Memories are written

In ink that never dries.

We recraft and remold them

To help us all get by.

Some of the things that you remember

Are just a bunch of lies.

Sometimes I start a poem

But then my interest dies.

I think, "what's the point"

If the truth has been excised?

I saw the sunset-colored sands,
The Nile like flowing fire between,
Where Rameses stares forth serene,
And Ammon’s heavy temple stands.

I saw the rocks where long ago,
Above the sea that cries and breaks,
Bright Perseus with Medusa’s snakes
Set free the maiden white like snow.

And many skies have covered me,
And many winds have blown me forth,
And I have loved the green bright north,
And I have loved the cold sweet sea.

But what to me are north and south,
And what the lure of many lands,
Since you have leaned to catch my hands
And lay a kiss upon my mouth.

Darkness covered the skies,
While my body was restless with the tides.
I tried not to wait for the sunrise,
Because, it just reminded me of your eyes.

I remember holding you in my arms,
While surrendering to the stars,
Hoping to never fall apart.

The touch of your hand with mine,
The smell of Calvin Klein,
The taste of cherry wine,
Intoxicating me inside.

I didn't see this in cards,
Or the rolling dice in our hearts.

I imagined a future,
With the definition of forever.

But, now I see-
We were never meant to be.

When tomorrow comes,
Without the taste of ***,
We will find someone.

Now it is time for me to go,
And leave this pain for the runaways-
So, Goodbye, my Summer's Day!

What loss would it be?
What cost would it take?
To borrow such wings,
To fly to the King?

Follow his lead,
To hear him teach,
To know what it means,
To believe in the Dream.

Watch him dance in the grass,
Drinking from heaven's glass,
Singing,
"Free at Last... Free at Last..."

i am the book my son reads
and i often wonder what he sees
empty pages filled with the mundane
or a colourful piece of art

does he see my fearlessness
and my backbone made of steel
perhaps the circles under my eyes
betrays me

will he understand that life
is filled with moments that startle you
to heed the call of the world
and every adventure that beckons

i often stare at my reflection and wonder
am i, what he would want aspire to
fervently grasp opportunities and believe
to not settle for mediocrity

each time i boubt myself
i silently promise him
every part of me will strive
to better the next chapter he reads

The picture spoke a thousand lies,
A thousand lies but not a word.
We stare, obsess, we analyse,
But not a word was spoke or heard.
That intoxicated smile hides
That painful party, now a blur.
Pictures mask what stays inside
And only show us as we were.
No fair display of life in truth,
They capture only our disguise.
She appeared content for all her youth,
A theory which she now denies.