Once, I saw you twice in one day.
Now, I get to wake up to you everyday.

Serendipity.

There is something so inexplicably beautiful about being broken, shattered onto the floor of darkness. Love can easily do that to you. One day your breath is taken and the next, your soul is broken.

If you were a cup made of porcelain you would need all pieces to be whole again, and the cracks would show. You wouldn’t match the rest of the set, and be discarded, thrown into the *******.

But the beauty of being human is that you get another chance. Out of the shattering you get choose which pieces you want, and the ones you don’t. The cracks may show in your eyes and on your skin, and that’s ok; there’s not another six like you.

Love the cracks in you, these are reminders that there was a time when you felt as if your soul almost died. Then, in a defining moment, you had the fight to step out from the darkness, and into your light to be whole again.

It’s in the cracks to which light enters, and ignites the soul.

She rifled through me like a set of old drawers,
clothes strewn all over the bed and floor.
My eyes gouged and thrown there,
my ears pulled off and tossed there,
my skin peeled and slung there,
my head decapitated and kicked there,
my mind bent and twisted right here,
but my heart surgically removed and dumped over there,
at the foot of the door, all alone.
She stomped on it as she walked out.
It bled all over the carpet
and never looked like stopping..
------------------------------------------------------­----------
That was then.
I’ve a new set of drawers now,
beautifully laid out and boy has
she’s got killer green eyes, and the
kind of love that put me back together.

Smokey nights behind fly screen filters
Torn in one corner, what the use?
It creaks every time you enter,
clangs shut when you leave.
The time will come
when I’ll get a new one.
One that won’t creak or clang -
who’ll, fix that ******* door.
Someone who’ll never leave,
and write me
poetry.

I glided through
the diaphanous breeze
with a desolate hope
that I would find my
way through the haze.

I stopped to rest,
finding solace  
in the pounding
syllables of the sea
where I could see your
glimmer in every wave.

Things fell away like
leaves from a tree.
Long nights, elusive dawns.  
Then out of nowhere,
you appeared.
The world wasn’t
caving in after all.
Just a clearing of space
for something new to emerge.

& the sky never knows what the Sun will do
in the breath of a new day,
how it will be clothed.
You too are like the sky, vast
and beautiful, full of wonder.  
There are times you may not
see the colour of the sky in you.
You may not, but everybody else can.

How could I ever have known when we first met it would end up like this.

I remember pulling up at the lights next to car with a guy and girl in it just like us. Except they weren’t talking or laughing at all. They both sat there staring into space, each with a distant look on their face.

“I hope we don’t end up like them,” I said.
“Like what,” you asked.
“Like their love has run out of things to say.”  
“Maybe they’re just waiting for the lights to turn green.”
“Maybe. I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

A young man was walking along when he came across monk who was sitting on the side of the path meditating.

The young man, curiously stopped. “You are not from here? For I know everyone in this kingdom, and everyone know who I am. My name is Narcissus, son of Cephissus, and I am King of this land. Where do you come from, and what are you doing in my kingdom?

The Buddhist monk sat silently, and continued to meditate. His eyes were closed and at his side was a banana and a pale of water.

“Did you hear me? I am Narcissus and I am King of this land. If you know me like my people do, you would know that; I am honest, I am kind, and I am loving and full of compassion. I am fair and just. I am an advocate of peace, I judge no-one, and my subjects love me. And you sir, what are you?”

The monk opened his eyes, took the banana and peeled it. He halved it and offered Narcissus the King the other half, then continued meditating without saying a word.

Narcissus ate his banana, musing at the monk who didn’t speak. Why do you not speak?” asked Narcissus. I am the King and I demand to be answered when I ask a question.”

It was deathly hot, so the monk offered Narcissus a drink from his pale of water.

“I am thirsty. I will accept your offer,” said Narcissus. He drank all that was in the ladle and helped himself to another. He stood and waited for the water in the pale to become still again. Then he pitched over and looked into it, admiring his reflection, and smiled. I am still beautiful he thought. Again he addressed the monk, asking him who he was.

The monk leant over and kissed Narcissus on the feet, and bowed to him without saying a word.

Narcissus peered down at monk, smiled, and said to himself, “strange man,” and moved on.

The monk resumed his position, smiled, and whispered to himself,
“I am nothing.”

The pessimist says, “What a crap day, we can’t do anything in this rain.”
The optimist says, “Look, there’s blue sky over there.”
The realist puts on their dancing shoes.

She rifled through me like a set of old drawers,
clothes strewn all over the bed and floor.
My eyes there
My ears there
My skin there
My lungs there
My mind there
My head there
But my heart over there
Away from the rest of me
She stomped on it as she walked out
It bled all over the carpet
And hasn’t stopped since.

I will wait for you
under the stars,
in the rain,
on dry desert plains…

I will wait watching the haze
of a date palm mirage,
where promise lies,
taunting.

I’ll wait for you,
no matter what,
no matter how long.

Question is:
Will you wait for me or
will you simply move on?

We try to live out of constant flux.
A flat-lined life where every moment
of every day is good... and that's good.

Yesterday the wind blew,
in fury of nothing.
It just blew, and
things fell down.

Yesterday it rained,
in torment of nothing.
It just rained, and
things got wet.

But today what yesterday was,
is but a gentle breeze on cloudless day.
Mother Nature too has her moments,
and things are still again.
Really still.

I saw the Universe—
     flowers opened before the morning Sun.
     The Moon smiled rolling aimlessly
     through the night sky, and the
     Sun cast its own shadow at your feet.

Rivers ran uphill to meet the rain
     while oceans stayed high for longer.
     Trees swayed to windless days.
     Night became day, day became night.

And the clouds, they swirled
     against blue hues that ran forever.
     And I— I stood in awe of
     what I saw when I looked
     in to your eyes.