Man with no name
Laconic in every frame
Smoking a cigar
Or driving a police car
Westerns or a Cop Thriller
As a Drifter or a Rider
Iconoclastic instant justice
44 Magnum to carry it out without prejudice
Mayor of Carmel
All American Male
Filling cinemas across the globe
East West North or South
Its got to be Clint Eastwood

An extra dose of all the good stuffs that I had yesterday
A cake with extra sprinkles on top
A coffee with a dust of cinnamon
Or a hug that is a little bit tighter.

Colorless tears
drop in vain
invisible graffiti
what do they say
coming down so hard?
face of silent pictures
smuggled smiles
drowning emotion
masked in fears
it's wet now
better change it

The terrain of your loneliness falls under my hands
soft as cinders in a snuffed fire
We have both burned, in our way
and under my breath
Embers ignite, the soft glow
And incandescent heat of our palms, tenderly met
Lanterns in a grey sea
we light as beacons
For our lost ships
calling them
To safe harbor.

I was falling
for you

the feeling of
being weightless

the sky and
the ocean are
blue

like your eyes

your eyes and
Einstein’s brain

are the depths
I can never reach

but I will drown trying
to reach either or both

You will live on in our dreams,
You will live on in our hearts,
You will live on in our words,

You will live on in our songs,
You will live on in our memories,
You will live on in our prayers,

Your smile, your spark,
Forever in our hearts,
Always and forever,

O, my Eternal Beloved,
The cosmic Light of Life,
Lord of Love and Mercy,

May this sweet angel play safely
In the eternal fields of freedom,
Where no harm can reach him.

Take its roots when you are dissatisfied with yourself.
7/12/2021

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

u see the knife
you watch the glow
u see me smile
but can't hear me cry
u think i'm happy
but inside i'm breaking
u see the blood
then u realize
that i wasn't
lying
when i said
i'm depressed!
u wish u gave me the
support i needed
but now it's too late.
I'm dying inside...

I have seen the miracle of life,
There is nothing one can do to make me
Stop believing in Love.

I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye

mom, i love you
mom, can you take the weekend off?
mom, can he go back to his house?
mom, i miss you
mom, i hate you

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

All I know
Is how
I feel

And sometimes I
Wish I
Knew nothing

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

i am so desperate for touch:
to be caressed
and kissed
all over my body.

oh, for someone to
touch me like you did
is all i need
on a night like this.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

I am crowding
The latest
Page
On a Sunday night.

Write,
Take the stage,
Believe me,
I only perform every now and then.

And I like
Reading yours
More
Than I like re-reading mine again.

I am ready.
Sunday night
Don't be intimidated
Write your poetry.

When I was little
I was scared
Scared of the monsters living under my bed
I used to hide, under my blanket
Under my blanket, I was safe
The monsters couldn’t reach me under my blanket

My parents used to say
The monsters would go away
I would grow up and that then they would leave

But I grew up
And the monsters didn’t leave
Turns out my monsters, grew with me
Now instead of under my bed
The monsters live inside my head

So I hide, under my blanket
Where I think I am safe
Wondering if after all this time
My blanket can still keep the monsters at bay

I listen as he romanticizes cheating,
contorting it into “forbidden love”.

Let me real-life your fantasy.

For it would be a fallacy to judge
when I too, romanticize everything.

It takes me
perhaps a few minutes,
at most,
to write a poem.

In the brief instant
between
creation and publication,
I am convinced
that this poem cannot be
improved.

But note,
it is never the claim,
that the poem is
any good.

I write
so that I may express
what I had genuinely felt
for a few moments.

Just like a lost soul wandering but in a body.
That's been me now for so long.
But I'm getting ready.

Still developed a lot myself.
Had influence on others.
But wandering without a future, not yet ready to die.
Holding on like that for so long.
Untill I was ready.

Tried to leave but failed a couple of times.....
Now I finally received a way out that is sure to succeed.
Still the hardest thing to do.
Very lonely.
I just had to wait a little longer....

Then one night my mom told me: you've got to end this, make a plan now finally and make up your mind!
My fiery mom.
With old Norse wisdom inside of her naturally.

It had to be my time though.
An old friend apologized to me when he saw me again.
He needed that before I left.
But now it's time to get ready, not hang around in limbo.

My mom is right.
My mom, equal in my battles.

I had to realize I need to be a true Viking.
Find pride and courage in the sacrifice.
The hardest one.
Dying in battle.
My only escape.

I used to grow flowers.
Pretty little petals
Sprouted from letters.
Into pretty little paragraphs
Sprouted from words.

Now I only grow lonely.
Ugly little concepts
Sprouted from doubts
Into fetid thoughts
Sprouted from desolation.

And I’m back to being alone by the fire

Bleeding as the vast air
Buries me with each crackling log

That bitter bone burning
Reminds me to go back inside

The pointless sky ignores me again

I’m sorry you love a damaged heart,
I only know two sides to a story, either heartfelt or torture.
It’s hard to put down my shields that’s been guarding me for years.
I’m sorry I’m the one you wanted,
It’s not too late to walk out.