So what
I am a very religious men
What about you?
You think I am a religious
Fanatic?
You are wrong about that
My friend
So what
I am always praying for my father
My friend
Because I must do that
Or I will be punished
By my father
Yes my father is very restricted
With his rules
And I live by my father’s rules
So what
I am one of my father’s children
And my father made me
With his holy hands

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)

The universe loves a bad joke.

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."

In the morning of yesterday
There were strangers talking in my garden, heads close together
Intent on each other, in whispers
I heard them say your name
And the earth shifted a little...the season moved forward a little
And I heard myself sigh like a dreamer

Harvesting hearts and marigolds
The thief steals in when we least expect it, masqued and lithe
Wanting an exploration of Souls
Oblivious, if we’re generous
But still the knife cuts deeply...the blade turns without intention
And I’m bleeding out like a Madrigal

I loved you too much in the Mirrorfall
I found you in the violin’s shadow
Dust and star tears are my witnesses
I love you
My joy and my abyss

Outside is raining, I'm in agony
Because is cold and I can stand no more
And while I'm gazing from my balcony
I feel I'm dead already in my core.

The sidewalks look as if they're cast in lead
The people slowly pass along the gates,
They drag their feet and all appear half-dead,
The wind has frozen solid their traits.

All cars seem ugly, obsolete and gray
A wretched tram slides lazily on rails
The atmosphere is gloomy and decay
Creeps in my room where darkness now prevails.

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

I mistook you for a glass,
When I poured all my love
Into you

For years,
I have wondered why the father
   of a loving daughter
would want to shoot himself  

        in the face.



I don't wonder anymore

So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough

We are all immortal in our own time. Today I feel the warm caressing touch of life across my beleaguered face. Death does not escape me, but in this moment I am alive. One is immortal if one has yet to understand what it means to die.

So come sit with me and listen as life plucks on her string. Purchase a moment and together we wither. Time, good friends, the great veiled indominable figure. Our last breath denotes the bigger picture.

You filled the darkness
between the stars
through you scars.
there was terrible silence
the moon ever heard.
your eyes lit up a city.
there was a weird beauty
the butterflies ever saw

If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry

I'm tired
I'm tired
I'm tired of being tired
I can't even be sad

I'm drained
I'm drained
I'm drained of being strong
I can't even cry

I'm tired
I'm drained
I can play the song

You are the abundance of stars only visible to the dreamer in the wake of night

The sun and its companions as they glow to shine a light on the surface of your skin

You are the mischief that forms the toothy grin on the face of a child’s curiosity

The everlasting glow on their faces as they question the world around them

And I am lost in translation, confused, amused and somewhat enchanted

To you I am the clouds that hide away your blue skies

But to me I am the ones that shield you from the glare of a jealous sun

And to each other we are foreign, bordered and misunderstood

Lost in translation I’m waiting for you to understand ,
That to you; you’re nothing, but to me; you’re my dreamland

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

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.

i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much

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.

Was it Witchcraft?
  Magic?
We weren't sure.
  We were just children.
    But we were witness to a manipulation of all things that abound.  There was influences on objects of nature.  Emanations of psychic force.
     Like on cold nights where an ethereal spirit box would quietly hum as it breathed warm air into our play room. (turned out to be a heater).
   Or where magically an upright coffin full of tasty morsels stood at the ready for hungry tummies. (Later we recognized it as a refrigerator).
   Where mysteriously cold water turned hot, spilling from an orifice  into a cauldron where upon us kids were placed like happy little guppies. (this we later knew as a bathtub).
   Was it super natural powers,
magic,
sorcery?
  Back then it was.
Because me and sister were just little kids.
And the SHE in control of all these magical powers?
  She was our mother.
      
             Happy  Mother's  Day