Poetry

Helo

Helo

A king holds his seal firmly against wax. What a fool. The other will ignore.

Heat of the early autumn draws a cool breeze, free are thee. go forth, rush and trip, you will hit the cold head on. Walk and prepare, it is less damning

Willingly one asks. Answer never found from another. Fleeting heartbreak, others accuse.

Old poem -The year is 2021

Press play on the tape "click"

The year is 2021
The world is on its tip.
One side of the world is on fire.
The globe in under a pandemic.
And crime has finally hit the capital.

This isn't new.
But its something I've seen coming.
Haven't you?

In the 90s whilst the world kicked back in their kicks.
The hip hop game, gangs, blood and crips.
Oversees would love to reminisce
But they had invasions of land
Wars like in Gaza, they never rest.

Bullets carved by our taxes pinned to their chest.
Then all covered up nicely as per usual for freedom
But they didn't know the age of information has changed,
cannot be monopolised by one owner.
He who controls the narrative controls the masses.
Newspapers were no longer..

The Internet.
A platform for the whole world.
Twitter, Facebook, social media became the capital of information.
Lies were being called out.
Tv was slowly being unused.

Division was being seen.
The wolves were forced to be dressed as sheep
Trying so desperately to come up with new ways
Ah, he who controls the prevailing comment section of opinion wins.
Milions of government lackey profiles made.
Building Fake Enemies, fake parades.
New distractions, let's talk genders wage.
Fight amongst each other.

Phones being spied.
Snowdens justice of truth, but they all denied.
Democracy, Really?
Democracy is one of the greatest lies.
It only works for the bullet proof skin, the privileged whites and the filthy rich.

The poor were all alike.
High technology
But low life.

But you know what I hate the most.
Is that years ago.
I told you so.
But nobody would listen
I was the too serious, bleak to be captivating and
envisioned.
The girls just wanted to party, I was too future visioned.

And now the young have awoken.
Not those woke crowds and SJWs cancelling stuff, not those female only heroism but those that are doing it properly.
Calling out fake news and fake terrorism.
They see what I saw, but now even more.

Thrifting the old, Living the life of a vagabond
The kind of people I would have called family
Even built a family with..
People with my mind width.

It's a shame I'm alot older to them now, to finally find someone I could love with this frame of mind.
I guess the right time for me will never align.

The new age is upon us.
And I'm seeing something new far ahead
Would anyone listen.
I doubt it,
...So Here we go again.

I'm so tired

Drifting Wolf.

Can't believe this poem is already 5 years old.

Old poem off the Valentines series

1997

Dear Valentine.

The way you move, the way you love,
it jumps my heart back in time.
Back to 1997 although I was only thirteen
With an innocent yet.. Promiscuous mind.

I would dream to all the places we would drive
Across the plains of cities to empty lands
Under the scintillating nights.
You putting on the tunes of 80s and 90s retro vibes.
Enjoying all the melodies, the laughter, the somber and cries.

Cries of belonging, to finally be by your true lovers side.
The ride or die.

Such was my dreams of love,
I held for so long.
Yet it never materialised.

Fast forward twenty years,
as if it did not go by.
The car I dreamt was mine,
but no love could be shared.
A dream without you is nothing but a hopeless lie.

But now, here you are..
The most beautiful, ****, promiscuous women, with that twinkle in your eyes.

Vibing just like in my dream I had, long before reality
compromised.

It was never a far fetched dream
But I could never truly be me.
With the roof cut open
The freshest of airs and city horizons can clearly be seen
As you climb on top of me.
Cuddling, cherishing the moment
Of all my fantasies.

My Ride or Die Valentine..
You loved me for my dreams..
And for that my love of dreaming you will never die.

Drifting Wolf.

Old poem re adjusted -

Opening the roads

I sit in the car,
Waiting for her to respond
It's windy and raining
The cold is beyond.

She walks out of her home.
Black tights and in heels.
I watch her walk, my heart thunders
.. I try to conceal.

She brings me some cupcakes
How much more sweeter could she be.
She smiles so innocently.

Her long legs stretching into the foot well
My heart thunders again,
Captivated by her unintented spell.

We travel to pick up some coffee and Thai.
And then we start to make the drive.
We talk about the memories of each others past
It seems like my scars and her scars match.

We drive..
Just drive, thought to travel by the coast..
opening our hearts on the open roads.

Music playing softly to our own inner mental chords.
We park in the dead of night
Where the moonlight would normally shine by the lake side.
As we talk,
And I needed to ask.
For a hug.
She was surprised at that.
When I did, I asked for her back.

I just wanted to hold her..
It was silent..
My heart, was feeling a jolt, a buzz,
I fell temporarily in love.

Like a pre existing moment, I had no scars,
This small taste of peace was more than enough.
Stroking her hair..

I saw her feeling more cozy with her feet up.
This is what it's about..
All the moments that everyone chases for.
I have it here.

I turned her around.
Compelled but holding myself back..
This road will eventually end..
Should I turn back..
Or turn to open a new path..

I look at her..
I softly give her a kiss,
Holding her neck firmly, pulling her to my side.
Again,I look at her.
My kiss broke her armour.
Like how she broke mine.

The brave open roads, we both braved and crossed,
And now our roads have intertwined.

Drifting Memories.

Old poem - love letters & butterflies.

A.o.A .. all British girls want to marry British boys but not all British boys want to marry British girls ... I don't understand why a British man would marry a British girl ... yes , he will marry then , either the girl,s age is very low , or the girl here is very beautiful.... here , 30, 35 , 40 , 45 , 50 want British boy ...big delimma 😄