~
he who is a little ahead of his time
whose treasures of the words random
romanticism is in the blood, marrow,
his mood is as the autumn clouds

he who has lost his path within path
drowning with dreams, sunk you within dreams  
again holds thousands of lost dreams
fly the colorful kites in the blue sky

he who hide within himself
**** in his naked poetry
In forms humorous,harmonic  
as a portrait of the Vincent's starry night

he is a pilgrim who has lost himself within spirituality  
holds everything with the love  
who is for everybody so everybody is for him
But in fact there is nothing in all his

he who is simple straight as the waterfall
when in complex grew hard stone
who broke rules for building rules,
knows himself within the other life

whose words never be end
again he moves on and on
who laughs in the moonlight
again swept in pain without thinking any gain

who looks the life
as a grain of sand
and see the sign of love
in the footprint of a fossil

he who is a poet -
~

when the love is gone
you grit your teeth
you curse the sky
you fall beneath

when the love is gone
you close your eyes
you tell yourself
no more goodbyes

when the love is gone
you're on your own
you look around
you're all alone

I know nothing about
The semblances of affection,
Or the pretension of passion;
I only know one kind of love:
The one I can't part from,
I really cannot, I really don't not.
I suffer ultra extreme separation anxiety.
No psychotic weird stuff.
We don't want to be apart,
But we do, for years at times.
I'm not a simpering wimp,
Or a wimpering simp.
This love lasts a lifetime,
A sane lifetime.
It makes me want to live.
I'll succumb to prayer and hope,
Whatever to never have it end.
     (I do mean never)
One love shouldn't have to subscribe
To the same cruel rules as everything
     (I do mean everything)
Else.
Something serious is askew
When one love leaves and love
Lives on in the other.
Our love lived once,
But died twice.