Lonely is my friend
                We'll always end up

  Meeting
          Once
  
                 Again

Sit me
      Down

   Sipping
          Drowning in

                

   T
       e
           a    


                                Enjoying no ones



                                            Company.

When no one else was there to save me,
it was.
It always wraps me in its warmth,
Listens to my every sob,
Pats me in sympathy and comfort.
It's been my lifelong friend.

Most kids are afraid of the dark,
But really there's no need.
Darkness has always been my friend

Let it storm and

let it burn and let it all wash

over like the crashing waves of

turbulent air.



I am nothing yet I am the storm;

I rage as the fire and burn as soot in smoke

inhaled.



I am the storm's eye, the

cold core of burning logs, the

quiet stone resisting the the thunder of waves, the



emptiness of my existence.

fuzzy buzzy flickering light fixtures
court me for days -
tired, unlatched
and in a daze

broken hinges hang from
untapped doorways,
painted with
shattered looking glasses
and laces overthrowing
unseen faces
crawling at ungodly paces,

blind red rages boil over
onto sentient pages to die
on unlit stages,
reeking with rows
of rotting audiences,
decomposing millions of
masterpieces.

sleepless death
undertaken,
like a sorry soul,
to a hole new level
six breaths under

reborn into a dogs tail
clenched between
it's own teeth.

Don't create
Friends
or
Enemies...

You'll get
caught up
in your
own creation...

Learn to
remain in
solitude
with everything
around you*...

There is a certain beauty in a broken cup. A delicate elegance in an abandoned building or a disheveled old man. Some ghostly grace to a tattered dress.

Wabi-Sabi is a Japanese expression relating to the wonder of imperfection. To be sensitive to the natural way of things, to deny idealism for what is and to revel in it is the path of a true seeker, of a true poet.

Some fleeting moments pass by-
             like golden hues
                     carrying magic
that is only felt
              when all comes to an end.

Greenery, O you beautiful thing, barely visible in the wake of early dawn.
Amidst the darkness,dew drops form across your petals.
Sometimes visible like crystals at my lawn.
I look through you, the ray has hit your window,
As I try to grasp the details you reflect like a mirror,
You perish upon my gentle touch,
And here I thought you would turn into gold.
Oh my, I sure am getting old.
Searching for answers within the dew drops of the early dawn,
Knowing everyone just started to yawn,
And lift their sleepy heads,
Here I am standing,wondering where do these dew drops lead to.
Dew drops,you are like ripples of tiny bubbles,
But sometimes,I feel you are the tear drops that fall from the eyes of my own.
And sometimes,I think you are the drops of love from the vast ocean,
Endless,with no edges or corners,
Perfect in your own solitude.

Rain wet pavements are mirrors to
Yellow lights and subtle neon.
Click-clacks of women in a hurry,
Even the taxi drivers are too
Tired to use their horns.

Leaves the size of Samson's hands
Keep dropping around me,
Sticking to the ground
As if glued into the scrapbook
Of autumn.

Somewhere between cold and
Not. Winter and fall.
Morning and night.
Alone in a world full of others
Than me.

Given to dharmas, my ignorance. (?)
Given to paths crossing, to others leaving one
far cast from the shore, my trust. (?)

No current floats alone in the ocean.

Drop by drop be led,
thanking all the way
each unseen life and silver fish guardian,
towards the veracious
colored ring
forever in the distance,
deep and
deep.

Given to the kalpas, my passion. (!)
Truculent waves of time behemoth
rising from the depths
ripple the surface
and show those that thought you long forgotten
the beauty, in the shallows,
of the sunset broken,
dancing. (!)