Through the glass
Behind which
Her face
Was the fountain
In the sunlight
I caught her smile
And pinned that
In my eyes
So that
Whenever
She is upset
I might show her
My mirrors
That will reflect
How good she was
When she smiled

Be the wind
Not the sand

When you are in a desert

there is a fire in my chest
that roars with every breath i take
i am suffocating,
choking on the fumes

at night, i am my own firefighter
i use the jaws of life to cut open my skin,
reach inside of myself
and extinguish whatever is burning me alive
until the flames re-ignite again in the morning.

grey eyes and gold buzzcut
psychopathic smile, tongue like candy
calloused palms, arms like a bomb shelter
wrapped in a bow of good intentions and charm
christmas came early that year,
you were all mine.

We all have a story to tell.
We can stand alone or become part of a bigger picture together.
We come in different shapes and sizes.
We are all part of a kaleidoscope of various colors like individual gems.
We are each unique but we can band together and become part of a masterpiece.
Some of us maybe smoother than others.
Some of us maybe a little bit jaded.
Some of us may have more lines than others.
While some of us are shapelier than others.
We can choose to shine alone or shine together like precious gems to become a masterpiece of stained glass, if we join together and let the light shine through us.
Let your light shine.

Falling and rising are separate roads
Falling is sure. Be courageous enough to change the road....

Friends are heroes
Visible and invisible
Sung and unsung
And some of them
Like stars,
rise out of the blue
I find mine in
the compartment:
Long in the tooth
Undressed, untidy
And subject to stitches
Our loya guards
keep a tab
On our movements
Laughter and gossip
Our relatives
Blow our perspiration away
Our cemented roof
Streathens our shelter
Forgotten, abandoned,
Still our best companions.

A fish,
Tha lives
In the acquarium of time.

It stirs,
Memories slosh,

And I am
Bound to it

My blanket in cold.

A leaf,
That holds to a branch,

Growing old,
And its bark getting darker.

I know
It has fallen off.

I miss it
To watch others swing

And that
Had played like them

In all seasons
Withstanding everything.

A word,
Well spelled on a particular paper.

Now I am
A complementary part of it

To make
A meaningful sentence.

But that
Has melted, and I

Longingly
Search for it.

Walking is wisdom
People go out
Abandoning their
Comfort unstitched
Each step is
pulling the yoke
It is sunrise
What drives them out
And keep them running
Pushing each rock
That hinders their way
I am sure it is an invisible
Spirit that breathes inside
A special gift
Of God to them
Not for women
A message for those
Shouting for equality
Yesterday the rain
Hit hard like strip on the fur
And the man,
with his umbrella
Like a broken sieve,
Staggering fast
Due to his twisted leg
Crossed the road
Where ditches were the rungs
I made a good comeback
Though in the morning
My mind had been
The kettle on the fire
And like him crossed
The subway to reach my point
Coming back is the best harvest
After sowing seeds of going out
And Walking is their water to grow