With a click off thumb and middle,
Skin Separates from skin,
Suspended in space and time,
Equal sections, spread equal distance.
There are radiant green shards of light and energy,
Echoing and surging through the gaping hollows.
Atoms divide and become rival.
Chromosomes sever and revolt.
The human fabric is exposed and scrutinised.
...euphoria.
Then with blunt, undisguised melody,
Another thunderous snap,
And the peices jolt back into slumped composition,
And all that remains is agony.

Yul Bryner hath rightly said
''man is born... lives and dies alone...''

I add on
then why moan?

we all are alone
born and die
in many a similar way
some live long to see others go
some die ere even others know

today as everyday
I read obituaries
some one of 1917 born is still not dying
another of 68 went passed by
even your gods don't know why

I have come to colonize in the name of, oh! what's the difference
I'm here now, so it's
my way or the highway
oh! that's right, you have no highways, no roads at all
unless a goat path counts,
which it doesn't,
because I define all things from now on,
and a goat path is definitely not a highway.
sobeit.

The furnace hot breath blows
the little family sleeps
while outside the roil of snow
snakes its strength
past the trees and posts
etching with cold
this resolute beauty fast

Throw on an old familar jacket
worn tattered
and shoes with a torn lace
a collar patched on to thwart
the winter
no hip name brand
keeps me warm
mitts on each hand

this lighter burns alive
the stub and I marvel
at how life goes on

and near but unseen
the Winter Plow like
a beast thunders past

GENESIS

I cannot stop the sun from setting
and the day from ending,
I cannot stop the world from turning
and Time from flying by.
We are creatures subject to greater forces,
faulted individuals, imperfect and insignificant
in the Grand Scheme of Creation...
And we all suffer from the same malady
that brings us through the same journey
and the same end.
We are born to die and pay a harsh price
in pain and suffering for the Life
we are given.
That is the Grand Mystery
cruel and unforgiving,

I hear the sound of crumbling bone

The vultures breath is warm however laboured

It's thoughts are tunnelled... savage.

Feinding, forlorn and floating.

The blurring smell of blood and innocence,

A blinding sense of disorder.

Who knows better the sensation of nature?

Not I,

For I am ecstatically preoccupied.

computer lah land
where is the sanity
when the mutiny
tries
nece pas

As I ride
I want to take you
to the far side
though me and you
stayed in the same place
looking for my fortune
let me grew out of touch
aint flashed a smile
for a long while
to concerned of how
I gonna provide for my family
my thoughts takes me back
of who can I trust in this cold world
as I roll I grew of a strong will
rolling uphill I battle on
even though it’s a long month
I tag along
it’s the last day now
it shouldn’t be long now
before I can smiles

if you do recall

I had promised you
you will get across Xmas and new year too
my prediction has come true
through new year2015
poems many more you will compose
and in you all neopoet does confidence impose
as per some repose

happy be the light
the tomorrow
as and when it comes
no one knows when
not for one....

Give this site the fillip needed now
your poetry is read by all and how
cause you are
the ALIVEST POET now!