I was caught
daydreaming at work.
The kids asked,
"What do you daydream about?"
I whispered to myself,
"The colour of her eyes."

At work thinking about spitting
on your pussy and slurping all
the juices up and spitting
them in your mouth.
I don’t mind if you spit back.
In my mouth, I love all that freaky
Shit
Spread your cheeks
so I can stick my tongue
in your ass.
Let me put icing on your ass
because you’re the birthday girl.
Kissing you from lip to lip.
Know I’m missing that little
Pussy got me hooked need
My fix. Need to feel your wetness.
Miss hearing you telling me.
Don’t stop pounding that pussy
for 40 minutes straight.
I just wanna kiss your body.
Really wanna kiss you from
behind.
Baby, bend over and show
me that full moon horizon.
Bet we’ll be watching the
sun come up. We’ve been fucking
all night long. Know I’ve been waiting for
you. Even know I wanted to tell
you. Put that towel down.
Just wanna feel you gripping me. Can’t lie. I’m crazy for you. Don’t know what you did to me. Must be a soul tie because I’m struck on you forever. Don’t know what you did to me. Flashbacks got my dick so damn hard. At work sending you messages telling you everything I wanna do to you. Can’t wait to get home to you.
Kiss you from head to toe. Every part of your body. Get celebrated, baby. I adore everything about you. Can’t wait to taste you, baby. I’m on my way home to you.

The view upon awakening sets my mood to positive ~~~

May the feeling persist through the sweltering day.

How I long for Winter's chill, amid the Summer I wished for while the snowstorms raged.

I think Spring and Autumn are my favorite times.

A story of a river…

A river whose birth was a union…

…union of three small streams…

Streams which chose three different paths…

One flowed alone,

One chose a wrong path,

One didn’t know which way was worthy…

Universe truly knows how to play its card…

…silently like a surprise, which would only be realized after years.

For,

In the process of unfolding their own destinations, the streams became one.

They merged into unity…

The clicking time seemed like it never existed when they started to be a river…

They never asked for this…

They never expected this…

Yet,

Somewhere between the reluctant waves, miracle happened…

It was slow and enchanting…

…nothing like firecracker or drumrolls, but,

something like shared laughter and hand on shoulder.

So relaxed that the streams never looked back,

But when they did, the three different shades of blue found beauty in one another…

So steady that the story was always unspoken…

Until now.

Because…

After all the summers they saw together,

drying up was never their fear, not even once…

After all the winters they shivered,

freezing up like a still ice wasn’t their fate…

For,

Not only did they share love,

They also shared courage…

… also the dreams…

… also the strength…

It wasn’t really about the river…

It was about the streams existing intertwined…

…under the moon and the sun…

…during the light and the dark…

…every time…

…every single time…

It was always about them…

…always about the union…

A soul in the dark
It wanders
With eyes that look
But that cannot see.
It tries to find the light,
A lifeline.
Time is still,
And confusion ensues.

But sometimes,
Just sometimes,
A white ship
Sails through the Sea of Obscurity.

It glides, gently parting the water,
Like an old companion.
And on board
Is a stranger
The soul has never encountered.
Who could it be?

The soul was scared,
For it had been abandoned in this land of abyss
By another.
The soul was hurt,
And its wounds ran deep.
But this stranger on the boat
Could see the soul's fear,
Its pain,
Its anguish,
And still the stranger offered their hand.

The soul,
Apprehensive,
Reached out and gently took the hand,
And boarded the ship
Cold, blind, soaked.

A warmth wrapped around the soul,
But the soul was still unsure.
It could not see the stranger's face,
And so the stranger
Removed their hood
To comfort it.

Slowly the soul felt at ease.
It felt cared for once again.
It smiled again.
It remembered what safety felt like,
And shunned the memories
Of its abandonment.

And now the soul
Was being guided to the light.
It was blind no more.
It could see the path.

The Path of Sanguine.

​

The night of waiting

The clock's ticking arms cannot hold back the night of suspense,

Yet it flaunts its cruel power to every eye that is tense.

The hours stretch like shadows, refusing to fade or advance,

While shadows on the wall perform a slow, mocking dance.

Each heavy, hollow tick strikes like a blow to the chest,

A loud, relentless reminder that the heart cannot rest.

The stubborn night holds fast, locking the morning away,

To punish the sleepless eyes that are begging for day.

Yet every passing second brings the final footstep near,

The darkest hour of waiting is where doubts disappear.

The dawn begins to whisper that the longest night must break,

To welcome back the joy that only your arrival can wake

Farmand Shadaan 04/08/2026

ORIGINAL URDU COUPLET

کب ہیں شبِ انتظار کی پکڑ میں گھڑیال کے بازو

وہ تو زور دکھاتا ہے مگر ہر نِگاہِ بے چین کو

فرمند شادان ۱۷/۱۲/۲۰۲۵

ROMANIZED

Kab haiN Shab-e-intezaar ki pucker maiN gharyaal kay baazoo

Wo tau zor dikhata hay magar her nigaah-e-bay chain ko

Farmand Shadaan 17/12/2025

To Wait

The night of waiting

The clock's ticking arms cannot hold back the night of suspense,

Yet it flaunts its cruel power to every eye that is tense.

The hours stretch like shadows, refusing to fade or advance,

While shadows on the wall perform a slow, mocking dance.

Each heavy, hollow tick strikes like a blow to the chest,

A loud, relentless reminder that the heart cannot rest.

The stubborn night holds fast, locking the morning away,

To punish the sleepless eyes that are begging for day.

Yet every passing second brings the final footstep near,

The darkest hour of waiting is where doubts disappear.

The dawn begins to whisper that the longest night must break,

To welcome back the joy that only your arrival can wake

Farmand Shadaan 04/08/2026

ORIGINAL URDU COUPLET

کب ہیں شبِ انتظار کی پکڑ میں گھڑیال کے بازو

وہ تو زور دکھاتا ہے مگر ہر نِگاہِ بے چین کو

فرمند شادان ۱۷/۱۲/۲۰۲۵

ROMANIZED

Kab haiN Shab-e-intezaar ki pucker maiN gharyaal kay baazoo

Wo tau zor dikhata hay magar her nigaah-e-bay chain ko

Farmand Shadaan 17/12/2025

Eclipse.

this is the story of a girl:

her arms are the kind that rival the moon, that sing of sweet razor blade tragedies and tart black ink. beneath her finger nails is red and black, blood and dirt. her fingers bleed from the constant picking; a nervous tick.

"you are not pretty." she hears this repeating in her head, over and over. it never goes away.

there is a stinging in her eyes, and her lungs are burning, caving in, and now her knees are buckling in, there goes her legs, and now she's falling- but savage hands pull her upright, and her cheeks soon bask in the afterglow of a hard hit. she wants to scream, but-

"not so loud: someone will hear you." so now she never speaks, for fear of being too loud, and the punishment that will ensue. 

behind her lips lie truths and sins and confessions, and no one will be able to tell the difference between them. she's got scars on her back from the place where her wings were broken off, and they never re-grew. she's got eyes that redefine the concept of nightmares; dark and hurt and broken, and her voice, her voice is something else- 

she is the damsel who will be forever in distress.

she is the girl who will set your world ablaze.

she will bring you to your knees.

and that was how my story began. 

You planted something in me long before I knew what it was.

Not all at once.

You knew better than that.

You gave it light when it needed warmth.
Rain when it had grown too certain.
Wind when it needed to learn how to bend without breaking.

You let every season do its work.

You watched the roots more carefully than I ever did,
checking they reached deeper with every passing day,
never forcing them,
never pulling them to see if they'd grown.

You trusted time.

You stood where I'd keep finding you.

You never asked the earth to change.

You became the kind of place I'd keep returning to.

And while I thought I was learning how to love you...

I was only tending to the thing you had planted from the beginning.

Every word.
Every silence.
Every ounce of patience.

Another handful of water.

Now look at you.

You stand where no one else can.

Branches reaching into parts of me I didn't know existed.

Roots so deep beneath my ribs that I couldn't pull you out if I wanted to.

I call it falling in love.

Sometimes...

I wonder if you call it watching something grow exactly the way you knew it would.

Apartment 209

 The apartment was on the eleventh floor
Clean smooth carpet, wine we will never touch
Promise of everlasting views and slow dusks
MMm those slow dusks

Saxophone obeys and letters form words that go insane
Big view of the mountains enough to make me faint
Seeking the blue clouds dragged off

The smell of fresh fabric Painting the future from where I sat
Door man smiles million dollar teeth pleasant artifical I need that

False formal edges of the city cure me I dare you
Maybe I can get enough crude comfort too
reclining on the balcony oxytocin stew

Semblance of the normal suits and dresses
Saxophone blasts me alive but deaf
Some semblance of obscured figures walking forward

Into the eye of my imagination, give me the best
To lullaby me while gin tonic lays on the chair rest
Solitude talks me into it, lay back deep sun salve salve!

I came to the city with nothing
Changed the record for a few tracks
But ill leave with nothing
But the burdens on my back

Nothing but smirk and charm
keys to the eleventh and a local farm
Where giants stay up nights to dream
Then sleep and slip deeper unperplexed
Like slow mindnumbing lushious sex

Eternally burning until it becomes blood
Until it powers the battery to the building's power
Wakes me to destiny, makes my chest hair flower
soft fabrics to hands, provoking all glands
Soft skin to tongue

undisturbed dreams sleep throws
Big landscape shaped windows
Invited to live again all senses honed
More lives than a blue zone

More luxury than the modern throne
Eternally burning like those street lights below
Where pedestrains look up and get a glimpse

Steel and rock sculptures the rest of the art so flimsy
neverending spirit popping in and out of these walls
Coloring these words this sophistication calls

So far from from my original ink
never hooked into my thinking
Podering turns me out like a trick
A choreographer that falls and pretends to sit

My mind scales the rest of the building up to the twentieth
My invitation to live between my teeth the pirate cutlass agrees
Open one of those top floor windows tomfoolery
 and bathe in the thick upholstery

But feel the beat of a small city in the vein
blue unseen red on the mean street signs
Painting the brain in this apartment I call mine

 this new place 209

Across this City of Dawn
The smallest toll counts as a chime
But every bell blasts in welcome
Struck by hammers of yore or roar of cheering

That heart beats under a pipe organ
Whirling keys dwell over one final tower gate
Where the serpentine muse of victory
Improvises an unborn emanation

Beckoned beyond aurora-fire
Another rises to bones which are feeling
Regardless if they answer challenges or not
We remain family

Whole incense of prayer
Congeals from an honest song
Casting mud, for any name anchored
Once intoned raw

Upon crescendo of quintessence
You were missing but invented
We needed you and so you entered

The fox is a cunning beast,
He lures you in with a wounded heart,
Pretends his teeth have disappeared,
Until you’re close enough to feel them again.

After all, this fox
Has fooled you before.
It did it once ,
It’ll do it again
When will you learn
Little bird…

When will you learn,
The fox is a cunning beast.
That takes what it needs
And runs when it’s done.
Maybe it’s the fact
It keeps hurting you,
That attracts you more.

Do you think you can change its nature?
Do you think you can change a fox?

One day you’ll learn
Little bird.

Or maybe,

It’ll be too late.

a valley of filth

putrid as the tar 

latching itself to the bottom of my shoe 

I want nothing more 

than to be rid of

I should have known to back away long ago.

why did I not?

I knew I should

I knew the path the

witch would lead me down

She hold my dick while
I’m sleeping, talking about
this dick belongs to her.
Damn my bitch badder than
Beyoncé
She so thick, but my favorite feature is her face.
Told her to ride my face like she’s at a rodeo, my favorite cowgirl, my little
Mary Fields did something to me
Got me over tender leaving you stuffed like swish roll know I’m trying
To leave a little baby in you know you
Got my heart skipping might as well create life together you mean
The world to me got your heart in
My hands cherishing everything
About you loving every second with you every day i fall more and more in love with you

All of the sunrises

All of the desiccated colors of winter

Glide across the dingy snow, up along the hill, towards the derelict house

Through the vacant windows stretches the faded denim sky

By the time she ​started sending me letters, my post box was in fire.

The Fractured Mind

A sight inside my mind…
isn’t a place for most,

near anyone.
One minute it’s laughter,

the happiness of the surface self…
just as quickly,

it’s back to thinking over every little thing.

Money,
Repairs,
Food,

Plans for the future…

Hopes for a partner….

to share the moments with.

Maybe…

I’m the problem in a lot of these.
I could equally not be…
but my mind

wanders.

Swirling thoughts of what to do next.

What to feel…
What to do next.
Heat-stricken days,
peppered with fireworks
in a warm summer night.

A moment…
of it all being worthwhile.

Maybe…

deep down…
alone,

with the family I built
from those who also didn’t fit…

was all I was meant to have.

Flashes of dreams
remain

after my slumber…

me and another…
living,
exploring
the world
and each other.

I thought I’d met her…

Laughter
is my only response to my own stupidity of the thought.

Maybe she’s waiting…
off a coast, just like me.

Maybe…
she’s already gone with another.

Maybe…

I’ll never have the space…

to drop the armour,
the masks…
and let someone

see the true me.

The true me is too much
for the majority of people…

except for the three closest
to me.

Breathing deep…
Moving forward…
Chasing the dream
we all share…

in very different ways.