Growing old is scary for some
And a blessing for others:
We have live our life: the best way we know how
here we are all alone,
We are now living under different change of the body
Walking around with our portable therapy for instant energy
Long time ago it was
portable cassette or CD player with two or more loudspeakers:
those horrible double decker’s
Now it’s
problems of blood circulation.
Dozens of useless prescriptions,
  Directions that read take three to
Four times per day
So once again
Moving forward with all kinds of botheration to
Another slower lane to nowhere
Last but not least
Keep out of reach of small children
Before you reach the
Dead End Street

Let the beauty that we love be what we do.
— Jalal ad-Din Rumi

What do I care?
if the snow is higher than
the stop signs, but
still visible for pedestrian to see
no loading or standing zone

What do I care?
that dark lonely night is approaching
and my poor heart melt every time I think of you
what do I care

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
­
I could not, at any age, be content to take my place by the fireside and simply look on. Life was meant to be lived. Curiosity must be kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life.
— Eleanor Roosevelt

What if everything
Were revealed: about my whereabouts
Especially last night:
Was I somnambulism?
It time to get myself together,
I was all over the place
I have to channel my energies into something useful
I have to stay soulful
I have to stay focus
I am not a night walker.
But a vampire.

Silence is a sound
Silence is a text message
With just a smiley
Knowingly he cares
Silence is an image of the meadow
Waiting for the natural sound of the wind

Silence is reaching the top of the mountain
you look around in slow motion and said I did it
God **** it I did it!
Silence is just golden,
Silence is a sound

What is poetry? Is it a uniform thing?
Or a kaleidoscope dream images
Of a one- man team
a dimension of systematic thinking
His metaphors, his musical mode or
his original mistakably literal meanings

If I came to you and say
I see the love in your baby blue eyes
It reminds me of that sunny day.
When the clouds was still and I fire up my libido
Did I really fire up my libido or was the love in your eyes really blue
Even as you said to me
“I am going to **** you tonight with my loving
Was that nonliteral
Or one of your nonsensical fuss
Poetry is your own lovely way of
Woven out your most inner thoughts