Sometimes I wonder,
Sometimes I ponder,
Why do I love her.

At one look she's valentine,
and the next... she's somebody else

But like a spectre on Holloween's day,
its all but a mask.
A mask that someone else used to wear.
A mask filled with fear, grief and pain.
Masks that fills up the small dents in her heart.

I ran, she glimpsed, I reached, she smiled.
A great story it is. Yet another,
I ran, I reached, an empty look from her face.
A story that makes me cry and kneel to the Lord.

It's a difficult love indeed and temptations are real and big.
Yet, I could not find a reason to steer and drive away.
And against all logic, Love compels me to stay.

The love that compelled my savior to be hanged on a tree.
A love that never gives up,
a love that is defined by no other word than love it self.
Is the love that keeps me going.

It is because of love, that I could not let go.
Because, my savior himself did not let go.
Even at times that I betray and spat him to his face
He did not let go. He held on, He struggled.
He pulled me, He embraced me.

My Rabbi once thought me,
that love is both sweet and deadly.
love in its ultimate form, will lead one person to die.

"Die to self" my Rabbi says.
Until when can I die to my self?

Scarry as it is, I am ready to die in the name of love,
Scarry as it is, I am ready  to die to show one person love,
To lit the light of hope in her, to light back faith in her heart.
As great purposes awaits her, to be a sign of hope is a great pleasure indeed.

So am I crazy enough to lose the world in the name of love?
Sadly, I'am still incapable of loving like my savior does.
For he is perfect and I.... am being perfected.

We are of no comparison,
He was innocent, yet I was guilty.
guilty as accused.
I am but a  mere speck of dust compared to His glory.

O how can I find love in the eyes of my valentine?
I cried out and He answered,
"You don't" He says,
For  love is not about you,
but it is about dying to your self

With this love that I recieved,
I am on my way.
Fighting fears, lies and struggles,
I am on my way.

As love compels me to be,
Therefore I concluded that
I.... must be..... Half-Crazy.

i gave my pound of shylock... see, objectivism would like me to be accurate claiming it was not a pound’s worth, exacted to the precise .1 gram of weight... but that just breeds confusion, and where’s the joy in that?*

you were already chosen as the vessel of apathy
and gauged out eyes,
heartless economics built around insects,
and there you were being told:
make not your vessel a poured in content of a *****
but a russian girl of worth,
because, let’s face it, these girls experience daily
abuse that cannot be given a historical relevance
for all of humanity... choose a ******* to enter the empty
vessel of your content worth from apathy
and you’ll have to allow a crucifix of you worth too -
choose a nobler kind of girl to give your missing beating ***** to,
so she might quench something apparent in you...
but then she does opposite and you’re left as the *****
with sweet mammon whispering into your ear
about all the glories of the staged life to receive
bounties of rubber, plastic and dust of the entertainer’s stage...
then imagine being psychoanalysed on every page turn
just so that someone can have a job without having met you...
all the local prostitutes decided to denote me as the devil...
i just started wearing sunglasses when looking out the window at night.

finally this moment is here, I've been watching
and waiting, I've been hearing it all along
in between your words, in the center of the stories
you tell so eloquently, so clever, so wise

there is light in your right eye, some shadow in your left eye
the evening light is sweetly illuminating the magnitude of loneliness
some feelings need at least two people in order to be bearable

you sat and listened you looked deeper into your body
language receded, obscured itself like the moon
sometimes there is no need for words
something more important needs to be created
in between bodies and minds,
the flow of connection, of true partnership

the waves started, the waters of loneliness surfacing
you cried your tears and I cried mine
as I listened to the silence of tears I understood: this was the moment for a few simple words: I see you, I am here
there is no falling deeper than this for now
truth, this scarry creature, was there in your flesh and in mine
your loneliness was like a sea without horizon but the shiver of depth  like a voice without screaming, a bird without flight

perhaps this tango with tears will fill your lungs with innocence
as you imagine a new horizon, a new architecture for happiness