If you can't find the things you Love,*
Love the things you find...

"It's just one night",
said the Sun at last light
to the bird in flight.

she's as beautiful as her pieces
sadly she'll never know
that I hold her with high regard, no
she'll never know I yearn for her kisses

only possible impossibilities
to burn the sun and soak the Ocean
to sweeten Honey and value money
to freeze ice and melt water
to heat the desert a little hotter,
to empty the vacuum
his dreams were nightmares

Each time I log in, I straight away leap into my inbox
Like a hungry wounded fox
which I scan a million times just to be sure
Particularly when your name isn’t among the unread
Then I attempt refreshing the page imagining there’s
a message awaiting to pop up…
I don’t do this because I am impatient, which I occasionally am
But because I think you love me by almost an equal measure
and think you understand how painful missing you really feels…
Try it sometimes, try missing you and see the hell it puts me through
Try missing those eyes that glow brighter than sapphire
Eyes that are an insult to the sparkle of the stars,
yet unto the glow of the full moon an infuriating satire
Try missing those soft palms that used to hold to mine
and bloom in me ornaments of valour and comfort
Try a day without your stunning lips that I’d only cease to kiss
when my lungs in envy compelled me to gasp for breath
since you are a jewel that my shackled heart wont share with
anyone, not even my distraught mind
try missing your perfume, your orchestral voice
maybe then you’ll understand better when I say I have no choice…
try persevering the pain the other person in my mirror bears
seeing yet unable to touch you, near yet so far
it’s like Moses’ grief when yards away lay the promised land
he couldn’t reach, not even by the help of his sea splitting magical wand…
the bottom line is I miss you, I miss me…but the thing I miss most is “us”.

It may take a million years*
But someday someone'll see the love beneath my tears

The crescent moon be my perch.
        A bough from which I extend my arm.
Careful fingers grasp my brush...
And with it I shall fill the void
with the universe.                

               The crescent moon be my hammock.
Upon which I lean fully into,
to seek restful recluse.                
Should my body start to buckle...
        From the heavy hopes of wistful eyes.

   The crescent moon be my anchor.
From which I draw                
my inspiration and strength.
                   She would cradle and sway me gentle...
      When wilting hearts spill unto me
the callous wiles of the world.    

The crescent moon be my well.        
A fount through which my palette        
remains full with an                                 
abundant array of silvery white.        

Just so...                                 
I could conjure for others,
       what their hearts so desire.

Just so...                      
I could grant them       
             needed solace and tranquillity.

Just so...                 
                          I could infinitely paint for them
the stars...

Maybe someday the hard I try
and the tears I cry
will be for someone else…
Maybe someday
the miles I walk
and the journeys I make
will be for someone else
Maybe someday
the dawns I watch
the splendid view of the ocean
the clear nights filled with stars
will be with someone else
can’t be sure,
even the kisses
the wounds and scars
inflicted by someone else…
Maybe someday I'll be
enduring cold nights,
making up after fights
and enjoying felicitous dances
in twinkling disco lights
with someone else...
Maybe someday
the one I call my Mrs.
will be someone else.
You never know,
they say life's what happens
contrary to our plans
but until life happens,
you are my everything…