Pablo wants to do with Matilda
what spring does with cherry trees


He longs to perfume the room
with a lately-opened bloom
when life gifted him lemons
not having, but making heaven
the best of everything's given

The milk in the fridge will whip
into smooth china silk
soon licking the dry lips
She didn't cry over the scalded milk
like he had with his love spilled.

She chose to chocolate fudge it
those essential ingredients
expediently leftover in the grudging shelf
pairs so well with plain vanilla
chemist says it is pure medicinal

Fella won't know what he's getting
from life's chocolate boxes
hidden beneath few good rocks
birds, beauty and not a beast
If only enough is as good as he feasts


Paula wants to reveal with Matthew
what autumn does with maple trees

I've been trying to run away from my demons but somehow it feels like I'm just running in circles...
I've been trying to run away from myself, but the mirrors in my room have managed to trap me inside...
I've been trying to scream and let this air out, but my pride has cut off the oxygen inside my lungs...
I've been trying to figure out my place in this life... but I just find arrows pointing in different directions, so I'm at a standstill feeling lost...

This internal fight is like battle that has no ending date... my soldiers completely exhausted, don't know how long they can continue on... and I in the middle of the field just waiting for the deadly shot.

In spite of everything ... my heart continues on a fearless pursuit for the thief that has taken happiness its hostage ... my heart doesn't care how much my mind has to fight... or how badly my feet want to run on the opposite direction.

My heart is the ultimate warrior, the only one to save me when my anxious lifetime companion tries to become a permanent visitor inside my home.

Summer heat abates
Crisp green cracks with autumn rust
Inhale sweet decay

Like a thick mist that just won't pass I'm getting caught up in the haze.
Heart on its knees fighting to beat, still confused and questioning things in my brain.
I still have puzzle pieces but not enough remnants to make sense of anything.
Love lingers still, while I wake up every day out of a dream that I thought I was wide awake in.
So in the words of Sade,
I've got to wash you off my skin.

6:00 a.m.
It was her 28th birthday
She loaded the ***** laundry into a washing machine
and looked at the toilet that she needed to clean
She fixed her hair, she took a shower
without even looking at her own reflection on the mirror
She grabbed a cup of instant coffee
and gulped ounces of it to steer away the terror
She tossed the cup in the bin
but missed because her hands tremored
And as if time was racing with light speed
she saw the sunset fading away in retreat
She goes to work the next morning
with layers of concealer under her eyes
but she could never conceal her wistful smile
She comes home with her daughter sleeping in her bedroom
And on the sofa was her tired husband
still in his party clown costume
At the corner was the telephone with five voicemails from her mom
but she never found time to listen to her qualms
She glanced at the night sky from her window
with an almost unnoticeable sorrow

One day she woke up and she was 70
Still doing the same laundry
Still drinking the same instant coffee
She looked at her daughter walk down the aisle
with her father who almost never smiles
She brought flowers to her mom's grave
but she couldn't hear her from the other side with the distorted soundwave
She still walks out her doorstep with the same shoes
Almost getting tired of hearing the same news
She still sees the sunset from that window
And she looks out from them with the same almost unnoticeable sorrow

She woke up and she was 28 again
She started to make an effort to notice her face on the mirror
She took time to look at her mom and cheer her
She hugged her husband more and this time tighter
She sank her lips into her daughter's soft cheeks
And never dared to miss a moment when her innocent lips speaks
She walked out the door before the sun could set
to finally buy a new pair of shoes, they were red
She walked the earth as if it were her first time
and she locked her gaze into the golden sunshine

Time passed and she's now 92
And on her deathbed, she said
'If there's one thing that sunsets had taught me,
It is that transitions can be beautiful too.'

A chill wind
prepares the land for sleep
snow-weighted clouds
brush golden-stubbled wheat fields
and bare clotted earth
laid out in heirloom patchwork
stitched from lean and bountiful years.

Poplar trees
arranged in perfectly
contoured lines
resist enforced conformity
their flaming arms
reach for each other
tangle and entwine.

Here,
good souls touch down
like wind-blown seeds
from distant lands
of sunlit love
fading purple twilight
and midnight blackness

gently settling
in fertile, protected hollows
where possibilities rest
and winter-over
awaiting the time to wake
and begin anew.

it's not often that once is Only
and that last is really the End.

forever is only a little
and goodbye is "in theory."

starts and stops are just in the heart.

memories are in the mind.

and the choice is in my hands.