The lady in red shoes
She has no absolute clues
On Monday morning blues
She Whistles the song "FOOTLOOSE"

It isn't about the shoes
The red pair she choose
Strangely, someone called Bruce
Offered her apple juice

It isn't about the shoes
but the color that she choose
Oh... she should never loose
Her pair of red colored shoes.......

I got the lock
You gave me key
Look at us now
Just
You
And
Me..

Can a zero be a hero?
Yes,
Only with strong will and determination
No,
with sheer laziness and much
negativity...
Can a hero be a zero?
Yes,
Only with ego and ruthlessness
No,
with dignity and being down to earth...
To be a hero or a zero...
Only you decide...

An antidote to stress
Is unconditional love
From a lover to another
From a mother to her daughter
Kind and tender love...
Sweet and everlasting..

I said good bye
to all the memories
bitter and sweet
past is buried.

I march forward
future awaits
the new year
the new me
write  a new chapter
on a clean fresh paper.

And when he does not love me anymore,
I will build him
one last altar,
and decide to burn it to the ground.

But will only get as far
as lighting the match.

Thinking about how he used matches
for something.
Sometime.
Probably.

I'll brush my teeth,
thinking of the gaps between his.
How really,
it's a great metaphor for the distance between out hearts
or something stupid like that.

But in the end,
it's not a metaphor,
or an analogy.
They're just teeth.
(That could never quite come together
kind of like us)

I will crawl into bed
imagining an alternate universe
in which we have started a life together.
One where I wake up and reach across the bed for him.
Get the kids ready for school,
which is funny
because in this universe I never wanted children,
but in that universe,
we created something out of nothing.
Something with his eyes,
and my nose.
A manifestation of the love between two people.
Proof that it happened.
That is was real.
And it was resilient enough to breathe life into a world
that only offered it death.

In that universe,
our hair turns as silver
as our wedding rings.
And each wrinkle,
is a space where our skin just wanted
to hold the other person even closer.


But here
in this harsh reality,
time only pulls us apart.
And we will likely grow gray
with other people now.

In this universe,
I learn to say goodbye
to him.


I will build him
a library of poems.

And decide to burn it to the ground.

Once I met a kind,
and friendly old man
He'd become a good friend of mine
We talked about life and his future plans
He is too in love
with the beautiful nature
of his proud land.

Joe lives in a fantasy land
dreams of childhood days
Walks down the memory lane

He planted daisies
and plucked wild berries
the birds singing
the bees buzzing
the rhythm of nature
he loves to cherish...

What a magnificent hometown
he proudly  described.
As he sits in his little fairyland
Where he dreams and writes.

He said I was his mentor
He learned to write from a tutor
He didn't  notice how diligent he was as my teacher
When he praised my writes he gave me flower.

Today... Joe is older
But he'd never grown weaker
Once he marched in several wars
Made England proud of its brave soldier.

life goes on
and he moves on
enjoying the wilderness
on his own..
Dear Joe Cole
You'd never be alone
my words and yours in all good poems........