Standing here at the pier,
I take in my surroundings,
trying to keep my heart steady and my mind clear.

A crowd envelopes me as we all wait for that one person.
Men are holding flowers,
Women holding children,
Children holding signs.

Standing here at the pier,
I hold nothing but my heart in my hands,
Waiting until we may embrace again.

My mouth waters while my stomach twists into knots.
The air tastes of candy scented perfume.
Trying to get rid of the taste,
I take a swig of cold, refreshing water that also helps ease my stomach

Standing here at the pier,
My stomach ties in knots,
Waiting to see your face again.

Figures start to head my way.
I gasp.
Frantically, my eyes search the crowd,
Searching for just a glimpse of you.

Standing here at the pier,
My heart will not steady,
My mind hectic with just wanting to see you.

The crowd starts to disappear,
They've found they're family
They're heading home
With their family, and I'm

Standing here at the pier,
Longing to find you,
Wishing to find you soon.

A tall figure starts heading in my direction.
I squint to see
Is that you?
My lungs fill with air and I run.

My vision blurs, but its okay.
I know where I'm going.
I'm running.
Running home to my family.

Our bodies collide in a warm embrace,
I'm lifted up off the ground and swung around,
"I've missed you so much, Dad."
I tell him through sobs.

"I've missed you too baby girl.
Lets go home."
Linking our pinkies together, we walk

Together again.
We're headed home.

The neurons that fires up so elegantly at the will of the conscious being ,
Invoking memories that were stored in the past Becomes the curse of the human birth,
Inability to forget the past but making inroads and back lanes towards it.
Creating highways, water ways and airways, to a memory that needs to be forgotten holds us back in life.
But is revisited again and again like it is my best friend.
A curse.
No schools or universities teach about how to forget and let go,
We are so engrossed on what others have done what the past has taught us,
But the past is never the best map for the future.
As I become conscious of this conscious state of myself.
I become silent and let the thoughts past by,
I do not touch nor feel it or engage with it in anyway,
I forget as soon as it end.
Full stop

Chaque jour, chaque nuit,
Á la recherche de l'infinie.
Ton ombre me fait compagnie,
Sans toi je vis.



Les moments de notre amour,
Les chemins avec des mûrs.
Les fleurs que tu as cueillis,
Sans toi je vis...



Toujours with les beaux sourires,
Un oiseaux qui voulait partir...
Je me souviens de ta machine á écrire,
Ton visage, le souvenir...




Le papier blanc toujours passionné,
Mon amour est blessé,
Tous les mots avec tendre passion,
Je vis e navigue dans ton monde d'illussion.


Victor Marques