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5:30 AM on the beach
half sun floating on water
like a broken egg yolk
Haiku
World in chaos
life must go on
I planted tomatoes this morning
Haiku
I have not seen my my mother for such a long time.
The sweetest woman.
Sometimes I ask myself "where is my mother?"
I really want to see her.
But death is so final!
I lost my father a few years before losing my mom.
I used to sit with him in cafes and chat about anything.
Sometimes I ask myself, "where is my father?"
I really want to be in a cafe with him and chat.
But death is so final!
When I was young I lived with my aunt for a few months.
A wonderful young woman, taken away too early by cancer.
She treated me like her own son.
We enjoyed having ice cream.
Sometimes I ask myself, "where is my aunt?"
I really want to share an ice cream with her.
But death is so final!
I lost a good friend to COVID.
We used to have lunch together.
Sometimes I ask myself, "where is my good friend?"
I really want to have lunch with him.
But death is so final!
My mentor died of ALS.
I learned so much from him.
Sometimes I ask myself, "where is he?"
There is so much more I can learn from him.
But death is so final!
Mother's day
her gold necklace in my nightstand drawer
her sweet voice in my ears
haiku
The truth
got lost
in the maze of justice
Haiku
I have always disliked repetitive tasks:
Take a shower after having taken one the day before.
Shave my face after already shaving it a couple of days before.
Wash my car after washing it only a week ago.
Go grocery shopping again and again.
No, I am not Sisyphus, I tell myself,
cursed by the gods for eternity to push a rock up a hill,
only to see it roll down to the bottom of the hill.
Doing something once is enough for me.
I need to move on,
and do something entirely new.
But then again, moving on and on to something else
sounds like an ongoing repetitive cycle.
So, in fact, I am just like Sisyphus.
We are all like Sisyphus.
The cycle cannot be broken.
Earth goes around the sun for 365 days
only to start the same celestial voyage again,
on and on for billions of years.
Stars are born; stars die and then are reborn again.
And so it goes on and on.
Sisyphus was doing what everyone and everything else keeps doing.
People, planets, stars, the universe, are all Sisyphus.
I am caught in your orbit,
I think you know that.
An invisible string tie me to you,
I believe you feel that.

How did it happen?
How does it work?
Is it you or is it me?
Or is it just my fantasy?

Are you a diabolic sorceress?
Did you make me swallow an alchemist’s potion?
Or is this just a lover’s hallucination,
borne out of sheer fantasy?

To feel is to be.
So set your heart and mind free,
and they may lead you up to me,
or maybe this is just my fantasy.

I can’t tell if you’re real or a figment of my imagination.
Regardless, even if you did not exist
I would make you up; I would invent you;
A beautiful fantasy of my own creation.
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