It was a tragedy like no other.
It was a memory that could not have been erased.
It was the choice that begged.
It was a risk I needed to take.

It was another world.
It was the one last option.
It was faith.
It was destiny.
It was life.

It was style.
It was glamour.
It was serene.
It was peace.

It was a song that sang
It was a voice that spoke
It was a mind that dreamed
It was a soul that hoped

It was a feeling like no other
It was a figure that would not disappear
It was a thought of me
It was a dream of you

It was the voice that once spoke
It was those whispers in my ears
It was the name I called
It was the thing that answered

**It was you

Her glancing blows held savage looks,
Sparkling with mischievous intent.

O that grin of hers could turn the Sun;
Draw Him close to sneak a glare
And we’d sizzle as one beneath the Sun,
In a moment of deathly rapture.

She said yes,
Such a shame
The ring is formed from soot.

Strong winds may uproot you
Unsettle your stoic resignation
You will be shaken and stirred
Lot of ponderings and doubts
In the middle of nowhere
When gravity does not give hope
Become a fearless traveler
Encounter the strong winds
No matter where you settle
Continue to spread your roots, deeper
Your soul is still with you
Nothing can stop you from reliving
Every unsettling episode
Will teach you to be more resilient

isn't it odd
how we can know
human nature
well enough
to write poems
that move others
to tears
yet must hear
the words of others
to cry
alone
.

There are 10 kinds of people in this world,
and binary accounts for them all.

They're happy and sad.
They're ones and zeros.
Villains and heroes.
Villains, yet not all bad.
Despite everything life decides to hurl;
Despite every brick ball of fear
Through the stained glass windows of their minds,
Through it all, they survive.
They're angry and glad.
They're happy and sad.

And in their duality, they're still smiling there
at your sharp hasty words
at your venomous hurt
that you wish so desperately they, too, shared.

You say love is this, love is that:
Poplar tassels, willow tendrils
the wind and the rain comb,
****** and drip, ****** and drip—
branches drifting apart.  Hagh!
Love has not even visited this country.

How gloriously awesome...
And priviledged to taste,
partake or waste!

How fragile like glas...
How fleeting like fire.....
How precious and short....

This beauty we call LIFE
Just one last breath...
One last thought....
One last beat....

One last touch...
Fragile like glass!!!