They say grief comes in waves
varying in size and intensity;
some start small, moving silently,
might seem harmless but engulf
me within no time and I
was never taught how to swim.

Thrashing and flailing in the water
I find it difficult to breathe.
The seas of sadness pull me far
into their abyss where there is no
light or hope to get out of the misery;
sometimes even that feels enticing and comforting.

On other days these waves come
roaring loud in the ears, threatening
to steal my ground away from me, often
I brave to surf over them with the
help of distractions and they
recede, scheming to gulp me down later.

Wonder how I end up on these shores every time
while on a train or on my bed, in a
classroom or in a conference hall, amongst
the crowded streets and when alone,
memories of yesterday strewn like sea shells
lead me to the waters and I can always hear their elegies.

And when the moon shines its brightest
on them, you get to see the scene of tranquillity
but deep inside my heart there is
a storm brewing slowly that takes
various names every season, maybe there is
one named after you too, who knows.

Do you want to come with me down
to the ocean of tears? We could let
those waves kiss our feet while we watch
the sunset together, I will tell you
all my stories and you could share yours too.
I hope you know how to swim.

Roses, we never...
Stations of man...
Seasons of women, lover...
The promise of cares to know elan...

The personality of curiosity
The passion of consciences need, me
Actual live and lets live, is patience's heed?
The voice of causes in love with the sea...

Prepare a friend for a choice, in silence
In a careful our, the times to share a challenge
That lowly, is a seldom seen force, that comes to ends
Like us, but in the portion of beauty, is a stone to many...

Finish your daydream with a salt...
Majority's and meager kind, waits with a palpable goal
Prevailing upon a coping house, we conceive of liberty's all
As a welfare of stigmata, like a child of quiet to fulfil strength's, of  old...

Archaic sensibility's, the role of service
To an ideal, adding wishes, of privilege to step forward
Thirst and communion of hunger, has become a beauty's sigh
With but a kindred to assume a whole chance, of a needy star?

Resolute, lovers remind, the sincerity of ambience
Is like the back of the land, a halo of voice to share, the new
And then, the silence of composure broken, with a stare to bless
The rosey attitude of health, that worships a pace of peace to come soon

Fed with liberty, and the tooth of summation
A body will know the lingering shadow of timidity
Shall, tows of waiting powers, the keep of intuition...
Is my fury at secrecy owed, or is my cause a saving identity?

Finding little Beauty in his world he thought
Like Jason and the Argonauts

"I'll build myself a mighty Ship with words
And out of the best parts of myself select a Crew

Then we'll set sail on the Seas of Rhyme
To the Ends of the Earth if need be

We'll bring back Beauty's Crown
To heal ourselves... and the world too".

‘twas the Hour of The Raven,
Scolding at the Seven Seas,
Humidity can’t be seen
As the sun whirled
Its final twirl.

A flock of pigeons stand by Midnight’s Trolley Trail.

I am my own eye,
Staring at taught veils
'tween cotton gaits.

The clouds are no more,
Spirits remained encaged in rose sepultures,

A transformation so chaotic, they cackle at their false fear.

MY BLURRINESS SEEMS TO BURN
STEADY. ready,
For what to behold.

I have left Universe to relay ,
As the subtle sun one did in its day.

I am left
To react.

React to what?
React to wee?            React,
to relationships,        React,
to their degree of nobility,
So fruitful, so radical in concept indeed.


Of all these perspectives
I am one.
One paper, one tree cut for endless possibilities.

The treasure remains underneath,
Where I weep
In the deep,
In the deep.

There is nothing to find,
And that made all the difference.

'twas the Hour of The Raven,
Scolding at the Seven Seas.

i am viking past
unknown voyager of seas
and to death battle

Sea calm,
Crew slept,
Dark side,
Sea kept,
Tide raced,
Waves crept,
Crew woke,
Sails prepped,
Coiled spring,
Waves leapt,
Overboard,
Crew swept,
Left behind,
They wept.

For the sea has no respect
For the nautically inept …