Can I not take

A compliment

Without questioning

Whether he means it

Look into the mirror

See what his eyes believe

Sees me as it is

Red lips he wants to kiss.

My orange dress
I wore it last
That night
My soul you undressed

I was in love
With all of you
You stripped it down
Claiming we
Belonged to you.

I am reclaiming
What is mine,
What has always been
Mine

I take a vow
I wear it now
This dress I love
My color of love

Dedicate it to
Ours to adore

The one
Given from above.

Excuse-me,
Was that offensive to you?
I was just pointing out
Something obvious.

Oh dear,
If it were clear
I am sorry to disappoint
It was so smart I missed your point.

Autumn is a sturdy man
Eager to take your clothes off
What a mess he will leave on the floor

Some dignity hanging on
For as long as possible
But he gets bolder by the day
Complacent to stay.


Autumn is a coy woman
Eager to wear the colors of desire
What a sight she leaves for the beholder

Some courage to resist
As you blow her a kiss
But before she succumbs
She is promised a firework.


Autumn is a seductive game
Here to devour her right away
While withholding for her is foreplay

His approach is raw
She delays her fall
She wanted it to last
But he came too fast.

The dark hours
Provide
My light
The best of me
Pops up
At night
A disco nap
Before I go out
Elated
Once the bass
Doles out
Energetic
'Til after dawn
I will continue
As long as
The music is on
And once I
Flit home
My morning song:
Streets in silence
Still playing techno.

It is all I ever wanted
With you
To sit and wait
In this crowded space
Waving in vain
To the waiter in distress
And I crack up
To calm you down
No need to fret
His smile tender
Once we place our order.

Between bites
And overhearing
The couple beside
I bask
In delight
Eating
My obsession
While you carry on
With the conversation.

I pass by
Quickly catching this sight
I stand outside
At at loss it is not I
Savoring sushi at your side.

I walk past all I ever wanted
With you
You sit inside
Reveling in my sushi
With another one than me.

I find myself
Visualizing your glasses
When he removes his.

I imagine his crooked tooth
When I see yours
Impeccably aligned.

I learned a new word today,
Cafuné,
Translates
To the act of tenderly running one's finger through someone's hair.

I grew fond of the act
Long before
Getting hold of the word.

I know not whose I prefer
Now his I adore
But as much as I do yours.

This is a *******
Torn by emotions
We have history, we share chemistry
I love you
Though I love him too
Cannot think of him
Without thinking of you

This is a *******
I have come to loathe
But the truth is
I belong to both.

I love nothing more than a good conversation
Whether we laugh or have a serious discussion
Quality moments sitting around a table
Words flow as we're trapped in our own little capsule

Promptly, we are transported to a different world
See all these places and get cultured through mere words
Without even leaving this spot for a second
Our shared stories spur on the imagination

I am here enjoying my beer or my coffee
It is a pleasure to be in great company
One can learn so much through the eyes of another
To some questions, one can firmly get an answer

It doesn't matter if we are, or not, alike
A smart and challenging person will always strike
Ultimately, one might get more than what he thought
One discovers things about himself just with talk

I love nothing more than a good conversation
Whether we laugh or have a serious discussion
Sit around a nice little table for a while
What's greater in life than connecting through a smile?

They keep asking me
Did I do anything different
Not one bit
At last he appreciates me.

I will not show it
Just yet
It is not ready
To be framed
Just yet
A work in progress
It is still a mess
She is fast
She peeks at it
Beams
And holds it
It is perfect as it is
Unnecessary to polish it
Because
It is already
Beautifully completed
Right now,

Unfinished.

The past has a way of catching up with you
Like a crash that beats the hell out of you
And what you thought were memories
Only fragments and forgiven stories
Are moments that you relive again
How could it, once more, happen
All the smallest details resurface
Of that day, and of that place
Unglued, on this pavement
Fray seems not transient
Past is still a question
Present in equation.

But all of a sudden
You notice this man
One stroking your hand
Reassuring you can stand
You smile because it is true
Got the tools to get you through
History has a way of repeating itself
But time lets you take care of yourself
Though you might experience a similarity
You know each day is new and has its own story
And when you forget, those are angels that God sends
Telling you time travel will never feel like a burden again.

We meet for afternoon coffee
For this I reckon
I would fancy a waffle with it.

How are you?,
The first sentence of the last conversation about me and you.

While dipping a piece of my waffle
In the whipped cream
I did not order,
I have a thought.

We have never been
More than a side dish;
Like a waffle I would
Every so often ask for.

To sweeten this life
I require more.

I still prefer to take
My coffee black, as plain as my heart.

I let him in
Through the back door

He alone
Holds the password.

Seldom knocks
But often enough;

Through the tiny peephole
Of the unresolved,

I take the chain
Off the door.

I keep my skirt
While he unbuttons my heart

That door policy is rough
But he earns my trust;

That love hurts
'Til a gentle push.

Unlock
The secrets to my core;

The fissure
Of pleasure

For a full-frontal
Of my soul.

He sneaks
In the back door

Only he knows
The password;

No one is welcome
But one.

They say it's not safe to walk around here
You'll see women standing on street corners
Few drunk mortals and usual dealers
Still, it has a unique flair that's sincere.

Interesting folks spotted at cafes
Nights and on weekends, the scene is alive
Best galleries in town, boutiques survive
A form of art, nothing close to cliches.

The kind of place that gives someone a fright
A misconception for some who can't stand
The riveting darker side of their mind;
It's here geniuses like Baudelaire saw light.  

There is something alluring about them
Those society scorn, the marginalized.
Judgmental souls persist; not so surprised
When below the surface waits a poem.

The people here have no care in the world.
Whether it's where they work or their hangout
Here, free spirits do not need to stand out
They think lightly and none shall be bothered.

They say it's not safe to walk around here
It's the truth, one must be a bit careful
But this area, genuinely soulful;
Rather here, red light district I revere.

I take your mind to bed
Any opinion
You ever had,
Stark naked.

I start fondling
Your musings;
I envision
Your thoughts on my skin.

Your ideas enter me;
I feel myself
Tingling
From all the talking.

All my dreams flow
You, too, are close --
Baby, let me swallow
Any last word.

Part I

No words need be spoken
Inhaling loudly,
She is mindful and content.
The only artifice here
A camera in her gear;
This instant in a frame
As wonders engulf her,
She claims.

I stand at the centre,
Swamped by
The tick of high heels and chatter.
Mindful and composed,
Left aghast
By the mass who walk past.
The right words come up
Binding my feelings to my art.

Part II**

Smell the air
Both dig inspiration
Elsewhere;

Differences
Of worldly proportions
Our nature
Do not fit by definition.

Entering each other's realm,
We love to understand.

May this gap
Be bridged with time
For I am afraid

We do not rhyme.

I am the friend in between
Who will be summoned to take a side
When one will be less than keen
And save the other from a landslide.

It will be unconceivable
For me to give unbiased answers
If one were to ask for advice and counsel
Presuming that I can pick a winner.

Though reluctant to take a step back
There is a reason why I am against
My judgement will never be on track
By getting involved in this case.

I am implicated in some way
Even if it is not my story to tell
With luck, it was Cupid I had to play
Because being a referee will not end well.

A nomad's home is the road
His favorite spot, the window.
The eyes wander constantly
Heightened by their vicinity.

A nomad adores people
To his travels, they're fuel.
Differences is what he seeks
A common ground is what they'll reach.

It's a nomad's addiction
Have this world leave an impression.
He'll get smitten with a place
Set off, but not without a trace.

It's a nomad's prerogative
To venture, for him, is to live.
Memories in his suitcase
New experience, he'll embrace.

     For a nomad, it never stops
     There's no such thing as enough.
     Globe-trotting is a purpose
     This nomadic life he chose.

I will order
Those extra fries
Like the best things
In life

One is never enough.

If everything
We have been through
Did not put a halt —
A story
We keep coming back to

Are we moving forward
Or am I in love
With a bookmark?

Lands and beliefs separate
But I know
We are watching the same sunset.
I catch the beginning
Colors waltzing
As the sun brushes against
The mountains;
Battling whether or not
I should send you
A message.

Yours is about to disappear
There is an order
In this mess of colors
Clashing into each other;
Dissipating fast
Behind the curtains of the sea
As far as the eyes can see;
Wondering if you will get
A message
From me.

We are thinking
The same thing
Guaranteed our longing will ****
The merit of this moment
When in fact, we alone
Want it tragic.
Hearts aligned
Into the darkness;
Such fools in the process
To believe you and I are that different.

I got drunk on life
This time, like every time
The old trick works on me
I am just happy enough
Until I have had one too many

Then everything is buzzing
Fuzzy thoughts and accurate feelings

I carry on
As if my gut still permits it
Before promising, I learned my lesson
From overindulging.

This time, I will be more vigilant
Life tastes delicious;
But I should sip gently
Unless it is yet another hungover
From decisions I could regret long after

Then everything is buzzing
Accurate thoughts and fuzzy feelings

Drink moderately, or else I will be
Easily intoxicated
On this plethora of life experience
This time, I shall only get a little tipsy.

Now she speaks,
My cold hands
Feel
The warmth
Of his kick
Saying hello
For the first time
I am euphoric
For this nephew of
Mine
And already
I know
Since that first day
I prayed for you, I saw
Though we have not
Met yet
We are already
Connected
And always
I will come through
Across this wall
Of I love you.

Half a life
Half a love
Undivided submission;

Half-hearted
I am utterly devoted
To lesser moments.

Between the sheets
The mind drifts
In search of atonement;

Part-time wrong
Entirely yours
An inevitable outcome.

It is living half a life
Accepting half love
Full-time;

My light,
Take me out of the dark

The courage within to say goodbye.

That is what poets do

They romanticize pain
They idealize the torment

There is solace in darkness
Which they craft to enlighten;

Lure with words
The forlorn is adorned
Guilt is charming
Mistakes rewarding

That part that is revolting
The best line in their poems.

That is what poets do

They embellish heartbreak
To cement the heartache

But as soon as they leave their paper
and beautiful words captivated readers

Life can no longer render
The adequate metaphor
Agony is agony;

There is no substitute for it.

Do not take it too seriously,
Following a recipe to a tee

Unless you are making
Cupcakes,
No need to fake it
‘Til you make it,
It is a sweet life
You are baking.

A creature of the moment
A pinch of salt
Is the secret

Your concoction
Puffs up in the oven —

The frosting,

Make it
‘Til you become it.

She lives the poetry she cannot write
Not her words,
A life that became hers.
She has written fiction,
Dreams and speculations;
Until all turned into a tale
She did not long to put on paper.

She writes the poetry she cannot live
Her words,
Gives life when it is not hers.
She has had desires,
Loss and tantrums;
Turned nightmares into tales
On any piece of paper.

She lives the poetry she cannot write
Not her words,
A love that finally became hers.
She has written fiction,
Heartache and expectations;
That embrace in her coffee place
He took away her pen.

On the other side
The truth lies
On the other side
Truth
Lives in plain sight.

Blinded by the sun
My five Euro shades
Unveil what I shun
I am paying
A king's ransom.

'Til worlds collide
'Til I crossed to the other side
He never lied,
Lived another truth
By my side.

Berlin, Berlin, it was love at first sight
All senses synchronized, bass to the heart.
People of all walks of life danced to the beat,
Tresor was on fire, I can still feel the heat.

Since then, it is electronic music
That fuels me; provides the everyday kick.
Hours of tech house, minimal and techno --
Never a day without, I'm always in awe.

I need Ibiza every summer,
Cocoon each time; Hive, never a ******.
Richie forever! The great Papa Sven!
It is falling in love, again and again.

So electronic music doesn't care much
About image or status; petty things as such
You have to lose yourself in the music
That's all that matters, soul and rhythm that click.

The ones who really know, they understand
How I feel is unique: my horizons expand.
It's crazy how it has shaped my being,
I'm thankful for it, you're my everything.

I like things
That do not belong
Mislaid, lost
Dropped, thrown
How do they end up in my frame
How come I keep on noticing.

I am attracted to things
That do not quite seem to fit
Subtly ruining it;
A smudge, a note
A love
Unwritten in the stars.

A weakness
For displaced happiness
Somewhere I never intended;
Maybe,
My love,
I misplace my heart in the right spot.

How long is now
This moment
Will last a lifetime

How long is now
My body endures the hours

But my mind took a halt

As soon as I entered the hall
I stopped minding the clock.

I shut my eyes
The goosebumps never lie

I awake in paradise
The soul dancing to the bass.

I lose myself
As much as find



Exactly who I am.

The music becomes
My second skin
I look around and
You too, have the same discipline

How long is now

We are infinite in this crowd

Then, I will remember your smile
Your heart sounds just like mine in Berghain.

It is not Herculean to disappear,
Repel all the strong feelings that appear.
You're at the summit or in the gutter,
None of that sticks, you're numb whatsoever:
Entirely immune to bitterness;
New journey trying out being fearless.

Cured injuries that left hideous scars,
Love-hate relationship in your memoirs:
Don't want to go on living without them,
And yet you cannot stand the sight of them.
Solace in the fact that it pains no more,
Vexed because balance was never restored.

You deal with a constant oxymoron;
You alone create this little *****.
At length, cannot get out of your own way,
Exhausting having your thoughts on replay.
Done with being neurotic; done grumbling;
Sky high, downfall, indifferent's becoming.

I want to write again
I want to feel
Like I did back then
When my day depended
On the words I had chosen
-- The life I put
In my poems

I want to write again
I want to feel
The thrill of the pen
The delight that rushes through my veins
When the right words blend
The pain I endure
Once my thoughts
No longer make sense

I am exhilarated
When I start
Scribbling on paper
My heart at peace
As soon as I polish it
On my typewriter

I write again
I write
Like nothing ever happened
Like not a thing prevented me
Months at an end

I write again

I write
Because it is who I am
Because in time,
I always return
To my essence
-- That in the end,
Nothing feels quite right
Unless I am writing.

My niece

Hugging me tighter

Than usual;



Words spill

On my heart

Making a mess

My mind

Will not erase;



Kissing me sweet

Clenching my fists;



The big things

Rest on that microscopic grin

On the right corner

Of my lips --



That is where you lie,

In the space between

My lines.

Nothing but the sound of the waves
Feeling the warm wind on my face
Close my eyes just before I dive
I have never felt more alive

Millions have walked here before me
Still, this moment belongs to me
When my footprints will wash away
In my heart you are here to stay

The island's whispering to me
Overwhelmed by your energy
Everything in sudden osmosis
A harmony I'll surely miss

I will **** you with a metaphor
My feelings censored
Behind beautiful words.

I dare not say it to your face
The euphemism
When I am burning with anger.

Toying with the void
Here I concoct
The right expression;

My sweet weapon
Retort with an oxymoron.

Then nothing; no paradox or pun
I am even at a loss for a rhyme.

For when our eyes meet
It is poetry I read,
Without a word
We say it all.

Love stories do not start the same
Yet they all end the classic way
Odd first encounter, then obstacles
Come credits, movie fades with wonder.

Sugar-coated films are to blame
Viewers listen to what they say
That love is worth a million battles
In the end, you'll find the right partner.

Romantics yearn for the Grand Finale
Optimists believe in Meant To Be's
Broken hearts curse the hurtful truth
And films try do define the rule.

Love the drama and the silly
Sick of the cheesy and the tease
Either way, like having a sweet tooth,
Their imagination becomes your tool.

Still, I have another idea
Of how it should be, how it feels.
Then again, I got no clue at all
But I'm certain it's not like the films.

Nothing real can come of thee,
Only partials and it kills
The erratic beauty of it all,
Love must be more than what they scheme.

  So I know it's not like fiction
  Pain lasts and it never ends well;
  So I want better than fiction
  Perhaps one day, I'll be able to tell.

No one writes letters anymore
We live in a world that needs more
Than fast messages with emoticons;
We speak our mind through funny fonts.

Tell me you could visualize
A tortured heart that slowly dies;
I truly wish you read the signs
Tears I poured while writing those lines.

In my handwriting, I revealed
In my letter, my heart I sealed
I made mistakes I can't erase
I am so sorry, I lose face.

You won't forgive me easily
Don't expect an answer swiftly;
My words came from deep down inside
One day, perhaps, you'll let it slide.

No one writes letters anymore
But I am the kind that is for
Face-to-face communication
From afar, words must move mountains.

In my handwriting, I unveiled
In my letter, my heart is sealed
I'll say sorry until you care
Was a letter enough to repair?

The city talks to me
Leaves me messages
I am here to revel in
Certain tags on a wall
A quote on the lamppost
Someone said it before
So I will not miss anything at all.

I keep my eyes wide open
Skimming in every direction
Daily surmise is that this art
Sent to me from there above.

The street is the canvas
Human behavior, the brush
And only the very few
Are smart enough to be imbued.

My city is adorned
Embraces me on wintry days
And enlightens
When it is only shadows that strays
Artists keep pointing out to me
It is because of what is left behind
That wonderful Zürich still bewilders me.

I use a pencil when I write down my dreams
Some have been the same all these years
Some came into being in the course of one night.

I use a pencil when I write down my dreams
Some on paper, locked in my heart
Some I erased, redrafted with tears.

I use a pencil when I write down my dreams
Some I turned into my whimsical reality
Some I had to edit because I'm realistic.

I use a pencil when I write down my dreams
Some make me quit because I'm pessimistic.
Some make me see beyond the difficulty.

I use a pencil when I write down my dreams
Cannot draw the future, but I can sharpen it
Can only scribble until dreams become clear.

I use a pencil when I write down my dreams
Will protect them from rain so they won't smear
Will not stop until I find the shoe that fits.