in the first place i do not really rhyme
not that i can't but i don't because i like it to be just that
like my life, i do not really rhyme with the world
there is more conflict
than harmony, i do not jibe and jam well with
yes, anybody, it simply takes time for them to really understand me
more more time for me too to understand them
and like them
and like me, as though living life is just a matter of liking each other
period, and not really trying to learn and be compassionate
and have this little sense of tolerance
this sense
of perhaps, he is just ekking his way to a steep mountain of his
trying hard
(copycat) of just trying to live in authenticity
honesty, that is the simplest word we can say
i always think of other things
sometimes people are just cruel
they want patterns they want people to be like other people
setting models
and trails made also by men and women with the usual human brains
poor judgments come and we do not bother we simply want others to
live normal lives
nothing deviant, shy away from the genius of ingenuity
trekking new paths
not minding the dangers of the unknown spreading like a red carpet
before our feet
back to poetry, this is my poetry and by now you have noticed
they are written as they come inside my mind
no patterns no molds no shape no expectations no
AA BB CC DD
just plain talk, spontaneous, like a tear falling from your eyes
shaping itself to pain and then falling without style
like a candle melting to the fire and shaping itself
in the air
there is simply no dictation of where and how and what
like ourselves our lives like chocolates in the box
of Forest Gump
we just don't know what we really get
we just let go
and let live and then die and be buried
tears for a while, and then
yes, forever forgotten.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem