NsVs 0067

Contradict me your Oxymoron.

As would my fallacy upon the ironic melody of this life.

Please cut the core of my clue,

in the line of my twine.

Rope me then than now.

For all of wrongness of my shit.

Can come out,

Yet I still eat and swallow;

Every time I am in all of my juxtaposed ideas.

What I needed and wanted to be scolded and barked in front of me.


®Artsydhude 95-19



NsVs #0069

A gain of loss,

are the ones of my benefits.

At what advantage all those profits

turn into some disclosure,

than to be claimed as none.

Still the same as then at what now

can be understood,

never be comprehend.

Coz your eyes see none only to compare

the valley despair.



®Artsydhude 2019



X phacks.


Do the hand of my eye loves a sense of belonging?

Did my eye see the touch of the ears can not follow what is?

Then only in my mind my heart swallows its pride,

than to have a proud life not in shame nor care to blame,

the people left behind who never can follow what happened now

and be kind enough to see how much,

the suffering one can take.



®Artsydhude 95-19



X phacks.


What did my hands hear where the eyes did handle all of these?

When does my ear shut and why must my feet love this hobbit hole in which I am in?

How am I going to handle all of the answers even my heart does mind all of the motions,

and the feelings of all moments passes,

Only the love of a stranger ever grace,

all of this shit,

that I muster.



®Artsydhude 95-19


X phacks. B2.i

For the heart and of the mind,

Nor a love of a hand.

But a smile upon your eye or the wink that your ears follow.

Yet only by the love of a voice;

So please carry me into your life,

not anyone:

someone to be in your life, lasting and not lusting for everything.



®Artsydhude 95-19



A chance of happiness now is slim.

Don’t forget every single milliseconds despair,

and it’s cohorts are out there.

Chances are happiness is around.

Depression is the stress of all.

Come to anxiety to form it all.

Why worry when U can be happy.

Happiness is warm as fun.

Why then can’t humankind have such,

When all they do is toil,


and grovel at their feet,

to worship worry and weariness,

among all and above.



®Artsydhude 97-19



The day called out the night.

Right as the dawn told Dusk,

Why even meet me at midday,

When you can’t see me by twilight tonight.



®Artsydhude 97-19



Deal me a day,

Where your hand is 

my joker,

this life folds

as I hold and bluff.



®Artsydhude 97-19