Magic beans and fairytale lattes
ease your burdens, supply you with strength.
To survive through yet one of your Mondays,
sip the warmth and release a held breath.

Rotten smell.
Stale water.
In this well –
a monster.

Twisted horns,
horrid maw –
a wild beast!
You would know...

You entrapped it in there,
but to leave, don't you dare.

It is stuck
in the dark –
cannot run
nor attack.

The beast calls
from the pit –
you can hear
it weep.

You entrapped it in there...
Its sad cries, you must bear.

My emotions pour out in a torrent
with the sound of this magical night:
as you move in a trance, in the moment,
I embrace you with bright disco lights.

Hear the beats of my heart, of the music;
touch the notes of the dance, of my soul;
lose yourself to the rhythm, amuse me -
on the dance floor, for you, I'm the song.

I sit here
in the dark
lost in thoughts,
torn apart.

There is blood
on my hands
of my foes,
of my friends.

As I look at each finger,
I let memories linger.

Only blood
know my hands –
of my foes,
of my friends.

I am death,
unworthy
of your love,
your mercy.

Yet, you kiss every finger.
Your kind warmth, your breath linger.

I’m still here
in the dark,
but in you
I see light.

My heart sings
as I hold the whole world in my arms.
Gentle waves
flow and murmur in tune around us.
Can’t resist—
every touch sets my body aflame,
and I kiss
hoping that—wishing you feel the same.

Can one blame me for hiding?
For this cowardice?
Not because of embarrassment
Nor the prejudice,

But because of the fear of loosing you.
What we have—I hold onto it foolishly.

Longing for your trust (absolute, mutual),
I stay by your side. Like a ritual,
Thought repeats, (hopeless, in a haze):
“I await for you, never and always.”

Long ago now (if ever), once upon a dream,
I was saved by a deity – lovely, serene.
Circumstances were dire, I am telling the truth:
I was down under water, caught in vines, couldn’t move.
It reached out to me, then, from the depths underneath,
Pulled me up to the surface; I struggled to breathe.

With a song it has lulled me,
Of my safety assured me.

Years by, haven’t once I remembered the vision.
Not until our sudden (or fated?) collision.
When I look in your eyes of warm hazel, I hear
Softest voice from the memory – ethereal, dear.
Are you possibly someone I’ve once only seen,
Long ago now (if ever), once upon a dream?

One must know drizzles and days of gloom
to see the beauty—a rose in bloom.

A weapon that’s finely honed—
not more than a wire, a knife.
Nowhere on Earth I belonged,
until you invaded my life.

Around me, your arms wrap with comfort;
warmth spreading; hold’s steady, no effort.

Throughout, all’s familiar, safe.
My self (for what I always longed)—
no longer a weapon, a knife—
a man, fully, finally owned.

Regal,
vile—
the beast aims to ****
but I am frozen in place.
My blood's running still
in its frightening grace,
and I smile—
regal,
vile.

Gentle breaths, huffs, escape your sweet kiss-swollen lips.
At the feel of your heartbeat, my own wildly skips.
I am content right here with your head on my chest.
I will hold you close, dear, while you’re taking your rest.

Meant to flower and blossom with power,
Seeds are planted with care (here, there).
But we’re lost in the shadows – we’re graceless.
Empty masks are around us – they’re faceless.

What becomes of us (empty and hollow)?

Not a flower with a powerful glow.
‘Cause a seed, as you know, doesn’t grow,
When it’s hidden so deep in the darkness.
Will the light and its warmth ever find us?

I am a selfish man.
Here, now, even then,
I take all that you give, all you offer.
From a boy to a man, as I suffer,
You arise and blossom, beside me.
Still, my feelings, desires escape free.

Stop this greed—I don’t know if I can.
I am yours, I am a selfish man.

so hollow—
nothing but a shell,
a vessel emptied and left without purpose —
she’s drifting through the days, alone and hopeless.
silence, as she fell
in sorrow
so hollow—

Some days are harder than they may appear…
When, lost, you spiral down, out of control—
I’ll catch you in my arms, my love, come here.

Behind,
the season of snows and sorrows.
Bygone are its long frozen nights.

Spring brings
the promise of brighter morrows
and wonder to everyday sights.

I watch
as beautiful cherries blossom.
With them,
a light in my heart ignites.

It hurts, my love.

It hurts, my love; I’m filled with sorrow.

While you are here (close but miles and miles away),

what can I say to change your mind so you’d stay?

Don’t go, my love…

Don’t go, my love, where I can’t follow.

Let’s think together of some other way. Stay.

The moonlight.

It’s silver, it’s calming—it brings me some hope.

Its presence, though distant, is constant.

It lightens the burden of sorrows

until I am lost in these horrors.

What makes me – imposter? a monster?

I shiver; it’s frightening—I plead all to stop,

to rewrite—

the moonlight.

You are real.

My reflection is foreign, it’s haunted –

You are out there (I see you, I want you).

Lover’s caress spills traces of colour,

Making pain in my heart even duller.

Wishing idly (to touch you, to feel you),

I’m stuck here—this moment, my torment.

Help me heal.

There is no escape...
A creature of evil—the dark!
You roam through the night well hidden—
ghostlike!
Your strike –
a deathly finesse! Crushed, smitten,
he falls down – your victim, your mark.
There is no escape!

There’s a blizzard of words in my mind.
It is blowing and raving inside.
I embrace it, as it tears my soul,
spills on a page till a poem’s born.

There's subtle, eerie beauty in letting go,
allowing your creation to fly freely
to meet the audience, live its life just so—
it waited to escape your grasp so keenly.
What others feel about it you can't control.
Your inspiration, the readers will ignore
so to get scared, to react with their own feelings.
It's brought into existence—you played your role.
Don't be afraid, it's strong to break through ceilings.

They've always been here — the signs—
in your every smile, your sighs,
in the long, gentle touches,
on your cheeks rosed with blushes.

What a fool I've been, didn't see,
didn't save you from ruin, from me.
I have failed you. I'm at fault —
you're in anguish; you hurt.

Stay away! I'm unworthy
of your kindness and mercy.
There is something I'm scared of —
I'm too hollow to bear love.

They've always been here — the signs—
in the way the whole world shines.

Thick smoke and wild fire
my heart only knows.
I’m lost in desire,
consumed by this lust.
I hear no reason,
just the roaring blaze.
Guide me through this maze…
Your sure touch, your groans—
for you, my heart burns.

My gut is in knots;
I feel agitated.
From space jumps? It’s not.
It’s more complicated...

Aboard our starship,
glances we’re stealing.
More than a friendship –
this simple feeling.

Throw ideas around like fairy dust,
draw a seal from sentences, if you must,
summon demons and gods, see them fighting.
Witcher's magic – the process of writing.

To write is to keenly breathe
the air yet inexistent,
to hear the sounds yet unborn;
The power to swim beneath
the stars of a world distant,
and smell a rose without thorns.

trapped in red – can’t escape this nightmare
not yet dead, but i’m barely aware
echoes burn, of your touch, your embrace
will you mourn as I fade without trace?

Peace is easily found
under the mango trees:
softly push from the ground,
swing to the gentle breeze,
smell the blooms – every kind,
hear the rustle of leaves...
Heals, the beauty around –
under the mango trees.

We chase wild dreams at the tip of our pens,
every word every stroke brings us closer.
But at times, our draft—it just doesn’t make sense…
We can’t help but believe us a poser.
Still, the dream, the pen, calls out to our hearts—
and we try, put it back to the paper.
Every word, every stroke is a wonder!
As our instincts kick in – full of hunger,
we’re hunters that chase, hunt down our prey!
We won’t let our doubts win, lead us astray—
we will howl for our pack, our dearest friends.
Dreams are waiting at the tip of our pens.

When she smiles,
you smile in return.
I get sick,
my insides churn.
Sour jealousy scrapes,
burns my throat.
Don't you know you're mine?
You do not.
So lost in your silly crush, in her,
you forget how close we are,
always were.
You don't know my need
to let go,
to kiss you,
so you know.

When your story flows like a river,
words come easy, plot turns deliver –
you're a wizard, a witch of the light!
You're gifted with magic – the power to write!

When both winter and night
waltz through lands, it’s a sight;
It’s a magical moment—the nature’s delight.

Silver light from the moon,
as they dance to slow tunes,
Would reflect on the surface of pearl-white dunes.

Snow would sparkle so bright
it would match the starlight;
It would set the dark forest, the whole world, alight.

Gusts of wind from the ground,
whirling, twisting around,
Would swoosh down ice slopes to create a rare sound.

Frosty music would fill
lands with wonder and thrill—
Notes of magic so warm you won’t notice the chill.

It’s a precious, magnificent sight
When white winter twirls, sings with dark night.

In the night, I pretend to feel warmth
of your body and hands, big and strong,
wishing not to wake up, not to feel
this cold absence of you (too real).
I escape to the fantasy—
—stop,
loose myself in the ecstasy—
—don't!
Would you think of me less if you knew
that I wish to not see morning dew?
But the sun will come out anyway,
painting all of my dreams with cold grey...
After making another mistake,
I sit here, on our bed, wide awake.
Slender body beside is not yours.
I'm not fooled: It's not love – it's remorse.

Here, I crumble in this morning light,
feeling all the effects of last night.
He'll wake up and pick up all his stuff,
look at me and breathe out: "that's enough."
He will leave; there isn't much I can give
to him now, as your absence I grieve.
One day, maybe, I'll see him for him,
Embrace on purpose — not on a whim.
Would you deem me a cheat if I flee
to his arms and pretend to be free
from this loss, maybe learning to heal?
Would you blame me for wanting to feel
his—another man's—warmth in our bed
that hasn't been warm at all since you left?

You cannot stop the waterfall
of sentences and rhyme, at times.
It threatens to consume you all
unless you write the lines, the lines...

You kiss without reservations, always have,
be there friends around, an unfamiliar crowd.

Always bold, you claim what's yours with passion, pride,
drawing a fit of laughter out of your bride.

You care not for daggers piercing through my heart,
or for the way you shatter what's left of hope
I carried through our years of friendship. No, you do not.

As your best friend, the best man, I’ll play the part
but don’t expect me to be here when this marriage falls apart.
She isn't right for you (I am!) You know this to be true, you do.

As soon as you exchange your vows, I'll leave and I won't miss you.
It doesn't matter that everything inside me screams to kiss you.

Ah, who am I kidding? I will be here for your every need.
When everything inside me crumbles, and even when I bleed.
I'm prisoned by my love for you, my dear friend. I can't be freed.

You know that it hurts
when your kiss lands on my cheek.
My heart explodes —
with you, I'm a fool; I'm weak.
You know how I wish
to embrace you whole. I seek
your burning passion
not friendship.
It's irrational
and selfish.
I hold myself back
as my heart falls to pieces,
when your touch ceases,
and everything hurts...
Kiss me where it hurts,
kiss my everything,
love my everything,
just as I love yours.

So, it came as no surprise,
that I got caught in your lies.
You played my heart like a toy
then crushed, with sickening joy.
Everybody around knew…
You never loved me, did you?

You’re a gift - don’t call yourself weak.
Stars and planets are at your feet!
You can hear the colour of words,
taste the shape of different worlds,
breathe the waters of inspiration
in the process of art creation.

Вкус соли морской на губах,
Прохлада предутреннего бриза.
Две чайки парят в облаках,
Подсвеченных золотом, и близок
Жемчужный рассвет –
Красив его свет.

Прозрачна, спокойна вода,
Цвета перламутрового неба.
К себе приглашает волна,
И нежно её прикосновенье.
Сомнения нет –
Ныряю в ответ.

Ночь темна. Пусть не видно дороги,
Фонарей недостаточен свет,
Покидают пустые тревоги.
В тишине исчезает их след.

Подлетают к огням мотыльки,
Пронесётся песнь сонных цикад.
На ветру шелестят лепестки
Ста магнолий, пьянит аромат.

Бледный облик луны
Высоко над горой,
Заезды ярко видны,
С моря слышен прибой.
На душе покой.