I cough words
onto a page,
and hold it up to the world.
They call it art, they call it poetry.

Invariably,
You prefer to come
To me in the dark.
"You're more my temperature then,"
You once said.
I'm not much of a thermometer,
But I am the eurythmy
To each syllable you give
In such settled shadow.
A play of murmurs and fingertips,
You once named this.
Always I see a wreath in your hair,
In colors of Persia,
Textures of night,
And the soft blended lines
Of you I know
Infallibly.

Sometimes,
I just wanna leave
everything and everyone
Just to see who'll find me
In the crowd of thousands
Will ever someone actually
be bothered about my absence
I wanna sit back and watch

-   SASR

Words float in the air
They rearrange themselves into a sentence
form a picture of a train and roll away

Words shaped like balloons
They float away but will be back soon

Words hiding in a tree
Leaves fall to the ground and form sentences for me

Musical notes rearrange themselves on a scale
Fingers jumping from fret to fret
or dancing on the piano keys
These are some of the things I see

Ocean waves roll in and write on the sand
Once it just wrote, "I AM"
Seashells with words lie on the beach
In a sentence they realign
Thank you Lord for this beautiful mind

neon lights
illuminate the night’s
heavy clouds

while rain muffles
the constant urban humming

pierced by distant sirens
moving slowly
through concrete canyons.

I carry you in my heart;
in my head; in my bones.
I would have carried you to the earth's end,
but now, you are simply mulch.

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