I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

i do not believe in god
but i do believe in poetry
and for me
maybe poetry is prayer
and the universe
is an unwavering ear
in the shape of a god

Watching people drifting from one port to another
What matters is the trip say the others
But me, I wouldn't mind never coming to an end
Floating in an open sea until I start to fade
And stars above me sing to my name
For I touched them with words when they needed strength.
The oak wood softens as it never did before
It remembers my fists whenever we heard of wars
The sunlight still beams, dancing with the waves
My loved one still laughs like it's the first day we met
And the wind dries my eyes
That way I won't cry
When they come for me
And it's my time to say goodbye.

twisting
creeping
vines 'round my heart
thorns
piercing
tearing it apart
pressure
squeezing
dripping shards
paper skin
ripping softly
declaring love
absolutely falsely
dripping heat
blood falls
breaking hearts
an impressive feat
roses bloom
from seeds of shards
pure love
for you to discard