I breath with faze,
moving my feeble soul around
making me fidgety.
Fumbling every time my mouth move,
My words turning equivocal.
My face is dark with rage,
Laying my head on my pillow at night
and the hurricane in it lits up.
Hoping to eradicate my tears,
Wearing my smiling mask,
Bunging my legs on the floor
asking how does happiness taste,
A conundrum question.
Raising my hands to sky
hoping to pray.
Invisible tears flowing like river.
But I keep fighting to stay alive.

I am wholeheartedly in favour
Of feminism, it's so great.
Women's rights are so important in this world
After all they comprise over fifty percent
Of the human race
And they do the washing up real good.
I just wish some of the more militant bitches
Would stop bleeding all over
The toilet seat:
It's fucking unhygienic.

We are an image of a god that
has been smeared and battered with mud
We are the fallen,
Descended from grace
to be kept in a place of turmoil

anyị ahọrọghị ụzọ a,
akara aka dugara anyị

The gods played a prank on us,
They gave us a beautiful lie called Life
Our lives are a puzzle
We try to unravel each day

anyị ahọrọghị ụzọ a,
akara aka dugara anyị

We are jinxed!
The rays of hope is dimmed
With our sufferings,
We can only bask in agony each day

If you win, if you lose,
In success and in fail,
It is You whom I choose
In my heart to prevail

You're the heart, you're the soul,
You're the air I inhale
You and I ? We're a whole
dearly held in peace and pain.

The morning battlefield lay still and grey,
Its silence broken grimly by the groans and screams
Of wounded, broken, bleeding, crippled men.

Then gently, slowly, through that desolate scene
Came an Angel all dressed in nurses' kit;
She wandered, lovely as a cloud, starched in white raiment,
Giving head unto the maimed and dying.

"Me, me" a legless soldier feebly called,
More in hope than serious expectation
As he knew he was not looking his best.

Hell is for children, terribly sad but true
Prevention's the cure, least that's my view
No one wants to know about it, let alone dwell
What sort of people can put kiddies through hell

Only youngsters, growing up dazed and confused
Bashed by their own parents and verbally abused
Big tough alcoholics, just drunken cowardly thugs
Spend all of the money on booze, or worse, drugs

There is no front
no far behind
all is now but dreams
in one's
once sexy/fishy mind

we'd wished we could still
grind
but now just
have an imaginary
aged mind

Keeping the finale
in the fast breeze
just relax
don't yourself freeze

body of all humans
is of the same kind
we live till nature does
us naturally grind
and
like autumn leaves
leaves us far
in the doldrums
of lost
forgotten time

Family is all today
a small fragmented part in society
still continues to together stay
all others are friends
who lisp mostly

who expect a loved one will ever kiss
one fading into oblivion
hoping one may stay
with love and affection
if it comes one's way

you are lucky
that I must say

New York still welcomes you
till this day

Bloated swollen cheeks
analogous to first Chinese Brother,
who swallowed the sea,
now non sequitur
off beaten track i.e.
less apropos re: guarding
par for race course as if

ace driver won Grand Prix
latter referencing international
horse race for three-year-olds,
founded in eighteen sixty three
931 + 932 = above number
satisfying ghost of Fibonacci.