Although art and science together
seem contradictory,
beauty is
as mathematical
as subjective.

For example;

the infinite number of pi;
the hourglass figure.
The divine proportion.

And you.

Some sculptures
Become more beautiful
by time
by weathering.

The Thinker, by Rodin
For example, I know
For sure that
when the last piece

was hewn
Looked less
impressive than it
does right now.

But you ..

Should I make a picture
of you right now
right there

as you are
lying down
in the grass

your lowerback
The ground
Not touching

then all Thinkers
Would realize

that they today
or earlier

never were as
Beautiful
As you
there, now.

Lying there, in
that Lucky grass






in the grass.

"I've missed you so much,"
I prepare as I walk through the door.

The rich scent of sweet cream
waffle cones and
brownie chunks
float in the air as thick as
smoke
in a happy car.

Her eyes are small and poignant,
tiny apostrophes,
commas beneath her blonde curls.

I stand by the door as she helps a customer.
I've missed her so much.

She glances up and her
perpetual glare fades.
The commas light up,
brilliant,
and the sentence is completed
by the curl of her lips.

I love that smile.
"I've missed you so much."

‘Twas autumn when I found you broken there
Reduced to mutt, a once proud hound lay still –
Fur dripping salty rain – lost eyes unfilled
With hope or love of self, your spirit bare.
I let you in my chamber not aware
The drowning heart in loss had lost its will,
Yet you taught love, and I to laugh until
The walls were naught and of one soul we shared.
But when she found us, jealousy grew real;
She told me pure and harmless love was more,
And so you left, her will consented to,
With comfort that in storm at least you feel.
She thought my virtue left at beauty’s door;
Were it she knew, ‘twas me I saw in you.

Kiss me, before I forget the taste of delicacy
Before my eyes haze over with the dullness of all that is not you.
Do you even hear me?
          Screaming behind false teeth
                    Dying behind emotionless eyes

          Submerge your head in the depth of your reflection
                    But do not forget who patiently waits at the edge of the bank


                    If just once your eyes did not betray the curve of your lips
                              If once I thought your laugh was pure



                              Perhaps then I would survive too.




                                        Until then I will wait for you to resurface





                                                  ­Or retrieve your drowned body from the sea.

How strange it is to recall the bitterness of a New England Winter's chill
On this  Summer day in Los Angeles, sipping from a glass of water as we both perspire in the heat.

Stranger still, that death comes in the Summer, after all that laboring Spring
When life's breathed out of bodies and gently thickens through the sweet smelling air.

Winter stings the nostrils, quickening the blood -  lets us know we are still alive.

But right now, I am in the midst of a pleasant day dream.

Dear traveler,
It derives as a stillness.
The timid muse, the quiet before a storm;
And the storm, it's at close quarters.
Be conscious of this.

Dear traveler,
You ****** the sound of silence.
And surely, the outbreak did come,
Did it not?
The torrent of corrupt introspection,
Arrives only to plague you, friend.

Dear traveler,
This interval has no expiration.
And no time to construe.  
The steps you brave aren't impeccable,
So hurdle the stakes,
For behind you is a fiasco.  

Dear traveler,
Proverbs of fire,
Are being spat towards the soul.
You are made of oil,
And rigged to explode.
This horde has not one heed,
Of how you emerge gold.

I am blurry
Even my eyes can't see clearly
My life has become complicated
And predictable
My heart has lost depth
My passion for life and meaning
Is slowly drifting away
This is
In fact
What I wanted
I lived to see the truth
To peak at reality
I gave it all up
Because I wanted to keep my sanity
I used to be strong, independent, and confident
I saw my reality as so
Ever since, my life has changed
I am an endless trip
Obsessed with herself
An active member of society
Secretly insane
I am hungry for more
To finally be myself
To be real
There is a sadness in all people
They are all crazy
I will go crazy to fit in
If thats what it takes!
My ambition is gone
My talent no more
Brain dead
Is ignorance is in fact what they say?

each night in bed
wrestling with the moon
and my sheets
i write poems in my head
intellectual one night stands
forgotten in the morning
just words whispered away
in the cool breeze of the AC
before i fall asleep
these are my favourites
the stillborn prose
my own dark harvest
lingering like a sweet hangover
of imploding thoughts
they are mine now
gone in the dark
lost forever in my head