Pelt

I pelt at your feet.

That your fragrance may envelope me.

That I may continually experience love.

Inside darkened alleys…

God

“I believe there is a God. Some believe there is Only one. Some thought there is none. And some believe there are many. And therein concludes our little, little differences which gradually piles up into centuries old feud. And in our quest to seek the all powerful invincible God who largely remains invisible and powerless in solving world calamities, we became divisive and destroy others who believe otherwise. If humans were born of God, why aren’t we exuding the all natural traits of love, peace, happiness and forgiveness inherited us? Not unless we came from dust as some believe- dust, being residues of all things destroyed. Hence, our destructive tendency.”

Great Nation

“Poor people can be very rich and at the same time, rich people can be very poor depending on the level of accomplishment, satisfaction and happiness each desires. If everyone is made to feel that their smallest of contribution is important towards the daily life of a nation, if everyone is dedicated to the one craft they are good at that it inspires others to emulate and learn from them, then progress and modernization can be achieved without the fear of culture being lost. That’s what makes a nation great and everyone happy in the end.”

New York Facet 1

It’s morning now
Them New Yorkers hurried
Between cobbled pavements
And potholed routes
Stuffy subway stations
Littered tracks
Leaking ceilings
Does dreams began
With state of the art headphones?
Can life commute
Without common courtesy?
I ponder the pitter patter
As I gaze at their
expressionless faces
Looking over
them dusty windows..
.
.
.

remember me by

remember me not

for the bad things I

did not do

but for all the roses I

scattered on your fair

.

remember me not

for the warts found on my skin

or the greying of my hair but

for my politeness that graces

your concerns

.

remember me not

by the odds that

weigh me down

that made you wise

for it won’t come again

.

our photos have bleached

the stains has blurred

but as I outstretch myself

way up high

I could only see love

.

and feel the mood

suspended on the clouds

and that is how you

should remember us by

the umbrella that we held tight..

.

.

.