Song 100 – Oh me!

Now I’m not a man that can cut the chains;
the chains are born from my deepest blue veins.
I am not a guy who can make the world go around
the world is where I find it hard to stand my ground.
So keeping head down and ears up to listen
I take a walk but with no clue of the destination.
My psych doctor has a plan but she gives no pills
but this monster making me shut my mind surely kills.
It takes me time to get set and recuperate when unhappy
but unhappy times are the challenge time throws at me.
I guess the heavenly god could be testing my will but
finally I am struggling to pay all that’s paid in a bill.
I get a whiff of a rose blooming somewhere in a garden
but it’s faint though I’m standing near with senses hardened.
Let’s deal with it, I am far from that guy who nails it
in a crowd of people who claims what they want and bails it.
So even the best can’t stand in their friend’s defence
with guys like me choosing no tools to pick in offence.
’cause I am not a man that can cut the chains;
the chains are born from my deepest blue veins.

Song 99 – One angel

There’s an angel
who waits till you turn heel
and blows a trumpet to
accuse you didn’t wait enough.

That’s the angel who
pushes you to a 9 to night job
and gets you to grind and get
expelled with the boss’s cough.

The same angel bitches about
the renegade who takes chances,
cares less for honor and reaps
souls and benefits everytime it’s up.

Song 98 – Goodnight all

Goodnight all
like one you never had.
How life’s tad beautiful
and much of it mad!
So before tomorrow’s sun
shows us the road to leave
or go together,
in hope let us believe.
Before our faces
are the worst things
we each can’t stand,
let us dream that love wins.

Song 97 – Messing for money

I’m here to mess with any brain
till I get the gain, again and again
till there’s pleasure in the pain.

I fight no wars, just needs my love to reign
while I make a living kissing and just entertain.
All for glory, better than the gory
I steal nothing and I cook no story.
So, I’m broke and money is a missing that’s glaring
my conscience is torn, that sackcloth wearing.
So being modest and working on a payroll
seems like no more good to go on afterall.
So here’s what my unconventional arse
sits here to tell you; Damn! I hate the farts.

Song 96 – Psych in the face

Why the psych put that face on me?
A coat of white and a nerd I see.
Are you damning a date I’m due?
Are you killing my mind again? Are you?

Oh terrible fate that crap written
by a somebody who’s all rage like been bitten.
I think I failed enough and maybe last chance
is here to curse all to be forbidden.

Cut me loose you bloody moron!
What’s a life like thi‎s, always all wrong?!
Ah! Again the psych, putting a cross on me
on the clipped sheet that has my name upon.

Song 95 – Born strange

Born with a mind,
man of a kind.
Seen as a mute
with a life all screwed.
I write all kinds
of things that bleed
and cry and smile
as my soul may plead.
I bother who cares,
as I weigh my silence.
They find me a scorn
of god hurting without violence.
On fields of minds
with mines waiting cold,
I step on so heavy
on all feelings untold.

Song 94 – Just today

On a day when the cold wind blows
thinking of cooking a story that shows
I am so much into act of talking
I hope somebody will rather not stalk me
When the great rift comes in between
when one talks real about how its been
World is split wide open with craze
descendants a plunder, snatching the cake.

Song 93 – My trip

Where am I going?
Feeling like I did nothing
but kept rowing.

And when the dear ones
seemingly wondering
started loving and then annoying,

the whole theme changed;
There were more to do
on a bulleted list.

And finally the need of the hour;
that life is all about knowing
it’s a fate, not meant to be missed.

My old mailbox was flowing
when I logged in and saw
how rich has been my mind!

Then and now has been one trip
and wheels could be fast
but I’d be flying if destined.

Song 92 – Verse

I say, if all that clean verse
can’t save my day, but
I can’t stop to rehearse!

Verse is life, disguise,
but the veil is knit
with words that’s proof I’m wise.

Definitely, job is a thing
that can feed, clothe and means
that I’m officially cruising.

There’re days when I dream
that I can be the writer
who can go beyond and be amusing.

But when it’s time for answers
that my family asks up;
Those’re so practical and terse.

I can still keep under the carpet
what my passion is and has
such good feelings, none to regret.

So if some greatness is left
in the bag of soiled desire
that you can see is unique,

you’re looking at the same guy
who can’t predict but
can tell all that’s fed ain’t what we seek.

So listen what you read out
of the text so carefully written,
has some deep true giveout.

Please love the message,
not the so called brouhaha
that just pretends to be new age.

Song 91 – Simple

Love is simple.

You meet one; man or woman,

do some talking

on where you love coffee

and ride on a bike or

walk on the alley.

 

Wherever that goes;

the only thing that matters

is that you can’t love;

but love happens

and wind blows to no command

but to nature. So no pretence.