Like a solemn
blossom,
he makes his appearance,
this hindrance,

in my rooftop,
with a flip-flop,
in cherubic
outfit,
oh so tiny
and limy!

This perplexing
cherubim, mixing
beams and a pigment
from a distant
perfection,
shouts 'action!',
up on my rooftop!

I climb the immense
leather
in my underware
- oh what a brilliance
of a ****
homemade!

I say 'salutations,
in this christmas' occasion!',
he moves backward,
the makeshift,
and then forward,
in his heart a lift,
engorged,
in my beauty scorched!

As his host
I had started a toast
but went speachless
finding him flightless,
for a wingless cherubim
was he...!

But it's Christmas,
so in ranges
we had some oranges
and tequila,
for pain healer.

On my rooftop
as a isthmus,
oh gods of Olympus!,
we hear a pop,
a cackle,
stars as sprinkles
of kringles!
- Oh oh, is it Santa?!
- Oh no, it's my Claus...!

She walked away, and I shouted back, "I'm not asking for forever!"
She stops. She turns in the aisle and sadly smiles.
"That's why I'm leaving." My own smile drops.
And that's the end of that endeavour. Because time never really stops.
Forever is all some people want, and they won't settle for just a while.
Even if a while is all that I've got.

Love letters in the sand
Today 
Tomorrows destiny will be written 
And I'm hoping it will be with you 
You live in my imagination 
In the lids of my eyes
You come alive in my dreams
Looking out at the pure sea
The winds bid me farewell 
But me, I have made friends
With the night 
In the absence of the moon 
Where your eyes are the only light 
Let the wind carry my words to you

it's amazing to feel a sense of shy belonging
for souls that I only know from what I've been reading,
some words about how they think  and feel,
their letters of meaning, black on HP blog.
sometimes I ask myself if there's a truth in what they write,
if there's a real pain or joy inside
or it's just a mind thing that comes and goes
from their huge empathy and loving soul.

because reader,
if beauty is not enough in life to be,
the writers will die trying to make you see,
do not worry for wasting time,
another poet will be alive
to show anyone what is worth living for,
you just be an open soul.

Cut through the imaginary chains
Get a grip on the life’s reins
The journey maybe tough
Diamonds are polished by the rough
Journeying through the dark
Frictions may cause temporary spark
Running frantically across difficult territory
The pain and agony is just transitory
Life is there to celebrate
When you are confident and don’t speculate

Deal the cards
I nibble the bait
Same old game
Just the same

I love to play
When I’m lost
in
In false intentions

Blinded by the glow
Like a crow
Who's found the shiniest
Bottle cap
But doesn't know

It’s really not
Made of
the
The finest gold

I wise up
Call your bluff
Show me your cards
The gig is up

Seen it all
Been there before
The hand was planned

Hate to win
I haven’t won
You were never there
& you’re still gone

What  vast  and  unveiled  sand  before  me  lies?

It  is  the  desert,
where  the  morning
cries  farewell
to  treacherous  night;    
willingly  fleeing  
as  dunes  set  alight!

Day  has  arrived  oh!
…  and  so  the  harsh  sun …
who  only  disappears
when  day  has  done.


So  friendly  and  mild
at  first  in  the  morn.
With  its  temper  soft,
and  kind  without  scorn.
But  when  it  sees  clearly
the  vast  empty  sands,
it flares  up  in  rage
with  fiery,  flaming  hands.


Burning  on  thorns
reluctantly  growing
like  ungrateful  creatures
to  the  sun’s  overflowing:
A whole  night  has  passed
and  naught  has  been  done!


How  cruel  can you  be,
o  merciless  sun!

Thinking of the mountains in your heart that you try and hide so consciously,
Making it a point to return to them in the midnight,
A walk through the cragged surface again and a dream of the starry sights,
2 A.M in the night, dark outside, darker inside.
The slightest hint of light that catches the eye be an excuse for the sleep-deprived.
You dream,
You toss and turn.

The thoughts that meander through the lives you live, the alternate realities.
The right and wrong of every decision you’ve ever made tortures, you’re never safe.
You can see the slightest mistakes, the lumps forming in your throat.
You let your demons win, your mind an evil lair.  
The devils take up the spaces, the light escapes.
The eyes are sunken, but the mind still reckless,
Unapologetic  to the poor heart.
You toss and turn.

And when the heart pleads mercy,
Your body complies.
Curling up further under the blanket,
You give it another try.
Night after night, the same routine,
This life a long, lonely suicide.
The flashback, the memories, the love lost finds a space.
You toss and turn.

Waking up in the morning.
The day isn't bright.
Calm as water to the people
Volcanoes erupting on the inside.

The box of thoughts you lock away,
Pretending you've lost the keys.
Nights you spend in a corner.
What is it you seek?

You walk on a tight rope
Falling, your only choice.  
Blink, and people will notice
The tears forming in your eyes.

Storm's coming your way.
And you've been out with only an umbrella.
You think you are strong?
The fake laughters and smiles.
You've been at it for much too long.

The days will be brighter,
Shorter will be the nights.
You've been carrying a river inside you
For quite a while.
I know you can't try harder,
But love, it's okay to cry.