I’m awake,
Once again,
By the touch,
Of the wind in my skin
In this new month of April

The flowers blossom,
Their colors mesmerize me,
Every tone,
Every shade,
They captivate me.

I contemplate the plants, with a scent of bitter-sweetness,
While some bloom,
And others wither,
In an endless cycle.

The fauna and flora,
Announce once again,
With their songs, dances and colors,
The sunrise of spring,
In this new month of April.

After the dreadful silence of winter,
I can hear the sweet singing of the birds
And the sound,
Of the wind dancing with the leaves:
A spring melody...

I observe these creatures,
So graceful, yet so fragile.
They swing through the sky,
Synchronizing their movements with the wind,
As if they were ballerinas.

At the end of this month of April,
I fall asleep,
Once again,
While these tiny singers,
Recite their lullaby.

Picking, lacy clouds from April skies
to make a bouquet of wildflowers,
I get tired of leaning and think of was

Disappointed,
since when did I decide to
hide myself behind insincerity?  

Made, my wish come true
by writing one more poem on
dull riots of burning willows

Distraught,
twice-born within
seven days of this in a hotel
of days like a passing shadow

Pitied, myself for being so
for having such a weak
and childish heart  

Humm, in the marketplace  
I patiently pick out the perfect
moments from a basket of kiwis

Surprised, by ten years roamed
of letting days go idly by
while I stay perfectly still

Faithless,  
compiling my work
of brushing grass and prose,
not caring anymore about fame

Mindless, my shutter snaps
another beautiful day that’s mine
and I quickly pin it on my wall

Wending,
without a word,
I fall from April skies

The moon gazes
through April’s silver maple.

To work, to drive,
to drive to work.

Earth's half-in, half-out
of the sun’s habitable zone.

The rushing stream topples old trees;
the peaceful father, mother.

Powerful with eternity,
blinding with intensity.

Zazen position,
necking in the front seat.

Lazy, happy,
mirror, desert.

Moderation, persuasion, elections.
Way stations, stopgaps, safe havens.

Cheap jewelry can be ****;
stop fixing things with duct tape!

Humor is the only remedy
not to hate those in authority.

And ritual is remedy,
a death song.

Nothing but matter matters,
chipmunk, groundhog, skunk.

Do not provoke
an angry baboon.

Why care about the future,
the dead don’t live to see it.

I’ve come to see
if this is true.

Let yourself go
with all the doubts and losing battles
there is no way we can win them all

the cost of learning
we will learn to fly again
when we fall.

we also cannot lift bodies that
do not want to be rescued;
never settle for less when you can settle for more.

take it slow with process
and process will come to you,
maybe even greater

Even though you are dead to me
Still, you are the last face I wanna see
Pushing on the death pedal, riding to hell
In the hope of meeting there, when you sleep
Because hell is where you deserve to be
I was no good and you are no better
Hell or heaven, does it even matter?
All I want is to be together
Even if I have to suffer