Hi, hello, greetings, salutations,

how fares our population?

I hope you all are sober?


hope there is no discomfort?

no complains of oppression,

no fights with indigestion,


but despite all these green pastures,

few things have caught my attention,

despite there being a golden standard!


occupying the depths of my cerebral cortex,

there are some issues,

failing to reach the motor cortex,

they are in need of a rescue


they wage a war of Plantagenet passion,

Angry Dad-Simpsons

serenaded in swords, brutality and mystic fashion


these issues, might appear small,

as if not be in existence at all,

but I fear they are larger,

larger than the magna carter


This fabric of sewn objections,

The fear of society’s constant rejections




they house the facts pertaining to many matters,

of slogans raised and public banter,

all of which has no effects on the conscience,

only to become the shining example of incompetence


these issues all loiter,

in the corridors of unattended rioters


they fall on deaf ears,

their hate silenced, but discretely feared


so the only real question,

the one and only thought;

is the call of intervention?

Is there any at all?


what to do; when comes time,

as turning eyes blind is abetting the crime


do you pay heed,

do you conceive,

Or as bystanders spectating the deed


to think and ponder,

is better than hate, slander

to result in a reaction,

Instead of social media distraction


To understand and make a decision,

I feel is the only logical conclusion.

~ B.T


The Hybrid Theory

How, why no one knows,

This is really how it goes,

Turn around and start this show,

Now is the time to let them know,

Re-boot, Re-connect,

Change the tone and dialect,

Never mind these foggy steps,

This path way need not be set,

Sooner or later it’ll come to pass,

The awaited time will come at last,

My fingers are numb,

The final hour has come,

Bleeding out, crawling in my skin,

Coming face to face with the rhythm bend?

Mike S has my utmost respect,

Chester Mate we’ll meet again, God bless!


All these years spent with their rhymes,

Shows how fast traveled time,

Putting together these random lines,

I give you my own design,

There is no argument there is no Debate!

It would be hard to pick one particular Date,

Hard to pick one favourite song,

The list would just  goes on and on,

Once you switch to Headphones,

In my head, forgotten booms,

Sometimes a stutter, at others a hum,

Came a time when entire sentences were spun,

Now the memories all seem mixed up as a jigsaw

To this day we all are in awe,

Simple stuff turns into rhyme,

Day by day they get polished to shine,

The re-occurring phrases in my memory line

You know I disregard that love is blind,

Never one to say “will you be mine”,

Leaving it to the pro’s I pen these rhymes,

Presuming I’m the best

After the ceiling what comes next?

Rest in peace my old friend,

We will meet again at life’s end!

Thank You Bennington the message is clear,

Throughout the years its been surreal,

At the end there’s No more sorrow.

The life we led this time its borrowed.

~ B.T


In a world far, far away,

In a time separated from you and me,

Exists the world of heroes,

Kept alive by our thoughts and dreams,


Here there is a place of solitude,

No room for anarchy,

There are those who wield tritons,

Others exhibit spider like agility,


No mortals here

No villains who dare,

The dark marks never been seen,


No wars to be fought,

No civilians to help,

No moments of calamity,

No kitten in need of saving,

When they are stuck in a tree,


Swinging from building to building you are free!

To live in peace

The times of battle have long passed

The peace is uneasy


You open your eyes

To look at the life we lead,

It us, it’s not them

Their existence isn’t make believe,


The power is yours,

The ring of will

The cap of hope is with me


We can be that symbol,

Too many to hold in cages,

The truth sets you free,


There is always a hero within you and me!

Just put on your cap, your mask to conceal,

Then we fly off to do extraordinary things

To turn this world into that of make believe!

~ B.Temuri


I feel the open wound,

The pain of which is real,

Realising it, took time,

Even though your absence caused the pain,

Many moments pass on by,

Encompassing this ordeal,

They show me the path to take,

The mistakes to avoid and choices to make,

Why do I dwell on the past,

My Aim should be to keep it sealed,

I sit on the empty road

Looking for my way,

My compass spins around,

The nearby magnet seals my fate,

The adrenaline rush,

The thumping core,

The pulse on which I feed,

Is the life force I need,


Moments in flashes appear glimpse by glimpse,

From the initial glow of the bulb,

To the dwindling light above,


They are my hope,

They are my strength,

They empower me to move on,

They move the thought train,

I don’t want to dream

I don’t want to heal

Cause once its all said and done,

The scars are gone

The bandages are worn,

It all begins again.

To block out the searing pain,

To close my eyes to fear,

To take in the last breath of air,

To simply live on again.

I hurt my self again,

But those before me have healed,

They withstood all the pain,

They handled the gloom and tears,

They carried on from the dead,

To come to the poppy fields.



Glass blown and sanded,
the feel of silk,
the smell of spring,
none can compare,
to the aura which you have ensnared,
The springs of Honduras fall short on all scales,
the suns radiance in your presence fails,
your grace eludes even the black swan,
if you are the queen, I’d happily play the pawn,
The wilderness flocks to your reside,
to the Olympians you are their pride,
None to your presence can compare,
to the aura which you have ensnared.
Even the Greek sculptors would fail to capture your beauty,
the mystery, the allure all have their specific duty,
how the clouds part to reveal the moon and stars,
who are well aware of the spell being cast,
Your arrival brings a similar magic,
to not stop and admire it would be tragic,
a sin I would not commit,
a whim to which I cannot submit,
None can compare,
to the aura which you have ensnared,
As flowers at the beginning of day,
like the moon beckoning the water astray,
crystal is my mind,
my feelings for you have me intertwined,
The epitome of excellence is you,
the model of all traits It is true!
the conundrum now seems how to let go,
How to evade destiny’s call,

how to turn away from my curtain call.

~ B.Temuri

Glory Days

As I wander these deserted streets,
Post a shower with dampness at its peak,
The roofs are decorated with green and white.
With a star and a crescent to bring balance to the light.

When its eve of the big day,
When the clock nears the final hours play,

Stories locked up all year round are taken off the shelves,
The dust blown off the covers and the titles are spelt,

The fire rekindled and the tales blessed
So begins our history’s viewing in picturesque.


Children are taught about the virtues of the land,
Against all odds a likely loss could’ve been at hand.

Then just a glorification of our own little squabbles.
How we lost pieces to this jigsaw puzzle.

With forces at most sensitive of borders,
Instead of looking forward its images of the past which we hoarder.

There are many frontiers still left to tame,
So many milestones left to claim

Don’t not lose hope my people,
A nation is more than just a chunk of land,
A nation is more than its longitude and latitude,

You are a nation as you are united when it matters.
You are united when packed to the rafters.

No one denies our faults.
But it’s the realization and that we try to resolve.

That puts us on the path towards prosperity.
That makes the case of our sovereignty.

~ B.T

The Mystery of Belle.

Gather around so that we may begin,

Sound it off and let’s wait for the count to end.

Lend me your ears this story is alluring,

A tale of drama and an individual who’s passion is devoting.


This lass is on song with rapid answers,

Reserved for those who she sees as monsters

She totally adores that rapping sensation,

The one who has overtaken all hit music station.

Pardon me if I forget to mention,

Why we all call her, one of great expectations,


Not many alive can bask in her grandeur,

As she is raised to be of a different standard.

I hope you might have picked up on my pointers,

But I’ll warn you, not to disappoint her.

All other colours of the spectrum are a lie!

Only Black is the way, comes a cry.


Belle is not all that mystified,

Her doing, is of words uncounted by the naked eye.

Seems like a complex structure from a far,

Comprehending her is liking counting stars.


All in all Belle is her name,

Synonymous with her claim to fame.

Sensibility is her main quality,

Seldom seen up to her equality.


These high standards begs one to question, should we even try?

Don’t know about you but I don’t want to be a recipient of a red eye.

Thank you all for bearing,

Thank you for caring,

You know all along I was just sharing,


Belle you are my night and day,

That is all that I have left to say,

You do things in your own eccentric way,

I like that you don’t care what the populous say,

My lady does change gears mind you as the stakes get high,

She does show humility and compassion in degrees high as the sky


 She is the source of comfort for this shy guy,

And when the moment arrives

You can be sure with her time just seems to fly by.

~ B.Temuri