A gentle breeze;
A warm sunshine;
A drop of rain;
A wave of joy;
A shine of star;
A friend's shoulder;
A soft whisper;
A glimmering moon;
A lover's kiss;

.. an eternal dream!

I watch her shrivel
In her shell,
Everytime the sun shines:
Perhaps the darkness hides her wounds,
And the battle she fights with time.

I watch her shed
Her wings,
Quite often, while looking upon the sky:
Perhaps she wonders what lies above,
Where even the stars happen to die.

I watch her tie
Her dreams,
Like they are supposed to be,
Perhaps she enjoys the absence of joy,
.... Or the pleasure of making it last.

the drizzle of sorrow
on a scarred heart
gathers in a series of puddle;
whereupon, the disdainful joy
often jumps, splashing
the drops of melancholy
all over.

Where do you hide what I seek?
I search in your voice, when you speak..
I probe your eyes, the ocean deep..
I lie at the door of your secured heart..
Holding on to that golden key
Of hope.
Is that where your treasures you keep?
Let this man have them enrich.
Let its glimmer shine through your eyes;
And, drip through your face,
And settle on the lips:
the broadening of which brightens
the seeker's day!
Give this man the joy he seeks..

The sweltering heat
of a burning desire
singes
the memory
of the long forgotten
souls.

The whispers of time
flows like a wind
raging the fire
of remorse.
of hope.

The undulating smoke
of clueless dreams
dissipates
leaving behind
the void
of colossal emptiness.

To watch the waves of time appear roaring towards the shore with the submerged dreams of yesterday;

To watch the dried-up land of solitude moisten with the tears of hope once again;

To watch the sea swallow the glowing sun as the feet sink into the sand, disappearing beneath the grains of illusion;

To revel in the dusk while the atrocious winds of nostalgia soothes the absence of joy;

To eventually let the darkness consume the sheer being that withstood the cruelty of the spell called life.. all this while.

She has no mirror
but where flirt the leaves with the pond
she comes in the cool of noon
mixing the dark of her hair
with the summer shade
dipping into glass green water
her toes and far above
and all the pond sees
encrypts within the bubbles of rainbow
that only her clothes
swelled in awe
can read.

O Babylon! Your God is a sport-utility vehicle, a VCR, and a two-car garage!
You delight in images of killing and artificially-large-breasted women!
Your arteries are clogged with Big Macs and a thousand pieces of Kentucky-Fried Chicken!
Your God is Technology.  Your God is Progress.

Your skyscrapers rise to the heavens!  Your astronauts fly to the moon!
You clone sheep! alter genes! make a mountain into a parking lot!
Your fields flower!  Your grain-bins groan under the weight of the ripe corn!
But the land of your soul is a desolation.

O God of Henry Ford, the Wright Brothers, and Bill Gates,...
All the nations adore Thee!
(Pretty soon they'll be ordering Papa John pizza by cell phone in New Guinea....)
Your God is Mammon.

After the movies, after the Quarter-pounders-with-cheese, super-size fries, and a large Coke,
after the evening news, the Hostess cupcakes, golf, beers, and swimming 20 laps,
the hunger will be the same as the day you first felt it, O Babylon!
the thirst of the soul, O Babylon!