Morning Sun Midnight Rain

Every morning, I open the curtain
Hoping for some sun to pour in
Some days, I get a shining radiance
That gives a majestic illusion of permanance
Only to have it take a break
Almost exactly the very next day
When the clouds roll in and the rain pours down
Thunder roars, lightning flashes all around
It showers the city with acid and carbon
Melting away concrete that took weeks to harden
I watch as the city slowly fades
Into the sillhouette that was once my escape
A place containing many a memory
That I’ve recorded in ink and written down as history
Awaiting in silence for the sun
To sing its song of frivol and fun
To dry up the gloom of humid rain
To illuminate the paths that few dare to take
To warm the frozen hearts that roam
Around this street without a soul
To shed some light on the lack of humanity
That takes place in this atrocity of a city
Maybe the sun will shine again
Well, it will… but who knows when…

MG

Urban City

The low growl of construction
The echo of city rhythms
The flashing lights on the street
The metronome of life’s beat

Sirens all around
Noises, so loud
People scream for no reason
Regardless of time or season

Boxes and lines everywhere
Humans scattered here and there
No matter where I look, there’s a distraction
Divided into multiple factions

The rich on one side
The poor undefined
Everyone else is in the middle
Trying to get through their own riddles

Would it ever end?
Or will we continuously pretend
That we’re satisfied with all this mediocrity?
That we weren’t destined to break free?

MG

World Puns

She said she comes from Limerick.
I thought she said “I like limericks”.

He, however, came from Labrador.
I thought he had a labrador.

“I want to visit Hungary,” said Hugh.
I told them “Hugh is hungry!”

My parents had a nice trip to Bath
but did not bring back a bath.

Brother wanted to visit Turkey
so I bought him a roasted turkey.

I met a girl from Boring, Oregon,
totally thought she meant “Oregon’s boring”.

“I’m from North Yorkshire, a place called ‘Crackpot‘…”
I said, “Thought crackpots were illegal…?”

Good Grief, Idaho
Gore is in New Zealand
There’s a Hippo in Kentucky
and a Hooker in Oklahoma

Imalone in Wisconsin
Innaloo in Perth
An Inchmore of Ireland
is Antarctica’s Inexpressible IslandĀ 

Did you even know…
How long is the flight to Howlong?
There’s a New Erection in Virginia?
No Man’s Land is in England?
There’s Nowhere Else in Australia?

Obama’s in Japan.
Ogre’s in Latvia.
Pussy is in France.
Rectum is in Netherlands.

There’s a Ragged Ass Road in Canada
and Searchlight’s in Nevada.
Arizona has a Surprise
and England’s got a Thong.

All these names make me Uncertain, Texas
but Zap, North Dakota
Whynot, North Carolina?

 

MG

I Come From A City Where…

I come from a city where…

Kids can make computer games
But don’t know how to ride a train

Teens can ace quantum physics
But have no clue about budget sheets

College kids can start revolutions
But with love they’ve no solution

Thirty year olds still watch cartoons
But can’t define platoon or harpoon

Forty year olds still live with mommy
But convince themselves they’re free

Fifty year olds try out kick-start companies
That last no more than fifty two weeks

The sheer existence of intelligence
If not balanced is meaningless

This city is filled with educated idiots
Whose lives rely on widgets

MG

I’m Not Lost, Just Displaced

When I lack direction
They give me religion

When I lack discretion
They squelch my questions

When I challenge regimes
They corner me into the mainstream

When I seek advice
They tell me to sacrifice

When I ask for help
They tell me to save myself

When I offer my assistance
They react with resistance

When I show my presence
They criticize me for pretense

When I grace them with absence
They sense the suspense

When I try to improve
They ask me to move

When I try to take a break
They shower me with headaches

When I act like myself
I’m a demon from hell
But when I embrace civility
I’m denying reality

When I fail
They silence my wails

When I succeed
They start to proceed

When I decide to just “be”
They tell me I’m bored and lazy

When I assertively take action
They want a piece of the faction

When I talk to humans
They sense my commotion

When I disengage
They become enraged

It is not that I am trying to please
Each and every one around me
But if I am to admit, honestly
It’s that I can’t find my place in this city

 

MG

 

Protected: Two Lads and A Lady

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Strolls Part II

(Trying out a new style)

 

Buildings, buildings, all around
Clank, honk, traffic sounds.
Bamboo scaffolding, held up by zip-ties
Prolonging a moment in a realm where time flies.

Preoccupied by a gentle grip,
Glimmering glimpses of “sweet lil’ bits”.

Complexities, confusion, structured chaos surrounds
Simplicity, serenity, calms the storms around.

The moon shone brightly, resting atop a roof
–of a construct ever so foreign to me;
this territory was new.

The clouds swayed and drifted into the distance
An enjoyment of this unencumbered innocence.

The water — still as could be,
— reflected the moon, vibrant, present.
The boats docked, uninterrupted silence
Passionate simplicity, peaceful, pleasant.

 

 

MG

In Light of Lightning

In light of lightning
With positive on the rise
Negative always falling
From afar,
The charge.
The polarities , the gate-ways

The realities

The weight-
-ed truths of futures untold

As time unravels at the speed of light
The echo
The vibrations
The accommodation
The adaptation.

Adaptation.

That is essentially
What we , humans
of human nature
Were created to do.

The intent
The lack of pretense
the masks we wear
Conditioned to our forefathers
The foregrounds of aftermath
Instead of unlearning we are
Recreating
A flagon of confusion.

Flagon.
Wagon.
Wagonwheel
Bandwagon.

We all hop on it at some point
Hoping it would take us to where-
-ever it is we thought we would be.
But for what realities
To recreate
To reincarnate as a
Physical entity
Bearing a mind
Body
Soul
All wrapped into that same
Human shell
A skeleton key
That unleashes
Whose form of dream , fantasy
Colliding with presence, present, reality.

Future unravels
Unfurls
At the speed of light
But on a stormless day
The only light
That radiates
Is that star
Around
which the world
Revolves.

Revolve.
Involve
Revive.
Revolt.
To no longer be deprived of human nature,
The unconditioned self
The junior
The minor
Hiding in the dark
secretly retaining a spark
That can only be ignited through
The unshattered unscatteted parts
Of whatever it was you were creating
Deliberating
Debating
Recreating
Understanding
Understating
Under-evaluating
Under-rating

Contemplating
Commemorating
Considering all things
Unconsidered
Inconsiderate

Boundaries.
Why ,
Boundaries , the antithesis of liberty.
That liberation for years and a lifetime we seek
But why, on earth when it’s gifted
To you after years of relentless battle
After years of trading up your cattle
Upgrading
Uptaking
The uprising. Why,
The boundaries the lines
The conclusions you’ve drawn
All for the purposes of sacrificing your pawns
In order to save the queen
That version of your princess self
Yet to see
Your inner “queen”
Whatever it is you think that means,

Life is not a game of chess.

And even if it was
At the end of the game
The king and the queen
Return to the same box.

MG

30.4.17