One ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

Three rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,

Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

I did knock the tree trunk
Harder and harder,
as though i am a woodpecker.
in search of something inside it
and to ask the question
But what i get,
is not an answer,
but a few dried leaves
waiting to fall on me and die on the ground.

I did throw pebbles
on the banks of a river
Farther and Farther,
in the quest of something below the water
to ask the question.
But what i get
is not an answer,
but a splash of tiny drops
waiting to touch my skin and get dried up.

I did run in the direction of the wind
Faster and faster
to defeat it, to stop it
and to ask the question
But what i get
is not an answer
but a heavy breathlessness
eating up my energy, and splashing the sweat all over.

And finally i did fight with God
and prayed with utter dedication
But I still don't get an answer
Because he says, the answer is within me
My conscience should answer and no one else.

He says: "Its alright not to know the answers
For they are meant to come to you
when you least expect them."

When I am gone,
find me in the
slow, creeping morning light
at dawn
when the dew glistens
and returns to its creator.

When I am gone,
find me in the sparrow
that swoops and bends
to find the perfect place
in a giving tree.

When I am gone,
find me in the genuine smiles
of those around you
whom you fill with great joy.

When I am gone,
find me in the radiant sun
peaking through the clouds
giving light to the world.

When I am gone,
feel my love
for my love is a candle
ever burning, never fading,
always understanding that
sometime we will meet again
soon.

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens