I dream of living in a tropical paradise
Cooling myself, drinking exotic teas with lemon and ice
Surrounded by green foliage and pineapple palm trees
The air is fresh and smells like a coconut breeze
Hot summer days and deep blue ocean beaches
Savoring colorful cocktails with mangos, limes and peaches
I would take off my sandals and allow the sand to sink between my toes
Feeling the seas salty waves wash upon my feet, my spirit grows
Island honeybees playfully dance around hibiscus flowers
Tropical fish bathe to the sound of citrus showers
My body becomes golden by the smiling orange mango sun
as I collect necklace sea shells along the shore until I’m done.
Tap, tap… on my shoulder
I suddenly feel colder
reality has just hit
next to my keyboard lays a pink slip
my boss has found me at my desk day dreaming again
just when
it was getting so nice
in my fantasy of a tropical paradise

From my heart I expand
to the digits on my hand
I take my pen full of ink
and let if flow without a blink

The mystery and magic I find
hidden in the secret attic of my mind
are spilled on to these once blank pages
Freeing me from realities cages

This is where I remove my disguise
no more secrets, no more lies
My imagination comes alive
the beauty surrounding me is my drive

as each piece and plot is composed
A peek into my heart and mind is exposed
From heart to hand to pen to ink to paper to reader
The canvas is my imagination feeder

This is my poetic form
from which lines and words are quickly born
Filling the page they build my tales
Here my heart and soul unveils

It isn’t me that you see
You see what you want me to be
You think you know me
You think you hold my key

You try to tell me how to behave
You want me to follow the wave
But it is the truth that I crave
I will follow my heart to my grave

You are scared to step on my land
Because you really don’t understand
I am not made up of your strand

I will not follow your blind command
There is nothing you can demand
That I will do with this hand

Your ignorance I will withstand

The Employer
The government has contracted me
To break the enemy code
I must solve their toughest riddles
On my shoulders there lay a heavy load

At my hands,
Our nation’s security lies at stake
Yet, I’m not distressed or concerned
For there is no code I cannot break

The Hack
At first glance, it appears to be
Full of meaningless words and useless digits
With no connections or relations
Just random pieces and pointless widgets

With another careful look, the formula is revealed
The design is full of numerical expressions and keys
I calculate the patterns and form an algorithm
That will put this codes equation at its knees

I examine each and every detail
Careful not to make a fault
If my calculations turn out wrong
the progress of my decryption will dead halt

The Crack
This puzzle once full of dimension
Is now cracked with its own pieces
With a map to this labyrinth now in hand
the meaning of the code releases

The Forgotten
The authorities thank me for my help
My job is done, and I’m ready to go
On my way out, they stop me and say
I can not leave, now there is too much I know

They take my notes and all my papers
They steal my life and terminate my career
Forever in the governments cloak
I disappear

This is my writing style bit
With you, it may or may not fit
Just for a while you will have to submit
This is how I go about this craft
My heart and mind is my guiding staff
I don’t know about rhythm or rhyme
I don’t know even know how to meter a line
I do not follow any poetic chart
Still these verses come from within my heart
I have no knowledge in artistic writing
Yet the light bulb in my head keeps lighting
It doesn’t really matter, can’t you see
because these scrawlings are especially for me
I simply release all that I hold inside
for this, there is no definite guide.
Even this poem is not metrically planned
It just flowed from my heart to my hand
Who says I can not compose
a poem about my writing pose
because I’ve just done it
and you’ve been hit
with my meterless
writing style bit

Tis’ in the bathroom shower
Where my ideas have their most power
Under the steamy hot cascade
My very best stories are made.
Behind the foggy curtain veil
Poetic tales of magic set sail
Covered in gentle soaps and suds
my spirits creative magic floods
to my minds rhythmic peak
and then down, it does leak
through the tubs infinite drain
gone forever from my brain,
to some dark sewer pool
lays my lost shower fuel.

I’m going to pierce your mind
with my lyrical genius twists
Your head will swell up
by the beat of my Iron fists.

Come, bring on your finest writings
Prove to me you’re something more.
Show me some creative magic
I have never seen before.

“she loves me, she loves me not”

Come now, that’s all you got?
Your muddy words are such a bore
Your nursery rhymes are so outplayed
Your nothing but a copycat whore.

Here now, let me show you how it’s done,
I’ll strike your one good crooked eye
With my supernatural verses
You’ll be left blind, wondering why

And I would reply, I do not follow your ways,
for I have the lyrical punch of my iron fists
And the poetic kick of my kung fu shoes
With which you’ve just been fatally kissed

Since you do not understand,
this poem is written just to entertain,
with your surface thinking minds
you’ll think I’m boastful and vain

it doesn’t matter,
because now you lay there slain.

Read Part 1: My Kung Fu Shoes