Let there be keys without locks
Let there be dictionaries without words
Let there be homes without doors

Let there be silence
When we speak of love
Let there be grace in our walk
So that our poems will not ashamed of the craft

Let there be matchboxes without sticks
Because our children need them empty
To preserve their childhood memories

Let there be a metaphor in a worker’s sweat
Because dewdrops alone can not carry poem on her shoulder

Let there be a marriage (illegitimate though)
Between a gun and a flower
Because lonely streets look bad
And a caged bird is always sad

Let there be a reward to roots
Because you look beautiful with flower in your hair
Let there be a reward to cloud
Because we all need to wash our hands, before prayer

Let there be anger in our hand and peace in our head
Let there be a blunt knife in our pocket
Just in case…

Let there be nakedness between all of us
So we can look into each other’s eyes
And say: “Our daughters are safe in each other’s garden”
Let there be nakedness between all of us
So when we make love
“We make love to our beloved one only”

Let there be no history
Because we exchange hugs and kisses in present
Let there be no geography
Because contours of love are powerful enough
To define our boundaries
Let there be no mathematics also
Because nature never counts her blessings

And let there be a finite infinity in our life
And enough strength in our legs
So our walk to horizon would not stumble
And we fall like an autumn leaf.

If I could get on a plane right now, I would.
Leave everyone and everything behind;
making my own destiny
from the wings in the sky.
I want to prove you all wrong
I want to prove myself wrong.
Overcoming complexes born into me.
My fight is hard
but i do not want to be
what genetics and family history
tell me I will be.
I'm going to break that trend
change my name
change my game
I'm going to rewrite this story.
Honesty.
That's what drives me to be
I want to hear truths,
not sugar-coated compliments
that make me doubt sincerity.
Why is it so hard for me to believe?
I'm gonna fly.
Airports feel like home to me
people leaving
people coming.
"Someone's last goodbye
blends in with someone's sigh"
you're either going off
or coming home.
My soul roams
looking for faces I don't know;
trying to guess their stories.
I AM good enough
I may not talk your ears off
have a hot ***
or stand out brilliantly
but I am enough.
Those who cannot see
are blind.
There will always be
the enemy
trying to bring me down.
Self-worth is my weakness
and he knows it.
But I have my armor, I have my sword
I have my cunning wit.
This war is mine.
This war is yours.
How invisible it all seems
and yet it is here
bursting from my very own seams.
Take my hand.
Do you feel the electricity
humming in my bones?
Jumping off a dock
the icy water
jolts my heart
and I feel alive.
Your hand strong in mine
run with me.
My clumsiness
causes me to trip.
Often.
Some say enduring
I say annoying.
If I had wings
then I could fly
and not trip upon uneven ground.
Stairway to freedom
to feel the wind on my face
and in my hair.
A car rushes to sunnier shores
music blasting
lungs filled with songs
as we speed down that old highway.
Camaraderie.
A family truer than my own.
I'm at home on the road
sea salt on our skin
stories by a fireside
the stars as blankets
friends as pillows.
A feeling of unconditional
love
friendship
truth.
That does not often
weave itself
into the patterns of
daily life.
Brothers and Sisters,
though not by birth
are almost of a better kind;
you have to find them
and enchant their hearts
as they do yours
with no ties of blood
keeping you together.
My space.
My place.
My spot in life
is wherever I currently stand
or sit
or sleep
or think
or love
or dream.
Here I am.

We are on the couch. He is fast asleep.
Cheek sinking lightly into the pillow,
breathing in soft snores peacefully,
oblivious to all emotions transpired.

Like delicate tails of aged lace
his hair covers his cheeks,
his collarbones.
Just below his milky shoulders are faint freckles
balanced on his skin like stars in the navy sky.

Light from the whitish tranquil moon seeps through sheer curtains,
along with the peculiar sound of dishes being washed in the next room.
The glimmer of the television still plays upon the walls.
Nothing changes.

But there he wakes.
Then looks me straight in the eyes.
And his orbs were unnaturally limpid.
I'd never noticed.
They gave me a bizarre, pure feeling.
Just shot right through me.
Like gazing at the sky.

Almost without thinking, I drew nearer to him.
It took no longer than a second to bury myself in his glow,
to feel his breaths and grip on my fingers tighten.
His five fingers, in search of something, roaming over my back.
He cradles me in his right arm,
I stroke his fine strands of hair with my left.

For a while, he waits for me to sleep first.
Eventually, I always do.
And that's it.

Waves of flame course through my veins,
      heralding a coming storm,
      challenging me to perform
restraint to tame my lustful ways.

Oh, that the burn'd give way to thunder
      and the deluge pouring down,
      filling us from Cup to Crown
with baited breath and ache and wonder.

Every nerve cries out, awake -
      the roaring blaze that dwarfs us both,
      tempting me to break my oaths
and Know the ire that liberates -

Lick away the blood and beauty,
      sizzle up my salty tears...
      tell me what I'm doing here,
lie me down for Death and Duty.

Freckled smile
Laughing eyes
Midnight locks
Expectant lips
Sarcastic kiss