Living for this short time,

In this desolate world,

I know I won’t like to be a woman,

Not because of inferior physical features,

Nor the unfair cruelty of the world

But only for the sake of getting my period,

Quite uncomfortable they seem,

Or solely for the sake of pregnancy,

Decisions that have to be made,

To carry another life for nine months,

Whether it was planned or an accident,

She is a vessel of life,

Both mine and yours,

A good world depends on,

All the action she makes,

Her tongue can strike,

Unending fiery strife,

But if a good teacher,

She brings up brave men,

Who knows the value of peace?

She is the other voice,

All men should listen to,

A fountain of love,

That she is,

And comfort and protection,

Many boys cry for mother,

When things are painful,

Her tears are like ointment,

Softening stings of each wound,


Her embrace is angelic,

For the calm it offers,

Would she lose all this?

The world is damned,

She is a mountain,

Of strength,

She sleeps last,

And sleeps light,

A part of her awake to any harm,

Facing me however the miles away,

She arises before the sun’s,

Glory is nigh in sight,

To be the start of a family’s

Pleasant day for years,

Without falter nor complaint,

Her back in persistent pain,

She has endured with joyful love,

Oh woman you are my pride,

Twist man and woman,

There’s a rift,

Each kind of unique to the other,

Existing to complement,

That which lacks in the other,

Even if given some opportunity,

Won’t we rise to varying potential?

Creating such a stiff competition,

A great component may be lost,

You should ascend to our admiration,

Yet not lose what joy,

Was intended for you to bring,

If all women were,

Each other’s rock,

You would climb much faster,

Out of being trampled,

Woman is woman’s greatest enemy,

Her jealousy is venom,

Poison for all around,

Each of you is a rose,

A single rose is cut so easy,

Bougainvillea grow together,

Never alone,

What vision of beauty and strength,

Be so!


A woman to me.


The Last Vow

And if I go,

While you’re still here…,

Know that I live on,

Vibrating to a different measure,

Behind a veil you cannot see through,

You will not see me,

So you must have faith,

I wait for the time when we can soar together again,

Both aware of each other,

Until then live your life to its fullest,

And when you need me,

Just whisper my name in your heart,

I will be there.

A Solemn Promise

I may not be able to give you sunshine without moments of darkness I may not be able to give you old, diamond and silver. I may not be able to offer you all pleasure imagined in life but I promise you happiness. I promise you the sunshine of our lives together. I promise you my hand to old even in those dark moments you feel alone. Walk side by side with me for I promise you myself but unfortunately I already hurt you the first time and so you might hate me to my last dying breath.


Kiss me she said,

Not there but there,

Where it hurts most on the mother of all scars,

But after you are done then really kiss me,

Again she perplexed him,

On she went about an action so innocent yet so touching,

He knew nothing of this wonder but he trusted her,

Like how a child trusts a mother,

But there was more,

Kiss me like no one has,

Make it soft but rough,

Make it sweet to the point I lick myself dry,

Make it tender but too pure,

Make it the god of all kisses,

Yes the perfect kiss she thought,

Don’t let it be lip-wrestling but lip-locking,

There in the light of the setting sun,

On the top of a burdened hill,

Next to a juggernaut beautiful tree,

They made art,

He kissed her so softly,

Similar to a paint brush on a soft canvas,

The kiss so perfect,

The born of a Leornado da vinci kiss.

The Beauty Of Books


It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds. The world of books is the most remarkable creation of man; nothing else that he builds ever lasts before replaced. Monuments fall, nations perish, civilizations grow old and die but after an era of darkness, new races build others. In the world of books are volumes that live on still as young and fresh as the day they were written still telling men’s hearts of the hearts of men centuries dead.

System Of A Down


Another awesome breeze,

Penetrating with no intention to freeze,

Defecating, believe me, very devastating,

No intention to please,

With it goes happiness,

And in the void, creeps in a mix,

Not an elixir of life,

Just a perfect brew,

By a perfect brewer,

The next Johnny walker,

Of loneliness,

Then the promising sadness,

Slowly, just like seething pain,

Life, incompletely, deserts my body,

Leaving it,

A system,

Of a down.


In my head is a collision,

Of two worlds – no resolution,

I can’t tell – no prediction,

It is my cross to bear,

Heavy it is, loaded it remains, forever packed,

Your pain is my transgression,

It is my moderate discretion,

Maybe your discrete moderation,

I rule me, I rule myself,

On the pitfall of a delusion,

I rise to choose between right and wrong,

I choose you, my right and definitely my wrong,

My peace and my war,

My content and my lust,

As written in the formidable hall of fate,

I am to be your savior, the seeker of truth,

Corky it is but you are my own rendition,

And probably my downfall.