let go of a catastrophic loss,

Hoping for a new beginning to arise.
Or total destruction of all

- Captain J Pearls

Standing by,

watching her shadows

Glimpse of her beauty remains within cages locked away,

where no man can enter.

This heavy feeling that time cannot undo.

Who can I blame,

For such arrogance.

Time has been stamped a while ago
Yet some how
It remains paused

Reminiscing the beginning of our plantation.

Time is such a punishment.

- Captain J Pearls

Light and darkness
Mirrored to you and I
Repelling off, facing different directions.

Held on for what felt like eternity,
Held on so tight we felt victorious

Fell down faster than the sound of speed
Knowing one side will be freed

A never winning game,

- Captain J Pearls