#iamfullofcoffee

For my words don’t stink.

Sting, it will every time you  blink.

I’ll make you shrink,

Don’t forget your girl makes me wink wink.

Go look for democracy, it’s not your drink.

Sit tight and hit the link.

How are we doing today? 

Struggling or strangling the life out of light?

Frowning or framing someone for his own death?

Screaming or making someone disappear in silence?

Dancing or drowning the world in desire?

Fucking or punching the last man on the earth?

Escaping or invading a young couples privacy?

Resurrecting or dehumanising the unborn?

Discovering or destroying the only hope?

I’m here to address the pink monkey in room, who has been struggling with finding his bananas and beans to brew. 

The jungle is green and also blue, but alarmingly wild, no mercy, no shrine only struggle, dare you defy. If you can, you must always hunt and leave no trace of white blood.  

“Stop talking already, will ya?

You all come here with a past, present and the delusional ones with even future too. A stage is burdened with your heavy feet, a mike is filled with your shallow words, a hand-full of empty claps and that’s not where you put a period

The mad house of lies is then wired online and it continues to multiply with its false preaching. The end doesn’t have to be near because it thrives on mushrooming like hope and leaving us with a reason to reason with truth.

The last time I used my pen, to scribble some words of wisdom was few hours back in the light of creativity and ache for fame. But to the scratch, my “cat in the bag” is intrigued enough to know, which force helps me to lift my pen and pushes me over the edge to blot the white souls of trees?

In my alter ego’s response, I believe it is the “ask”, the need of every hour and the desperation to make every word ring right in the temple of sonnets and rhymes which enthrals me to take the jump. 

You’ve been touched at the right time, at the right place on the wrong day. It is next to becoming a nightmare but it is also close to a sweet dream like a cool breeze flowing carrying the smell of black sea. 

The blanket is the only wall between you and my dreading escape route. It is easy to breach a fortress with a day dreaming and night slumbering army. They are paid a fortune to stand straight with an arched back only to enjoy sugar dough. And here is my fortress on the verge of getting vandalized by a not so foreign creep. 

The attack was uninvited but was well accepted with a lot of struggle and snuggle. It is not the end of the invasion just the beginning of an addiction, it is going to be epic almost legendary and will leave the most of us asking for more.