Like ribbons of smoke dancing in the air
You were beautiful
You were the Northern lights
Important enough to be watched in the freezing cold
You were fleeting and sweet
Cream swirling in coffee
Ripples in a pond
I loved you
But like all ephemeral things
Eventually you left too.

I've lost my words the moment you turned your back on me
and I can't replay to people's questions
other way than using signs.

I've lost my hearing at your first scream
using disappointed words like...
well, those I can not write.

I saw the sunset every morning since then
and I've tried to speak small words like:
beautiful and caring and I.

I saw a man today who touched my hands
and the intensity of one moment
made me wish I could see in his heart,
and also in his head.

I've heard a simple question coming from him
and I quickly answer it without thinking,
my voice was strong but still ****
and I've remember that that was the first time since
well,
I've remember to use words with voice
and I'll not be afraid to make myself notice anymore,
because like you
I can move on.

Whenever, February comes around
and if I am still here breathing ,
I must shed a tear
Whenever the coldest month
of the year gets to me
I flashback to 1959 and
the bullock’s heart tree:

My vivid memories might seem a bit strange,
But according to sources, it’s where my Nana
buried my navel string: under the old bullock’s heart tree

The bullock’s heart trees shall forever lived on
So are my memories of that secret place
the sparrows and the blackbirds shall
  forever feast upon the ripened fruits it produces

The broad leaves shall shelter the wild doves,
from the tropical sun and rain,
However, how strange my memories might seems
whenever, February arrives and I am still
breathing, I must shed a tear.
because, I am forever blessed ..Happy birthday to me.

A Stranger amongst strangers
when the poet is a stranger
he become a danger to the future
You were here; I was there

Healing the world with prayers and lyrics
Just another nightmare
As the world shun another poet
The poets disappear another forgotten poem

Within each new poet there is a new idea
the poesy, the artistry, blend within hidden words
Fade poems curl like a half moon.
Fading, fading, gone too soon

I glanced around and watch the faces
Of the tired old souls lining the corridors
from sun up to sundown:

I adhere to the flashing lights,
their abusive behavior: triggered by a crave
a waiting room filled with junkies

Then my thought turned to Salvador Dali
with pondering thoughts
how would he paint such emotions
" Moments of madness"

when my life seem so empty”
and there’s no place to go
I knock on the rooms and curative their pain
Just to hear them say
“Thank you Nurse L.

As you never bothered to return my Calls
  I shall wait outside your door and watch
as you build the gates of wrath higher and higher,

The taller your fences, the longer your lines posts should be
The sea refuses no river;
whereas most men and women turned on each other
your actions, their words, their inner thoughts
Cyberspace is now a battle space

Keep passwords secret and strong my friends
The famous Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote
The poet also resigns himself to his moods
I shall wait outside your door and watch: