"Who said money don't bring happiness must have been an old rich senile man"

Counterfeit Lullaby

The downside of illegal dreams
Is that if cought you do the time
Not in the prison of the world
But in the jail inside your mind

And if you look to ease your soul
These aren't the lines you shoud've read
Because a warm and healthy sleep
Is not for those who steal a dream

Rotten cloth. A poem about life.

We roam the seas with paper boats
With paddles made of rotten cloth
Chances so small and so remote
That we will travel beyond the docks

How to write

   You have to master vocabulary and grammar. By writing you convey images. One good method is to study the classics, or articles written by professional literature critics that study great operas. Also your subjects should not be inspired by other authors. You are the writer of the scenes and also the director. It's hard work. Though writing may appear to many to be just a fad, a time killing experience in an infinite sea of wrong possibilities, words are limited. Life is limited and not a huge roam of possible combinations and permutations. Take a look at politics it's the most well written piece of fiction. Even your own life is a great novel, you just have to look at it from a creative and cold perspective.


I saw a man the other day,
The oddest one I ever met.
His eyes connected to a point,
His face in smile of sour regret.

He held a clock is his right hand
And stared at it, but was away.
Just as I took a closer look,
I saw it ran the other way.

Not to the right. Yes, to the left!
A time-machine by all its means
Trying to turn the hands of clocks,
It was portraying our defeat.


It craves my skin and burns apart
It tickles ashes through my heart
Never too quite to abide
Yet not so loud as to subside

Througout the cracks it leaves a trail
A geometry that will not fail
To rumble voices in my head
Always at night when warm in bed

And there's no doctor that could tell
What's the deep well in which i fell
So all I do is hold on tight
For all I have is a moschito bite


“Ridiculous”, he said
And punched me with a twist:
“One should forget the rules
Or use them for his best.
I say I do, I say I don’t,
Because it serves my goal.
But don’t expect me to be frank,
That would exceed my role.”

I stood and wondered with contempt:
“Isn’t that what I craved?
I followed you, and ‘cause of that
I must accept what’s next.”

It leaves me bare, or plainly numb.
But I have come to find,
That all the itches that we have
Will scratch us.
And not the other way around.

Big Bang

"Big Bang!" the Unknown yelled,
And all that is contoured.
"To some I'll be a God,
To some I'll be obscure.
To many I'll raise boundaries,
To few I'll be see-through.
To little I'll give green light,
To a lot i'll ban the draw."

"Big Bang!" I softly whisper
And try to understand:
"Am I the many, few or little
In this rotating realm?"

"Big-Bang" it's all I hear
Some billion years away,
And cannot temper tantrum.
"For all I know, it's quantum."
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