I walked back and forth.. and still am.. direction unclear and the path ahead seems new to me… will walk it up and down, left and right...

So let us  play all the way until the end of days...

At times the play’s writer and many others the play’s actor!

I  will walk down that path again, I will walk down that path again and again and again.

Try it one more time, and why not, what is there to lose… I will run as fast as I did and maybe faster .. yeah maybe faster , faster than my slower thoughts, my handicapped boots, stepping on all my delusional  roots..

Yes, furiously more than I have ever did!  Try and die to be resurrected again from the living dead

Down that path again and again and again ..  jump up again.. mess up again! Round and round again, linear , circular... to slide on that steep *****…..again.. .  Failures multiplied by ten, countless sins and a zest  for love, again!

And I stand here on the other side of the lake,
looking at that bridge where we use to meet!
I stand here, feeling the early winter breeze,

listening to your music, I sand here

I stand here as the sun rises on the other side of the lake, I break, my heart aches, I stand here!

Staring at that bridge, imagining your hair dancing to the falling leaves, as their color changes to bring in the winter breeze that you wait for every year

Your body is a blend of mystic journeys,
I transcend with it to the heavens of pleasure and passion
I can’t but  touch it with awe and wonder
The journey starts with your Mediterranean  face
It shines like the sun, full of light and warmth
Your eyes of yellow and brown, are deserts in which I  lose  direction,
In your eyes, the world is mine!
Your neck is a waterfall, a free fall towards exotic valleys,
I travel down the silk road,
Hips of a gypsy, a wilding dancing for life!
an untamed woman, you are
a tropical voyage, exotic fruits!
Lush mangos...Erected seeds that I gently lick for the sweet taste of love,
Deep south,  I touch the thundering thighs towards the entrance of your soul,

In Oneness, only once!

The last mile has always been so close yet so far.

sweat and tears; broke, and living in fear. All  sacrificed for the big bold dream .  It keeps him alive .  The man will not stop unless he dies.

The WILL to BE defies all logic. It lifts him into the magic . This  man is uber, this knight is super!

He sees the glitter far in the horizon...one more mile,  just one last valley....the finish line is in that alley.

Ah, he is slowing down, his feet are sinking in the sand.. his ego hates this aching game... so it whispers in his ears, “ hey, look there, look harder , can’t you see?  Lady Luck is serving You a new winning hand.”

At the last mile, yet again, he abandons an old dream to pursue this new theme.

All the blisters, the sweat and tears matter no more! He will start all new, down the rabbit hall, toward a novel goal!

And in circles he goes, all scattered he lives: one day south and the next day north!  

.

Sitting in the morning sun, setting the sails,  
destination north,
towards a brave new world,

Just like the days back then, when all was new , novel and true…
It’s time to sail that boat, far away from this port
towards a brand new world.

Boats are made to sail.. birds are made to fly
and men are made to try multiple folds in multiple worlds.  Did, corporations captivate all hope ? Did monotony morose all souls? Did boredom close all doors??  

It’s high time to sail that boat, far away from this port
towards the brave new world.

Don’t know what awaits me this time, but I know what I am to leave  behind.  It was ebb and tide.. In this port it wasn’t all bright nor was it all naught.   Along with the crystal beach and parties on the hill, came love , passion, heartbreaks and cold chills.

All what has been shall be again…. All what I feel shall be felt again in the new found land..Yet with new scenes, new sounds and new scents!

I stare at the endless lake for a long time, thinking that maybe the sun will shine from the opposite side... I walk the soft white sands, thinking that maybe today will end with dusk and start with dawn… I drive the dunes, thinking that maybe I will tear the suit and wear my old boots…. I call and we talk for a long time, thinking that maybe, she will act the plan and leave her drunken man

But nothing hardly changes and all shall follow their mathematical mean, gravitated by their average, pulled back by their genes. Aren’t such realities ruthless, dreadful, and mean?

I turn on the radio, thinking that maybe we won't depart to Mars, I turn up the volume, thinking that maybe, we will save the earth and seize all wars.

I light a candle in my shrine and ask God for oneness. To send me a whisper, show me a miracle, or signal me a sign!!

but nothing ever changes! We follow our mathematical mean, gravitated by our average, pulled down by our genes

I wake up all day to sleep the night
To glide far away from reality
into my world of fantasy

Evil Insomnia

Fantasy no more
Battle of the bed lost

We the people are too human. All too human
We the people are 6 foot 6 but live in fear just for kicks. Human, all too human we the people live life, checking lists

9-5 gigs, check
College, Check!
Marriage, check!
Kids, check! Check check!
Divorce, a big fat bank check

human all too human

The bright green cleats, the long socks and the chin guards.
He wears them proudly, dreaming to be the next world football star!

Early morning, we drive through the winding roads! The green field is waiting, his blue army chanting.. He runs joyfully to the battle ground! Full of life!  For that young lad, the world is simply a game of kick and pass!

He sits on the bench.. once called to the game, I see a wide smile on his face.. and its a face of full of dreams, innocence yet also fueled by our instinct to fight, win and celebrate.

Game over!  He runs to me and the first thing he asks.. "did I play well dad?"

sitting here in paradise but my mind is elsewhere, thinking of vice.  i want to make a move, again!  feels like its time to throw the dice! but there is a voice in me that says "don't vagabound like mice".  time slow down and be lazy. listen to sound advice!

bourdem is staying too long in a place without seeing its paradise.

living in paradise like mice....its paramice
dreaming of crossing the ocean to see the mountains of ice...
living in paradise like headless mice
wearing my shades of vice

A son’s life gone at sea ,
Sudden death it is
Mr Joe black has no mercy
Takes  who he wants , even the young , the pure and the free
Mr Joe black , you are our destiny
You are the end , the friend and the enemy
Take life to let life be
Amori fati ,
Momento mori,
That is all I can plea

Listening to the sound of music
The silent language between anguished lovers
Ones who are vanquished by the mighty storm of tradition and norm.

they walk the beach together under two separate sunsets and they dance the night together void of each other’s arms. They travel together in two separate cars, sleep under the same roof in two separate rooms, he with his bride, she with her groom. A romance that died before it was born !  

Words were never spoken, though the eyes spoke

Vows were never broken, and the hearts broke

The unspoken is taboo
The untold is true
The unsaid is “ I love you”

#romance #love #brokenheart #

Against the odds of wind, earth and fire , she started as a seed that was washed by the rain from the common land of trees. On the steep ***** of mountain red , where all rocks are dead, the tree that should not be some how came to being.  

She is not  your everyday green! Her colors came to be in a desert that was once a sea ! She stands tall in this place we call fear!  Some would say that she is lonely up there where no plant has ever set roots; others would say it’s serendipity and nothing more. Tales will be told and theories will unfold about a life that devoured mainstream folklore. But in the end, it’s the likes of that mountain tree that created giant leaps!

In a world that doesn’t understand it’s purpose, we drink our life at the bar rather than venture to find our north star

In this journey, some find their reason but many loop in one single season. Round and round the carousel, life slowly becomes a living hell!

Wasted days, wasted waves. Waves that were never ridden, never surfed. waves that crash into the sand

So I ask you, right here, right now, how many wasted waves, how many wasted days will slip into oblivion ?!

I dare you to play!  play all the keyboard and leave no musical notes. Let’s play all melodies and all songs! Cause there is so much to do and so much to see and only one life to be.  

One life and you gone. One life then you are dust and bones. Momento Mori!

Go ! Go die at sea . Never die at bay , like those ships that never sailed .  

Throw away that suit and wear your old dusty boots and travel like a vagabond that has no bond.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl in a house with a red door.
She is not what she seems
She is not who she appears

In the dim light of the window I saw eyes, I saw a smile and a dance

Her eyes spoke to me in silence, they were calling me, they were screaming at me. It was the scream of a butterfly trying to flap her wings high in a green blue sky

The doors were locked and the windows were shut.
There she stood, my morning star,
wanting to shine, wanting to be where she belongs in the green blue sky

Stars belong to skies and butterflies too!  Rainbows also

Why do we build houses with locked doors?  Why do we chain ourselves where we don’t belong? why don’t we free our souls and break big red doors?

Stars belong to skies and butterflies too...  Rainbows also.
She belongs not behind closed red doors.  No, no .. not that beautiful soul

Something about the smoking chimney of a house,
sitting on rolling hills of a field enclaved by faraway trees.

From the outside, they are all smoking chimneys. . .
On the inside, is a house, a people, and their journeys
Each has a story to tell,
bittersweet,
a blend of heaven and hell

And in the end, all the lives and the stories of those folks,
go up up in smoke
through the chimneys, in the air
to disappear 🫥 in the atmosphere.

Then moves in another people under that same chimney, to create their new story

Life is but a dream

A coyote lives across the street
She has plans,
she has schemes,
she has tricks up her sleeves

One day she will smile at your face
another, she will disappear without a trace.
she will hold your hand,
take you to wonderland,
and leave you there to your fate

that coyote who lives across the street
the one with plots up her sleeves,
that black magic woman with  fake tears
a trickster, a shifter, and a lustful lier,
that little tiny thief

Some are one trick ponies
but beware of coyotes,
they are no phonies,
They imitate, manipulate
and when the time is right.....they intimidate

Cunning, she waits
digging her trap
setting her bait

She can be anyone one
She can no one
The Coyote who lives up the street