Life holds you under water
Happiness is learning to enjoy
The brief moments of air
Before it you pulls you back under

I’m a merchant vagabond
Selling more of myself each day
To people who don’t respect me
For trying

Drape me in kerosene
Strike me to set a blaze
The sun began humiliated

Through thick and thin, we got through it
With every step, we found the strength within.
Through every laugh, and every smile
We found happiness, through every moment
We made the worth while.

I thank god for bringing me such joyful people in life
Through every storm, they've eased my strife
The sudden frown turns upside down,
When laughter echoes all around
I find myself in a room with my friends,
Where every moment of joy never ends.

So thank you for the gentle love you've given me
It's a gift that sets my heart free
I was lost in the darkness, till I found light
With you by my side, everything felt right.

She's not a poet
But I find something more than poetry in her lips
I found a poem full of bliss
That showered through her words
That I know I'm gonna miss
Words uttered through her mouth
Slayed my dizzy heart
Those words were the charm that made my heart warm.

As I navigate through life, I am increasingly aware of the deep connection between living and dying. Each moment serves as a reminder that everything is temporary, urging me to seek the truths within myself.

Facing the possibility of death due to two brain aneurysms was a turning point for me. The thought of having only a one-third chance of surviving surgery forced me to confront my fears directly. I realized that death is not merely an ending; it can also be a gateway to something new. This experience opened my eyes to the importance of embracing every moment and the love I share with those around me.

During my recovery, I reflected on my life in a way I never had before. I encountered vivid memories and emotions that mirrored my thoughts and actions, revealing the depth of my journey. I learned that dying is a transition, a sacred opportunity for change. With each breath, I strive to cultivate awareness and find clarity amid the noise and chaos.

I began to appreciate love and compassion more than ever, understanding that these feelings connect me to everyone else. My actions impact the world around me, emphasizing our shared existence.

I am learning to accept that life and death are part of a continuous cycle; a journey of growth and renewal. By accepting this flow, I have opened myself to new possibilities and deeper understanding. I have found peace in the realization that, despite the uncertainties, life is a precious gift that I cherish every day.

—

In the quiet of the mind, I find clarity,
Life and death intertwined, both a single path.
In the bardo, I encounter my fears,
Illusions dissolve as awareness arises.

Compassion guides me through the unknown,
Love transcends the boundaries of self.
Each moment is a lesson in letting go,
Embracing impermanence, I find freedom.

As I awaken, I see the cycle of rebirth,
In every ending, a new beginning unfolds.
With each breath, I cultivate presence,
And in stillness, I connect with all that is.

— Sincerely, Boris

Silent days, delicate rains,
clip clopping like marching horse,
on thin, steel roofs, and nylon umbrellas.

Drenched, sweating foreheads in summer climates,
consistent, cool winds like drooling  ice,
drying sopping skin, a rough cloth to an oily pan.

Starved road trip bellies, after intermittent rests and games of eye-spy,
salivating at laminated menus, and passerby plates,
pre-meal hot fries, fulling deep guts with salty chips and fizzing raspberry.

Waking hours before blaring alarms,
knocking parents, a whistling kettle, and the popping toaster;
an hour to lay restless head into the deep world of snug pillows and warm blankets;
as if your whole universe is one big cushion.

Finishing a chapter and curling rough page with soft finger,
placing floral bookmark into the straight crease,
placing it back into its spot on the shelf or bedside table.

Dawn coffee.
Friday afternoon.
Saturday morning.
Kind encounters.
Meeting deadlines.
A finished poem.

Suddenly it was November.
And it felt like the chance to be happy
was lost.
Shriveled and fragile,
as the slowly rotting leaves still clinging to trees.

I like the waves.
The way their static fizz tickles
the bristles of my ears,
as if they were long brown thistles in beach dunes,
engirding pools of sand between
the wet crevices of my toes.

I’ll lie in the bayside sheets of gold,
where the clouds drift silent,
encompassed by its warm fold,
soaking my horse-haired brush
into sand-speckled jar,
painting my watercolour flowers;
butter daffodils and heavens daisies.

I’ll lie on sun-dried towels
beneath chequered brolly
and scribble my brain
into summer-kissed parchment,
with leaded letters and granite words.

I’ll write in the colour of my soul,
using what’s left of my heart,
as I’m flayed down to the white-skinned bones
that hold me upright:
left thin and pale.
But, for these tapestries,
I find it worth my loves
discounted sale.

Déjà vu
All I had expected
Nolonger an ambition or dream
Actualness of reality
Proud, content, enthusiast
I've made it
Florescence above aspirations
A jubilation

So bright
Like a rose tree in sunshine
Aura of excitement
Bliss of beauty
Like aurora borealis
Sparkle of life
A mission to stay like this till eternity

A little to late
No regrets
Least happened when alive
Past now history
What I have !
A step of success
Further live in gratitude
A promise to disperse triumph