buried in metaphors,

the allegory of a door

representing the figurative

pathway to the highways

and byways of my brain-

the complexity. as it rains,

i'm brainstorming some more

about how the door's allegory

is literally my story

of the life that is mine

but not to keep.

my religious beliefs

influence the reference

that i just made,

but life was more of a fray

that originated in Denver

and ignited with a cable car

crashing and burning

with a fiery intention 

to make itself known

of my interests in the arts:

music, poetry, it all starts

to come together as of recently:

initiating what seems to be

a musical venture eclectically

branching out musically

from my poetry.

 

buried in metaphors,

the irregularity

of my writings explains me:

unpredictable, yet comfortable

with life's rollercoaster

as we are robbed by the tycoons

dubbed as our "lifelines".

day in and day out,

the rough edges we pay for

as fines. but nevermind the troubles

of the world... it's the struggles

of mine, and with girls,

that have shaped me incongruently:

hence my poetry

in all its irregularity.

 

so as this poem comes around,

don't avoid the boomerang.

catch it like the common cold

and don't sleep it off, or

sleep on it. tough it out

and soak it all in. because it's raining

and i'm brainstorming some more,

buried in metaphors,

the allegory of the door

is a literal one

for three to enter

and observe the artist:

drawing a blank,

or so it seems.

 

will you open the door?

will you see what it all means?