A gleaming, sharpened  sword, SHE could **** without bloodshed,
HE is Buddha's gift of light, surging above, wind and waves,
they wouldn't cross each other's path it would seem, from the outset,
                                      but both are sublime,
in higher realms they permeate, in greater cycles they spread,
the sword that's her at that level of awareness
never would shed or touch blood, but cut away confusions, with light,
whichever be the path, once one  becomes accomplished,
peace would fill and lighten the soul, preparing to soar to the abode eternal.

Like to the sun-tanned rocks was his skin;
Gold with a tiny shade of gray.
Like to the curling moss clinging to the trunks of oaks
Was his wise beard.
Here we see a spirit of the river.
This Free Spirit, as old and wise as the boulders
That shape curves in the waters,
And yet as young and fresh as the newborn dragonflies
That fly through the air and between trees.
Here we see a spirit,
One whose lips were shaped in a constant smile,
One whose lungs evoked constant laughter,
One who never ceased to love those around him,
Nor cease to love himself.
Here is a Free Spirit,
Now in the next world,
Playing paddle ball on the beach.
Here is a Free Spirit,
At peace and smiling.

*This poem is dedicated to my dear friend Daniel Free Spirit, who passed away last week. Though the river will never be the same without his playful self there, his spirit is in the water, the rocks, the sand, and the trees. I will always greet his spirit with a kiss to the wind. Rest in peace my friend.

So here's the scene.

I have a girl,
And she's my world.
But here's the thing,
For the longest time,
I've liked this girl,
(we'll call her Kay and my girl, May)
For quite some time.
Eight years if you wanna be on the dime.

And I love May,
But desire Kay.
It's something I struggle with day-to-day.

I want to leave and run for Kay,
But there is nothing wrong with May.
I'm not for sure if I should run.
But when I'm with Kay we have so much fun.

It's a real kind of thing,
And you can feel her feelings
But on the outside,
She's just looking at the ceiling.

Why do things have to be so confusing?
Does God just find it that amusing?


I know exactly what to do.

Love her with all of my heart.
But that's really the easiest part.

I know exactly what to do.
I just don't know who.

A lovers diary

Yes I am a lover.

I have hearts pasted on my wall,
along with posters of cars and all.
I wake up in the morning to see a balloon heart hanging overhead.
And as the days progresses, hearts pop out of my mouth and my breath.
My perfume smells of soft delicious rose
and people say with my feelings I’m very verbose.

I like to talk about my heart and feelings,
and stuff every word I say with meaning.

On one meaningful occasion I was in the lawn,
when a lazing cat gave out a yawn.
I turn around right then to see,
The queen of love – Penelope.
She was the one all lovers wanted to be,
Me included. Ones I told her “I worship thee!”
She stared at me like I was mad,
And said slowly, “Beauty is a fad.
Come know me, and you will see,
that I’m just another glowing bee.”

Saying this she walked on away,
With me staring broadly,
and my eyes in a sway.

Ahhh! How she looked at me!
with big brown eyes I could only see.
How she moved and she swayed in her grace as a cat,
And sat in her car like lounging on a mat.

What she said, was it true?
or was it just her words turning blue?
coz my mind was blank when she was talking to me.
didn’t seem to hear or tamper a beat.

That day and today.
it’s been a long time since then.
now she is walking towards me again.
But this time I don’t quiver or lose my breath,
as she walks up close after our eyes met.
She smiles at me “you’re a grown-up now”
I smirk back remembering how.
All those years have changed me.
I used to be the love struck teenager,
and felt like I was three.

Now I was big. black. n bold,
With biker gloves and chains made of gold.
My eyes saying I know secrets unsaid,
And if you say stuff I don’t like,
then take care of your head.

I no longer talk about my feelings,
or fill my words with meaning.
people don’t care about what I say,
Now all they do is cover their heads and pray.

No one asks me what’s that secret behind my eyes,
No one knows that I too pray when I hide.
But the one secret no one knows,
Is that I still have a red heart,
that flutters when the winds of love blow,
And how it turns warm and gives out a glow.

If someone would care to ask,
I would talk about my feelings.
Say everything out, of how I changed without meaning.