Oh, to be a poet
one must be so emotional.
Well, no. Not necessarily.
We're only really capable
of understanding feeling,
investigating our emotions.
It doesn't mean we cry all day,
or pass nights in dark rooms moping.

We have lives; come home from work
or get in on a night bus back;
it's from all this experience
that we can draw out fact.
From mundane to extraordinary
we will become inspired.
Our strength is versatility
and life ignights our fires.

So, we do not all have to be
constricted to intensity
-to ponder oh-so seriously
on what it simply means 'to be'.
We can be strong, flirty, or mean
or to the brim with confidence.
For, what does 'to be a poet' mean,
if you cannot explore yourself?

let's travel
visit little french cafes
find old bookshops
wander through countryside
explore beautiful towns
you and me

Open  the  door,
Kiss  the  sadness  goodbye,
Find  a  new  window,
Let  your  soul  fly.

Get  out  of  your  box,
Fun’s  never  been  fame,
Stretch  out  to  the  world,
Create  your  own  name.

Opportunities  out  there,
So  let  yourself  soar,
There’s  a  whole  world  just  out  there,
Exit now, and  explore.

Come with me to the boardwalk and wander down to the turbulent blue sea.
Come with me to the fire and let the shadows of the flames dance across your face.

Take me back to the sandy white shore with the cool waves lapping at my feet.
Take me back to the yellow sun high in the sky, warming my face.

Follow me down the rough path and feel the cool stones on your feet.
Follow me up the steep hill and stare at the moon’s inviting face.

Get in the car and leave the lonely world in the rear view mirror.
Get to the top of the mountain and watch your fear hide its face.

Bring your best and your worst and we will explore it all together.
Bring me to the first place you felt truly alive and we will basque in its face.

Let us get lost in the inky night sky, and never find home.
Let us get lost in the abyss of each others eyes, forever staying face to face.

I left my heart back in Kiev,
found my soul in South Korea.
I dreamed of the northern lights,
and saw a shooting star in Paris.

I lost my virginity in Ibiza,
drank too much up in Dublin.
I ran in the streets of Ljubljana,
and drove with windows down in Sydney.

if i don’t think about it,
did it happen?
if i don’t mention it,
is it real?
if i shut it out,
does it still live?

We can not go,
This, I have said this to myself millions of times.

But, that day my heart took the driver’s seat.
My mind stopped working like a well-oiled machine.

I was in the middle of the urban jungle, the concrete city of cars, traffic, and cookie-cutter homes...
The land of squared, sanitized spaces, and constant noises from technology, automobiles, and the noise in our heads to keep up with the rat race.

I closed my eyes

Then, I opened them again.

A different reality!
A dream, of course!

I found myself in a jungle of green, moist, humid sweat.
This was the land of  kaleidoscopic dreams;
The monkey’s howls pierce the air -
birds symphonically, swimming together in the air-
Life in every single layer of nature

I felt myself
Losing myself in the greenery
The lushness
The awe

I had time to contemplate
In my contemplation, I decided, the only thing in life is real is the story I create in life

And as I go through the forest
My thoughts become more developed and articulated

I slash at everything that does not make sense
I slash at every idea
Every preconceived notion
Of
Who I thought
I am

I cut like a savage warrior
On a mission
Branches, dangling distractions
Temptations of fruits and branches that grab at my waist,
And more branches, like physical arms tieing me down like chains

I slash the blade
I cut with no intention of where I want to go

Exhausted, I rest my head

In the darkness in the middle of the amazon

A jaguar comes to me
With their yellow eyes waiting in the corner - It observes me in the bushes
I sit still
Is this a message for me?

Wanting to hear what I have to say
I wait and wait
I stay up all night.

As I wait for prophecies
The jaguar eventually leaves me alone in the darkness

Dissapointment rages inside me
I am left in more uncertainity

But, my heart spoke really loud today
Something took a hold of me
I was not rationale.
I was not cautious..

I opened my backpack and dumped everything off a cliff
I ran and jumped in the blue ocean

Finally
I listened to my heart
Finally...

You are not meant to live in stillness collecting dust
you are a concotion of wild adventures and day dreams

Explore foreign lands of make beliefe
travel through space and time to other demensions

Talk in languagues centuries old
make friends with the poeple who love with broken hearts

Create your own realm of magic and beauty
flight the darkness live to love another day
find what makes your soul burn with a passion  

Live.

how far must she travel
to rediscover
her purpose
her purpose
what a preposterous concept

neither rest nor return
are purpose

neither love nor hate
are purpose

neither this nor that
so then what
what is it
what is the answer
to this unquantifiable question

perhaps it rests
in the caverns of her dreams
in the caverns of her subconscious
synesthetic
mind
seeing colors for numbers
and mango puddles in the rain

it was always her imaginative spirit
that activated her forehead
which wrinkled with the tides of
hurt pain sadness glory god

and she was told
to soften that sternness
soften it until she was nonexistent

but instead she asked
what are these things
what are their purpose
besides drinking foreheads and wringing potential
and piping out excuses for this and for that
for crimson activities and
claret affairs

g a l a x y
her lips are a galaxy
i was not ready to explore
yet tasted with glee
and she, herself, is a galaxy
forget the milky way
for she is my galaxy
her heavenly bodies never fail to astonish me