Summer Ballad

Summer Ballad


The sun climbs high on this warm afternoon,

bathing in the sun while dreaming on the moon,

lying on a hillside, friends are coming soon,

thoughts drifting in the breeze, this day I wish to seize,

but carpe diem lay quiet under the buzzing of bees,

and another breeze comes, the places it has seen, where is it from?

So the great oak shook, and his wisdom I took,

to piece together the next few pages in this book.

Laughter on a starry night, seats by a lamp post,

stories in a hot cup of coffee, tell me how the night goes,

the night carries on and the soft northern wind blows,

lean close,

memories of past years, look how fast time flows,

the setting sun dims, and the sprawling urban light glows,

an eternal night like this, only the blissful mind knows.

They keep telling you to stop living in the past,

add some liquor to it and chase it down with the fast,

holding onto reminiscence like the clinging frost on my wine glass,

drinking drops to endure the sour, and let the bitter taste last,

and the last taste, ends the authentic state of mind,

the only reality once lay there in that glass of wine.

Picking at the scab of a broken heart,

to re-open wounds is a true lover’s mark,

disgust, causing you to tear feelings apart,

old letters, old notes, this is what the beating heart once wrote?

Cold heart, new folk, tears racing down a sore-throat?

Four numbers, few jokes, intentions behind black smoke,

What she had said, that she spoke, what memories can you evoke?



Let me tell you a story of light and dark,
take this journey we shall embark,
into a world filled with greed and hate,
this man wanders soul-less in this masquerade,
and to all that’s said we can relate.
So he lives his life the life of being hanged,
executed by the white collar of corporate fame,
he trims not himself because profit keeps him tame,
so sane, this man’s power melts the line between true and false,
dancing with the devil he takes his last waltz,
so take one last look at this corrupted sight,
he works in the day but his day is without light,
the prophecy is told corrupted verses he recites,
oh masquerade, which mask does he wear tonight?

Slightly Crazy

The ground trembles,

the sky rumbles,

I’ll tear this fuckin’ world down and watch it crumble

to the ground, ashes and rubble,

burnt matches igniting this passion for trouble,

a subtle pause, for a puzzled cause,

I’m losing but I’m still hearing applause,

dragging behind me, my own tragic flaws,

and I’m walking, amongst a desolate ruin,

shattered glass, broken mirrors,

these shards, tell me who can

piece together these thoughts

like they weren’t a bloody miserable mess,

I confess, same faces, no contest,

I tried, being the best,

fell, down watching the rest,

from the ladder, paces getting slower,

destiny’s getting closer,

these fucking posers yelling and screaming

“I defy you stars!”

I’m well apart, idiots, the only one I defy is he who set the bar

high up the sky, but I, know one day

I’ll be the one to snatch the bar,

scratch these scars and I’ll push the bar,

set it above the universe and no one

can ever reach that far!

They’re talking but I hear no words,

reading lips they’re nothing but slurs,

listen up, this is how it works,

chase, you’ll never catch,

steal, you’ll never snatch,

thoughts, you’ll never match,

strike, and I swear you’ll burn and crash,

yeah, those pitiful minds better not try to

riddle these rhymes cas when I write I commit,

beautiful crimes,

there’s direction in these words, these useful signs,

understand this work to trust you with a criminal mind,

together we will walk this path,

between these sinful lines!



We all wish we had that easy button,

that bomb in a side scroller game which clears the screen

of all enemies,

that flash of light to eliminate all the problems we face

in life.

We just want to get away, even for a second.

Even for a second.



I’m coming home,

I’m coming home.

Tell the World I’m coming home.

Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday.

I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes.

I’m coming home, I’m coming home.

Tell the world I’m coming…



Shattered memories lie in a circle all around me,

glass shards is all that I can see,

broken picture frames, still the same, suggest a new destiny,

so gloom, so dark, I can cut the irony,

it’s irony, to have had a disfigured past,

and yet, still managed to get past, get by, and last

this long, carry on, just hope that I’m not wrong.

What’s gone? What’s left? Who’s next? What’s to long,

for? Have we still some songs left,


I can still remember the days when, life was just a page and,

with a pen, I could just write happy moments to no end,

there was no end, like a fairytale the plot was mine to bend,

and then comes a moment when things take a wrong turn,

the next few pages begin to burn, not too old, not too young,

yeah these matters are your concern,

still growing, man you’ve still got a lot to learn,

by now you should know that life takes no prisoners,

no prisoners, no jail, definitely no visitors,

one blink you’re here and the next you’re gone,

carry on, carry the burden with you and move it on,

the road is long, but every weight you add will make you strong,

life’s no fairytale so don’t ever settle for just one song,

in this life is where you belong, only exit when it’s your time,

you will know, the tune of your swan song.



I’m coming home,

I’m coming home.

Tell the World I’m coming home.

Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday.

I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes.

I’m coming home, I’m coming home.

Tell the world I’m coming…



I wake up next to half written poems,

outside, it’s still snowin’,

so I waddle to my waffle but it’s a late breakfast,

thinking why the hell don’t i understand this?

These lies, these divorce papers lying on the glass table,

Maybe if i stood up i’d still be able

to see past the dim light that doesn’t even burn

in my grim sight, I just didn’t slim right.

and my ex, yeah she’s long gone but she never died,

she’s just dead to me, so i’ll let her be,

When I see her pretty face in the picture,

I get lost in space and reminisce

about the times in school; “Rick stop staring.”

when I look at her infinite eyes,

what a surprise, to think that years down I can still miss

someone so much, must be love’s touch, a second-hand clutch.

What does life have in store for me? I don’t know, perhaps

a crappy professor with a letter grade D.

Sometimes I get lost in things, just to escape

the sorrows and sadness of life’s appertunances,

Things just don’t make sense, don’t you agree?

And now when things get out of hand,

Time doesn’t follow your plans,

What else can you do but defy the principles of man

and become emotional?

We are all the same, the same we all are,

I blame life.

Don’t be afraid; pain strengthens your every step,

Grab a pen along the way and ink your way out of this maze,

When you finish, I promise you’ll be out of the misery given to you

by these bleak days.



I’m coming home,

I’m coming home.

Tell the World I’m coming home.

Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday.

I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes.

I’m coming home, I’m coming home.

Tell the world I’m coming… ÔĽŅ


Comments: Don’t we all need to reflect upon ourselves sometimes? Just don’t be too harsh. ūüôā



I’ve found it, dropped it, lost it, now I’m searching again,

I’ve fallen, tripped, now I’m on my feet again,

the not too distant future is smirking at me,

he’s saying, “I’ve seen you hoping and praying, but once you’re here,

coping is not possible, possibilities always fall short,

a poor sport, you’ve always given up, you’ve never tried,

even for the practices you’ve taken up,

and after this, I hope you’re all shaken up.”

And the present, he laughs, saying,

“stop worrying about the future, you’ll do it when you get there.”

Forget the nonsense, just thoughts worth a share,

a look in the mirror,

an image of an overconfident kid who just wants to escape,

from the daily doings before expectations take

me from this fortress I made,

to shield out empty words, and let the hollow souls fade,

I try to evade, argument constantly,

but situations come up

so quickly and emotions take over instantly,

but I can’t tell if there’s really any hate,

and my pain, you know you can never relate.






surrounded in a sea of static, these noises terrify me,




for every take I miss, I promise not to miss the next, for my own sake,

do you, know of a feeling by the name of fear?

The only feeling I feel, how can I make this any more clear?


beneath it is a child who fears the road is too long.


My life is a storm and in it, it rains every single day,

the light is getting dimmer despite everything you say,

the sun rarely rises, to break the dawn of day,

even the moon hides her shy face just for the pitch-black void to stay,

then is it in me, to pick up where he has set?

Bear his excessive burden until all expectations are met?


because when the curtain closes, just how many roses will be at my feet,

armed with thorns, but a smell so sweet,



just another name,

row by row.

The Distance

Busy crosswalks at intersections have always had a strange feel to them. As strangers come and go, looks are exchanged between I and them. It is those looks that leave a small yet deep impression on my mind.

One look, one life, one story.

Maybe it was by fate that those strangers and I were to meet on a particular day.

Or it was by pure coincidence.

I personally am not a believer of fate. I am too insecure to believe in it. I want to believe that I at least have some control over the events that occur in my life. But then again, things happen… just because they do.

One look.

A glance into a stranger’s eyes. Let it not be ruined by poetic metaphors as “peering into one’s soul” or “his eyes are the window to his heart.” No. Realistically, eyes tell us nothing. Biologically, eyes tell us that person’s eye color phenotype. But it is not just the eyes that we must look at to understand. Take a step away from the painting, and review it as a whole. That stranger’s physical features, shoes, clothing, jewelry, walking motion all tell us something. Now, we can infer and deduce, and do a damn well job of it, but we will never know the master of the puppet.

One life.

Today our paths cross. This hour we are in the same part of town. This minute the pedestrian lights signal for crossing. This second I pass you. We share nothing, the wall between stranger and acquaintance never crumbles. You are just another person in this city. I am just some high school kid on his way to school. You know nothing of me, nor do I of you. Our paths cross in one second of the 86400 in a day. You are just another faceless figure to me, and I am just another nameless vessel to you. But yet, we meet, and your life is…

One story.

If I have the chance, I meet strangers just for the sake of discussion. Build a relationship through conversation. Form a friendship through stories. Waste the day sharing experiences. Maybe you will lie to me, forge unsolvable mysteries, and craft intriguing adventures that sadly have never occurred. Maybe you won’t. But I, I know I will dramatize my life stories, simplify the complex, and magnify the minute. For the sake of a better conversation. Your stories made you, you live in them, they are the foundation of your existence. We can replay the tape, laugh at hilarious anecdotes, and take a moment to pause at the grave. Stories are immortal.

So then I ask you, reader, what is the greater distance?

To be separated by mountains and oceans, astronomical units, and exponential empirical measurements?

Or to be separated by the barriers of our minds, that even when we are right beside one another, we cannot know of each others thoughts?