Collecting sea shells at the shore
rare and exotic with their vibrant colors
regal queen conch shell and cowries
sea shells from the mysterious depths of the ocean connecting the body and the spirit cruising through wandering souls  
when playing death songs on my weeping violin to cry to I bid farewell to all the loved ones  
All the books that have once been read to bring solace and consolation are now dusty and rusty in my mind
Compass… and the dice
Roll the dice and hide
Toll the bell and die

Finding ourselves amidst the confusing harmony ornamented by turns and trills, and wildly alternating loud and quiet notes
the unexpected rhythms travel to unexpected places in a chaotic order through clearly heard melodies of life
phases of the world, shifts...transitions
Transitioned, transitioning, transitions
Anticipated and unanticipated changes
Sometimes sophisticated, suave, and civilized, harmonious streams and passages of flowing strings  
And at times abrupt, aback, shocking and drastic, giant strides
speed up and slow down in awe through
fueling catastrophes of exhaustion,
and all the good notes and colors, and flowers and poems, bottles of good wine amassed  
all pleasures and pains will prevail  
as the red carnations shall never wilt

The tulip has wilted in a hopelessly unfair...despair,
in a pink powder like weak fragility of partially disappeared shiny lipstick
dry, draggy and clumpy.
Many have been consumed and most have been lived through.
Kissed and drained.
Ornamented crowds have fleeted
and many have been lost
vanished and gone.
Wealth, health and glamour all expired with fleeing memories.
Shiny carnival glasses just hold worn out and deceased bodies leaving spirits aloof
skulls shall now smile inadvertently, not minding the sand running through the neck one hour after another
all the tulips, even the purple ones, have withered

Beneath my skin and skull
Hidden smiles and lies,
Buried hopes and despairs.
I wander among the wrecks
and ruins of the war zone,
Posing for a photo with a few
friends-
And a couple of others who
have been here since the
beginning.

Beneath the surface of the
Earth is a perfect place to
restart.
Death is peaceful, quiet.
Perhaps, the best way to live.

Blooming when no one ever immediately witnessed
Was it yesterday or today that the whole sky turned pink with tints of white paint
You turned my heart into a cherry blossom a  whirl of candy floss laughs and smiles
Renewing my gray memories of love with
rosy balloons and red lipstick
Comfort, warmth, and passion
Smoothing all the cracks with compassion
and filling empty branches with a nurturing hope and revitalizing flushes of first love play-fullness
Spontaneously blooming contentment of joyful femininity
Turning the whole life into a happy sakura celebrating nature and the coming of spring  bragging about how beautiful the world could be if all the barren souls awakened
We started all over again …fresh and new pink buds pushing through
Smiles, laughs and sakuras
A joviality of festive beauty in fruity and sweet flowery fragrances
Short it was too short…and sudden
All the flowers wilted
breathless and dehydrated in a drowning bath of  fears and tears
Snow flakes of my soul
Weeping sakuras

Vanishing
vanities of life
eventually...
disappear
in the hands of those living
Skulls and roses
time and dice
and...
wilted flowers
all wry and dry

I have come back to you words
waking up from scattered dreams
beneath love lie lies
surrounded by the lonely dunes
had bads disguised
glittering shimmer soaked coals
pain like unfettered moors
shackles of despair