Court

I sit waiting for my turn to beg.
Yes, there is a queue. A process and and a way
The queue is long, the neighbors are restless
The process is arduous, the decor is all of pomp
The way is sloppy deadly and dark
As you pick my brain through this waiting
I give up on my wish to beg. Let me go, so time can heal
Give it to me, snatch it whatever I have
What else, do what you want to do
Is my mind tender enough for you to pick ?
No, almost dying for want of succour
Yet you will ask. You will poke. You will hold me in limbo.
So yes I admit. can't give up on my wish to beg.
Beggar I am. Beg you to put an end to this

Put pen to paper

To put pen to paper when mind not attentive
Is an art surreal when boredom babbles
As the sounds of speech loiter around
The far away thoughts arrive as guests

The long lost rest knocks at the eyes
Warm assuring breeze caresses the hands
And I take a ride through the cozy unknowns
Present in this absence and absent from the present