A quiet fury
blossoms in my chest,
an orchid of rage
unfolds in silence,
poisonous and strangely beautiful,
creamy petals strain against
the cavity where I once
kept my heart.

What would you say to me
If I told you that all things
have a name?

A name, created forever ago-
A name singular, secret and sacred-
A name that grants form?

What if I told you
that if you cried out
The Name of the Moon,

You could bathe at mid-day
under its dappled, failing shine-
playing partner to its light?

That if you called to the skies
you could surround yourself
with a span of azure infinity,

Paint sun-songs with hidden words,
Or caress cloud-worn creations while
floating in blue nothingness?

To think; You could merely utter
The Name of Oceans - That
vast implication; You could

Summon distant, breaking shores
for your own inspection and approval-
To satisfy the simplest curiosity?

Would you say it was a fantasy?
Something grand to ponder;
And then regretfully forget?

That to strum the chords of creation
with key-words and mere intentions,
Is a blasphemy?

But what if... What if
I spoke to you the Name of Love,
As soft as daylight-sighs ending?

Would you scoff at my audacity,
To arrogantly manipulate its meaning
by not letting it go free?

Or would you realize, and see-
That despite all that power, I can't find
the name for what you mean to me?

I like these ideas and they fill me with pleasure-
My words like lances, striking this earthly tether,
And transcending common thought, engaging the forever.

For you see, what gives me the pleasure out of poetry,
Is knowing someone has read it, and has experienced me-

They now know my thoughts, what I choose to pen.
A carefully constructed facade, in a truthful, youthful blend;
Open hearts given a start will break apart into words of art,
And all these beautiful things, will end.

However, the end doesn't mean that there won't be a beginning,
There's no falsehood in wonder, questioning isn't sinning.

Poets are the explorers, the builders with words,
They explore the condition, through adjectives and verbs-
They give chase to the worlds flights of fancy,
They are the ones who dream of romancing.

But.... why are we so often, not heard?

If the world had one less body
And one less broken heart
If the world lost my soul
And had it torn apart
If this life was empty
And I didn't know who sent me
If I had a calling
A person to catch me when I'm falling
If I owned the universe
And kept it in my purse
If I could catch stars
And sail them afar
If I could swim to the bottom of the lake
And choose which path to take
If I could fly on borrowed wings
And know what the morning would bring
If I couldn't talk with my lips
And I could only speak when I kiss
If I could dream in black and white
And hold you close through the night
If I could let my stresses go
And would swim with the flow
If I had a rule book for life
And didn't die during the night
If I had a world with pictured glass
And it was one that wouldn't last

Would you miss a world without me?

in the silence
our thoughts are the loudest
they're the creaks of the floorboards
letting us know
we are not alone
whether the voices are good or bad
the silence really will never invade our minds

After the morning walk,
While returning,
Bought two bananas from the tea shop

While eating it,
Tried sketching the person
Who cultivated it, in my imagination

Where would the farmer
Who grew the bananas
That I am eating now, be?

Will he be sleeping
Or farming?

Will he be

While thinking about the farmer,
Remembered father, who was an agriculturist himself

Pity!

It was necessary to buy a banana
For this ungrateful seed
To remember its own cultivator!

The sea waves crash gently against my toes
the ever so gentle wind slowly stealing my lows
The moment seems to perfect to forget
the ever so gentle wind slowly stealing my regrets
The sun bringing back all the dreams which seem to good to be true
the ever so gentle wind slowly helping me through
The endless tricks being played on my eyes
the ever so gentle wind helping forget all the lies
*The ever so gentle wind