Poetry is my release of emotions,
Into a world of words where I feel understood.

i am not a poet,

nor am i a poem.

i am not a writer,

nor a book.

i am not a painter,

nor a painting.

i am not a sculptor,

nor a sculpture,

i  am not the artist,

nor the muse.

i am an idea,

that exists

only

in your imagination

I stand.







In the middle of my lounge room.
Not wanting to sit,
In case I crease
My cream linen suit
I just so tirelessly
Ironed.

We trailed through the moonlit road
As I wiped the tears that streamed my face—
Everything was calm, everything was serene
It felt like we were passing by a city
That had long fallen to deep slumber;
Where had once all the rushing cars had gone,
Back and forth, non-stop, as their engines rattled
With much desperation, pleading to rest.

Step by step, we slowed our pace, feeling the cool breeze shying from us
As we came to a halt.
The leaves ruffled, still, and the stars twinkled brighlty.
Everything seemed to come together in perfect harmony.
It all felt quite bizzare yet astounding;
quite frightening yet calming;
quite gloomy yet comforting.
It was unlike anything I've ever experienced before–
Perhaps my heart and mind had finally been at peace
And that the turmoil inside had faded into nonexistence.

• ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ •
Who knew that what a known-to-be ordinary walk
Could turn into a magnificent, almost magical cure-
A cure for the mind that's filled with cloudy thoughts,
And a cure for the heart filled with pain and faults.
But what had truly made things better was..
Having you by my side amidst the whole tranquility
The entire scenery might have felt mysteriously unreal to me
But your presence was my reminder that it was all reality.
• ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ •

Staring at nature , dreams are near
Right in front of me
Life storms by like a hurricane
When life gives no answers
Ask nature to help
Animals listen
Fresh air, cool breeze
Warm days, different ways
Staring off in space
Feeling calm, quiet solitude
Watching baby bird
Build her nest
Sweet, sweet
Little bird
I can’t believe, I can see
All these animals
In these woods
Staring at nature

Like a stream that meanders
Cantering music sweet
Caprice treads whimsical
Lightly on her feet.

Like the wind that doesn't know
Where to gently breeze
Caprice breathes here, then there
... the air touched 'n teased.

Like the midnight stars that twinkle 
Through the darkness peer
Caprice in a wink
Appears to disappear.

Like the morning sunlight
That hides, then lights up hills
Caprice scampers up and down
Never a moment still.

Like waves and ocean tides
That ebb, rise and flow
Caprice heaves night and day..
Between her joys and woes.

Like raindrops and the rainbow
That hold the other's hand
Caprice sighs and smiles
In but a single glance.        

I wonder... if you sense her
Her murmurs, feel her warm breath
Caprice... right behind you —
Though you haven't seen her yet.

what is our purpose, if not to help,
why do we say these things, when they're not felt,
so focused on our next big break,
we've forgotten everyone it takes.

not meant to sit alone, meant to stand & test,
for those who refuse, for those who can't,
our helping hands only help so much,
set up against social norms & Picassos,
left to bludgeon, burgeon & bargain,
still only to be second best,
what Einstein life is this,
not one we lose to win.