there's one date I don't freaking celebrate
and even sort of hate
to perceive a certain day of a certain month
every year as a birthday?
frig it, no **** way; there is only one
such day, & mine is a lot behind
that date is just a bitter reminder, do not be blind
with every next year after an actual birthday
it's more & more just a "becoming old" day
that's to keep in mind
you, of course, are free to treat these lines
as some pessimistic whine
but don't think that thinking the way I do isn't right
as it isn't about "right/not right"
it's about point of view
after all, you have your own, don't you?

A day you look back
to see how much you’ve grown and bloomed.

A day you reminisce all the lovely
and memorable memories made over the year.

A day you are thankful for all
your blissful ups that integrated themselves
as memories in your mind.

A day you're thankful to the people
you have met over the year that made
an impact for the better.

A day you're thankful for the life lessons
learnt that made your become a better,
wiser, stronger or simply given you a an
edge that you never had before.

The day when you let your ego
be glorified by the wishes and compliments.

The day you feel extra dose of love
and attention from the people around you.

The day you are grateful for the life you have
and look forward to growing, progressing,
creating more memories.

Because birthday to me is all that
and spending the day with gratitude for
your existence and being around the people
who make you feel like your existence is meaningful
and you are beautiful.

It's 2:30 A.M.
And my coming of "age" memories begin to
Float within oblivion.
Although I'm sure there's light somewhere...
one. like everyone else, i'm warmly welcomed, i think?
two. being ill didn't stop me from gaining enjoyment,
but i surely can't remember.
three. blank.
four. blank.
five. blank.
six. pinning the tail was worth the laugh.
seven. blank.
eight. blank.
nine. blank.
ten. blank.
eleven. blank but i'm sure that i was happy to leave the zeros on the scale.
twelve. blank.
thirteen. blank.
fourteen. exactly what a celebration for growth should feel like.
fifteen. seasick and unamused.
sixteen. blank.
seventeen. blank. maybe i ate or something.
eighteen. an unforgettable adventure.
nineteen. absolutely nothing.
twenty. hopped late onto a magical train.
thank you, my friend.
twenty-one. i wish it never happened
And it hasn't been long since then.

you said that aging is collecting ghosts
of everyone who enters your life and leaves
my collection, ambitious, I think of them daily
haunted by those I've loved and lost

The striped
Coloured planet
With that crazy red dot
So round
So perfect
That one is called Jupiter
My pearl.  
Happy birthday.

Tinkling rhythms engulfed us
As we sat in a cuban bistro,
Surrounded by the populace
And having nary a place to go.

We spoke of many things
That curried the other's favor,
Then I noticed her silver rings
And decided I'd wait no later.

This stranger that sat before me,
Blue curls atop her pretty head,
Observed my hand steadily
As it dropped off the table's end.

I reached into my bag and withdrew a rock,
It's complexion of gold and plaque shining silver.
Her reaction was that of pleasant shock
As I wished her congrats on turning a year older.

Now, a year and some days later,
We've both reached a special place.
Day to day I get to face her
And feel my lover's warm embrace.

I remember 35
Like it was 25 years ago.

I had hair then.
Was in my eighth year of teaching.
Had four children at home,
A dog.
A cat.

Unbounded energy,
Exuberance,
Passion,
Conviction

Stress fed my bones,
Canceled my fears,
"Work harder
Before the night falls!"

Night is falling.
Sixty is nearly here.
I am nearly gone,
And yet you linger,
A soul standing in periphery.

35.
What is the point of living
If the past cannot be left,
And the present stand still
To let us dress each other's wounds,
Forgive our others' sins,
Let us, limping as we are,
Move toward the center,
Again to begin?

seventy candles flicker in a room full

the sweet union of voices

sixty-nine times before that day

the man walked the moon when I was ten

I had heard stories and so I dropped

the mentos

as my son speared it into the sky

giggles erupted and hearts soared

As our chins tilted toward the sun