TRUSTEES

There was a kind hearted man

Who had a very rugged can

And used the burrowed name of Dan

To have many an aimless fan

He used a perfect pun

When he wanted to show he can

And bragged “my can does show I can

Because my can still lives like a can”

III

He said he once had a ban

Because of his rugged can

But he lived like the Bible’s Dan

And conquered the mind of the lion kingly man

His tales of that naught can

Can go far as creation of man

He claims it is just one

That the gods made for him to have some fun

Funny how that can was his fan

Funny how that can was rumoured to have played a pun

A pun of another using it to cease the breathe of Dan

And afterwards getting away by taking a run

FALLIBLE AND SOLUBLE

Here swoons the moon

And there goes the frowning sun

On hurtful pontoon

When moon times out, it

frowns and tears for sun to come

Normal these sad hurts

III

When the moon crosses

Sun in its time, dead witchcraft

Wakes to stir trouble

Fallibility

Is all, discipline; its call

That margin, so thin

HELL’S FURY

As none can chase chastity

In a smoking cabaret,

So must cabals never chase their hard targets

In churches

A caboose can be seen like chariots

And there would be no hidden caldera

To save the day

Get a sense of camaraderie to cajole

Prides hurt by you

For you know not when your hammer

Would land

Upon your heady conniving pate

You know that is your hell’s gate

Even angels have temper

I’m no different

THE PAIN OF PRIDE

He stirs

She stirs

Facing the opposites

Suppressing the love which wants to play

He yawns

She yawns

An evidence of watching with instincts

But all hands have been tied by pride

Some angry opener

In settled time

Left its ghost on the love birds

Now even in sleep, it occupies the middle

Their eyes never meet at day

They bodies never touch at night

Cupid of old, take out your charms

And exorcise their home to make them one in bed.

A PEN WITH A BRAVE INK

When brains fear strength

Chaos stands tall

The body of the pen

Must fear no muscles

Because its voice is the loudest

Let the pen talk

And the muscles bow

Power like that

Needs no coward for an ink

I am a pen

A pen without muscles

But I will never stand

To be crashed without my ink

Staining the land

DOPED IN HIS AUTOEROTICISM

Help! He finds pleasure in autoeroticism

Can that be considered cheating?

Who do I fight with for my partner?

Himself? Then I’ve lost the game

All the twinkles left the sky of my eyes

The curves have migrated from the contours of my mouth

Life stares down at my soul-less being

And shakes its head

What is it?

Am I not desirable?

Am I so horrible that a fake hymophroditism

Seems more appealing?

Someone should get me a cream to smear

Get me a lovable clothy skin

Get me a lovable lady trait

And get me out of this torture

This is pure torture undiluted

Fighting for one who is in love with himself

IF YOU ASK ME

If you ask me

I’ll tell you there’s no interest

Mice could live in your stomach

Tell it to others and they cry

Over their own stomachs

If you ask me

I know none cares

Write beautifully, if they’ve never stepped in your word house

Or wish to step in there,

They’ll shun and curse the thought

If you ask me

I know none cares

Your beautiful dress is all they see

Even if you pay a fee

For a perfect you

If you ask me

I’ll say shove it

Throw no fit

Just sit

And look for what caused it

FITS OF APOPLEXY

The day felt cold

My pride felt old

My eyes and mind run wild

My emotions run wild

The beehive was stirred by a stick

I took the wheels without eyes

Rejecting all the worried eyes,

Met the sun,

Which asked why I run

I looked but saw not and trashed the sun

Then it left my path

Bringing heavy darkness onto my path

I got stuck and cried my hard luck

I looked but none had my back

My fit of apoplexy left me stranded and lonely

To what end will I have gone?

My loved ones were those shunned

With no road, no sun and no beings

How do I move on?

I wish there is a pause on fits of apoplexy.

	amoafowaa on BRAINWASHING
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	dancingpalmtrees on BRAINWASHING
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