Mixing tea, let's say lavender with something as simple as milk
Must sound silly and weird at first glance, as both come with their
own tastes and flavors which seem to not match at all.
Even the most unmatching couple can find bliss, harmony and
perfection in their very relationship, however.
Such as for the tea;

The milk manages to soften, embrace, advertise the taste of lavender
while leaving a pleasant aftertaste which is alike a ghost poorly
detectable, but present nonetheless after all.
With some sugar to sweeten this experience, it becomes divine,
something I would never have thought of, of such an odd couple.
The image of the lavender becomes overdrawn by the milk,
Engaging in a pure, creamy, brief white which reflects light just
in a majestic sense.
This is a taste to become lost in whilst reading a book in the best
of lightings, together with someone who causes your heart to race
and just turn ablaze

~ Umi

May thunders and lightings fall upon my bones, I want to become dust,
I yearn to be home,

oh heaven oh heaven
Or hell

Could them be my home?

I feel lost in these streets that I have crossed, i feel like I walked trough fire but I did not get burn,
oh god I feel, I feel and it hurts


But it's not my skin that aches,
not my heart but my soul,
It hurts

Thus thunders and lightings fall upon my bones, I want to become dust,
I want to be home

Or rather I want to be nothing

Just gone.

It’s there,
Where water meets fire,
Where lightings strikes the ground.
That’s where my heartbeat goes.

My chest feels like it was filled
With tampered strings.
Once so sharp and precise,
Now dull and inconsistent.

Mother always asks where my love is.
I tell her it hasn’t moved in years.
Her dumbfound look
Meets my half smile.

How do I lie to a broken mirror?
Where even my reflection is fake.
How do I mute the cannon fire,
Deep within my chest?

Midnight and I'm finally awake in my hospital bed,
There was an accident which almost cost my life
Rushed, rush to the emergency room
A man in white cloak says "Bring another bag, replace all the loss blood in her system. "
Eyes were focused on the lightings above.
Consciousness has left the body in the hands of a stranger.
Limbs were broken but wait, there's more.
I reached for my phone to play its tunes,
Browsed chrome, and spot myself to a familiar page
Nothing fascinating, only a sentiment of a man
I read through the pages as Sam Smith sings "Lay Me Down"
Water in my eyes started to flow while the moonlight glows
Like an empty shell in the ocean, I remain still.
Days ago, I had everyone introduce themselves.
The back side of the brain was hit, but the frontal lobe was damaged badly, a contracoup.
Doctor says this won't be permanent, just a temporary amnesia.
I listened to the ramblings around, I am lost.
Attention deficit disorder makes it hard to focus
My thoughts keep on going back to the man behind those lines
Who are you?
How are we related?
I dig my mem'ries
Deeper I go each ******* day
Blank, nothing but a blank parchment
I lost it in the seven seas.
Let's try and retrieve it.
No, once gone, there's no going back.
No, don't say no.
At least let me do my best.
Such a stubborn woman.
For once, listen to what they say
You're at fault for your misery
I don't give up, I never give up.
This is just a temporary memory lost, nothing that much.
The blood started dripping again,
I stared at the stars and the moon above.
In the realm of dreams, I return.
As an old love song says **"Till the day my life is through, this I promise you. "

The Stand They Made
The great oak wields great power he sends his roots deep financial social religious he stands at the edge
Of the family’s domain has endured many lightings and thundering outburst under the savage wind
Many have been the groans that were uttered this was not sadness being brought forth to cover the
Ground and then what waste it would produce no this is noble sacrifice all encircling love being
Projected not one blade of grass exists without showing this uncommon glory the house the property
Glows over the faces of the dependent little ones it shines. The Oak has a partner in this great enterprise
Best to describe these capabilities in three timbers of renown the Maple the Elm and the willow from
This convergence and the intertwining of the three into one piece a masterful work of art herein lies the
Lines that flow in unbroken symmetry the oak of might the creation of his delight. When the journey
Demands you climb unbroken hills onward to dry unkind dispositions the maple decidedly smaller and
Has its name derived from sharpness of its pointed leaves and its breathless beauty in four colors in the
Heavenly autumn do you know anything that could make the oak bow more quickly. Oh the Elm has
Stepped to the helm woman hood I speak of you softer kinder the breeze seeks your tendrils for its
Proud moments for gusts and raw display you spellbound all that look your way. The Oak tells his times
Of gladness by your beauty voiceless reminder of why we endure life’s slights and backward turns. One
Long lasting look please willow move touch the core of the Oak that only you know the wisp of your
Branches touched me above my minds ability to comprehend the feelings I feel. The Oak grows in
Terraced courtyards that angels frequent but he is looking beyond the brightness of their Glory to that
Day when you spoke I do no one saw but the mighty oak fell that day under your spell. This is what I saw
When I looked into Donna’s father and mothers face.

Wings of the Wasp

Is it possible to change into a wasp and fly away into the world of dreams? Małgosia sometimes played with children in the courtyard, but on the swing in her garden she loved to follow the land of imagination. Dad displayed her films on the wall. The heroes of tales were her real friends. She found in books life on the other side…
Through the open window were flying intrusive insects. One of them fell into her ear. She woke up and wiped her eyes from astonishment. The room was swaying like a boat immersed in the sea. Pirate ships were swimming around. The girl looked at the picture hanging on the wall, it  changed into a red bird in a flash. She wanted to get up and go for a walk with the dog, but she felt that something strange is happening. Can that be that she slept in dad’s shaggy jumper? She looked in the mirror and remained speechless. She was all hairy and wings were sprouting from the back. Woven from dreams they were glittering similar to the cloth from which she sewed dresses for dolls. She touched them to feel if they are real. In a moment she lifted up, happy. She has always dreamt about flying. It is surely a dream. Mum’s scarf was fluttering from a wardrobe. Setter in dad’s riding boots entered the room.
-I won’t go to the park like an ordinary dog. I want to know Your world. Maybe we will go the amusement park?-she said with an Irish accent.
The girl couldn’t take a breath. Her pet, beloved cuddly toy spoke with a human voice.
-Altunia! Come here, I’ll comb You.
-Talk to me Alti, that’s how I have written in the family tree. I’m an aristocrat. You can make me an exquisite breakfast, this time I’ll eat bacon and eggs with You at the table and don’t pet me without my permission.
-I’m glad that I can talk with You. I’ve always wanted to know what You feel.
I think that You don’t understand dogs. We’re the most sensitive creatures in the world. You can talk with me, because You’ve changed into a wasp in a wonderful way…
She looked in the mirror and she couldn’t believe. She was an insect. She had antennae, bug eyes and abdomen.
She looked out of the window. Trams were flying at the city like dragonflies. Computers and smartphones conquered the streets. Police dogs were directing traffic. The world was light and colourful like painted with multi-coloured pencils. From huge hands growing from the earth like trees doors were opening, birds were flying from them. Suddenly she heard a strange patter. To her astonishment she saw the most incredible species of dinosaurs which she lately saw in the children coloring book. They were eating leaves from the trees and were talking with people about the construction of a new world. Lego bricks came to life, old ages started to mingle with the present time. Knights on dragons were entering the house, pirates ships were built with the high-speed hovercrafts. Małgosia moved her wings and suddenly she found herself in the familiar place. But it wasn’t similar to her kind-hearted kindergarten. It was rebuilt into a space ship. The most incredible creatures lived there.People-Insects and doggy cats were teaching children alphabet and pronunciation, flowers were quarreling in English about the place in the main alley, lamps were perfecting image showing in the best light. She lifted up over the earth. She could fly higher than eagles and planes. She watched a new world from the bird’s eye view: auto-dragonflies, glidery birds and parroty drones.
Suddenly the storm broke. The lightings changed children room into a huge eye of the cyclone. Red, golden, orange birds circled over the house. They flew from the lost planet of eternal happiness.
Wasps in suits were singing the music of Michael from The Jackson Five. They were playing football with Tsubasa. The world was suspended in the colours of the rainbow. The rain of sweets fell into the earth. Irysy and krówki conquered the milky way. Televisions jibber-jabbered at the table, computers advertised “Prince Polo” around. You could see in them how the world would be in a thousand years time and how it was before Christ.
The world was light as a soap bubble. It was flying higher and higher.
-If You’ll be dilligent and You’ll read a lot of books You’ ll meet a nice surprise.
-What ? I can’t wait!
- I’ll take You to a place which once exists and once doesn’t exist.
She jumped with joy. She moved her wings and flew away with her setter to a mysterious land where the river of caramel flowed, houses, schools and kindergartens were built from wafers and gingerbreads and icicles of Italian ice-cream were hanging down from the roofs.
-Look out! If you taste these sweets the land will melt away.
-They look so delicious, that I can’t hold back.
-In grown up life you’ll have to deny yourself not once.
Ms. Pear went in hand with Mr. Apple to the garden over which hanged the cloud of whipped cream. In this land everyone was long-living. They didn’t know troubles and suffering. The King Honey First ruled there, taught his minions goodness, tolerance and wisdom.
-O! If only on Earth it was so beautiful…
-It is only so in the fairy tales.
-You said that imagination has a great power.
-In the world where you are everything is possible. Look only in the mirror.
She looked in the grandmother’s mirror. She saw a train going into the past, inside chairs seemed to look at her with little gray eyes, oranges were dancing like oriental dancers, still life was coming down from the old pictures and as a living wandered in the corridor of the rushing vehicle. Birds settled down in the antique clock, the dog wagged his tail at them, books told forgotten stories. Two frogs jumped to the room croacking that they’re princesses from the green kingdom.
The room went green taking the form of a shaking jelly. You could jump on it like on the trampoline with the ever growing group of royal frogs, walk through the walls and closed doors. It was infinitely incredible.
-Great…I can walk through the walls, I don’t need windows and doors.
-The world belongs to you princess!
Everything is so soft like a chewing gum, objects extend.
-If You want, you can take something to your hand and form something new, only use imagination.
The girl took a piece of picture and formed a flower, she didn’t like it, so she changed it into a bird. In a flash she taught him how to fly using a sign language. Perfect play, better than old origami!
-And now I’ll show You a trick possible only in the Land of Wasps.
They sat in the children bed which at once started to fly.
-We’ll fly into the future.
They got in and glided twenty years ahead. The girl saw herself with the children at the blackboard. She was teaching English preschoolers. She had home and a happy family. She was writing tales about her experiences from childhood.
Suddenly time twirled. The house lifted up and started to rush nowhere.
-In the Land of Wasps every sorrow can be changed into a joy.
-And now I’ll show you a trick possible only in the Land of Wasps.
-I think that this book is wiser more than one sage.
-From now You will always be happy.


Flowery People

Małgosia suddenly found herself in the flowery world cracking from the excess of colours, shapes, voices, thoughts and prejudices. She tasted life with all senses like a well-baked mum’s cake. She was listening more and more to the huge ear of the flowery world. Something started to rattle. Blurred memories, whispers and voices were coming from inside, flooded with light, saturated with colours.
Faces were moving and restless. She was running losing herself, opening pages of the new events, but everything became for her blurry, reality seemed to be inaccessible. She had to pretend that she understands the world of talking birds and insects, but it was too much for her. She walked slowly in the crowd and in the dazzling brightness of the cars, like a little lonely ant and she didn’t feel the part of the surrounding reality. She prefered to look and taste the beauty of the drop of a dew, changing move of face, mimicry, to listen to the whirr of existence.
Flowery People and Insect-People were in great friendship. In this land the sun was always shinning, no one was sad and didn’t know what evil was. Flowery creatures have never been ill, they lived long and happily. The world was an eternal play of imagination.
-O, if only Earth was such a beautiful, paradise garden.
-Suffering is needed.
-Why?
- For people to appreciate more its absence.
Flowery world had one weakness. It existed only when it was dry and hot. With the rain of tears the garden melted and disappeared.
-As you can see goodness and health are fragile.
-What can we do to save them?
-Do good, respect health.


Pigeonholed

Drawery People full of thoughts and memories were the separated world. There were the corners of existence going to infinity. This interior, the richness of colours, shapes and voices made Małgosia into astonishment. She stood close to the coral time which resembled foamed sea hiding its mysteries. She wanted to get inside, but it was inaccessible for her. Drawery people were still searching the stairs leading to the interior. In their kingdom everything was blurring, losing shapes and names. Life played with death, it was music and her echo.
They walked with difficulty, jamed, hiding fears, they were like unwritten pages of the books. Closed they came to life, when someone opened the drawer. Cities were built inside where kings and ordinary people lived. You only had to look inside and small kingdoms, empires and civilizations arised. Pages of the exercise-book were changing into planes and pencils into ballet dancers.
-Don’t touch them, because they’re so fragile that they will break in a moment. Like corals strung on a thread. That’s life of the pigeonholed people.
-I’d like to talk with them.
-Before You have to learn their language.
-The whole world separates us.
-Look out when you clean the desk, pencil case and school accessories, you can hurt its being. Every object has a soul, you have to only learn to see and hear them, not only think about yourself. Pens changed suddenly into the army of soldiers, they started to fight with the sharpeners. She found a sentence on the desk: “fulfill your dreams”. In every drawer a new dream was waiting and a new world to discover, you had to only find the key and the door to the most magnificient tale was opening. In the first drawer she saw little people, everything was diminished there. You had to tiptoe not to afraid creatures little and helpless like children. In the second drawer there was the world of giants, in the next lived animals speaking with a human voice, in the another there were pencils changed into wizards, flying trams, glidery birds. She opened the old, creaky door.
She went to the wardrobe. She took her favourite clothes. It appeared that they could move her into the different time. Somehow she has never liked to wear dresses and tights, but she saw that after wearing them she could travel to another planet and know it inhabitants. In a new world everything was possible. It was sufficient to have a dream and furry wings took her wherever she wanted. She had to find suitable key for the magical desk. It happened that this key was learning a new word. The girl started to read more tales, dictionaries and belles-lettres because she wanted her dreams to come true.
Thanks to the wings she visited all the countries of the world. She was moving in time, she learned history, geography and literature. She discovered how big is the power of thought and imagination. She lived in the land of pure white, everything was fleeting here, it lasted only a moment and then it stopped to be. She traveled there where instead of people walked clocks in hats, they were driving cars, building new civilizations. In this place time was flowing too fast, she couldn’t keep up with him.
-I want to save him. Be always a happy child. Just like in my dreams. Why it can’t be like that?
-If you were a child, you would be really unhappy. Dreams are beautiful only for a moment, then comes reality which can be beautiful too. You only have to use imagination, change bad moments into a joy-said Irish lady.
Suddenly strong wind started to blow. It turned over the pages. In one moment the letters woke up from a dream and started to walk in the city. Some of them wanted to be free and changed into birds. It was strange to meet wandering letters in the street. Suddenly the whole world was filled with the alphabet from the tales.
-People think that they know our world, but it hides many mysteries. In every letter there is a treasure more precious than gold. Who will discover hidden meanings, will be the happiest sage-said the setter.
-Why people don’t read tales and stories, they prefer to close in the circle of computers and televisions?-asked the girl.
-It’s easier. Life written in books is more rich, but more difficult to learn.
-It’s a pity that I’m not a dog, then everything would be much easier.
-O princess, believe me, our world is more complicated than you think. Be happy that you have a loving family and a dog, the most faithful friend.
-Take me to the other land that I would tell children and grandchildren.
-Bow-wow-barked the dog and together they soared.
She landed in the country where ruled the colour blue, yellow and red. When she woke up she was in the place of eternal happiness. Adults didn’t have to go to work and children get up to school. Duties were changed into pleasure. This world was infinite, it was swimming like a river, it was swaying like a pendulum of a clock. It resembled cat’s cradle. Lakes were looking at people like the faithful river. You could see your soul in them like in the mirror.
-What is happiness?
-It’s different for everyone.
-Dogs are happy when they have treats and comfortable bedding.
-Probably we are the most happy when man likes back our fidelity and devotion.
Suddenly the drawers and wardrobes extended like telescopes, they started to look at me and smile. I was sure that they hide the stories of the past years. I learned that dresser was once a princess and coffee table the knight in the Romanian chariot.
Drawery cities were flooded by the tea with lemon.
-I have to save it and clean up.
-You can do it like in life, there is always a way.
Drawery city closed and started to dream for the next years.
-Maybe it will wake up when it grows up.



On the Other side of the Mirror

Gosia remembers how she didn’t want to get out from the house of dolls and children bathtub. She imagined that she hides time to the pocket and changes its course. She was coming back to a little girl listening to her world. Every moment was filled with longing for childhood. Life was closing in the room of play. She felt like a spider tangling the net with the thread of imagination. She created new kingdoms on the pieces of paper, she rambled to the past.
She folded life in the drawers like mother clothes. Time stopped to flow then. Every word, look was a story. Moments resembled the river of her childhood where she felt safe and peaceful, she could be whatever she wanted in spite of the world. She floundered in the water like a heron, she was touching the sand soft like a dream, she was paddling, the water was still, clean like her reflection in the mirror, fear and anxieties disappeared, everything was possible, she imitated the flight of birds, she felt one of them, free and comfortable with herself. The border between childhood and adulthood didn’t exist. She could dream, she didn’t hear the voices of the street, cars rushing nowhere, there was only she and the river. She was looking with joy at the hut from the children adventures. It was built with leaves and letters of memories. She laid on the back and turned her face toward the sun. She was approaching to the footbridge taking her away from adulthood. Green waves entwined her body and soul. She wanted to spread her wings and fly away.
Mom, Dad and dog, it was all her world which provided peace. Time was playing with her, it was looking at her with a pinch of salt when she was changing into a bird, stone, river swimming to the desired goal.
Life seen through the mirror has broken to pieces.
Grown up Małgosia cleaned her room of play. She closed the drawers of the desk.
She got dressed and combed her hair on her own. She didn’t need the Land of Wasps any more…

it seems that no matter how hard i try
a perfect day can never be
i get bored
and i get lonely
so i go and take pictures
to make a scene that seems serene
is not like it seems
the lightings never right
so changes i do make
and i come to find
that even the best
can not make the
fake world perfect with ease

i am a muck around from 9 am to 11.50 pm kind of guy


you see there are few things i hate in life

but one thing is falling asleep in the middle of the day

and staying up at night, i hate that, i hate that all so very much

you see i prefer to do my tapestry, even if i look lazy

i still prefer to do my tapestry during the day

because it’s much easier to sleep after midnight

so what if people are laughing at my old mates theory

if you go to bed early you can turn into a pumpkin

mind you i don’t want to be forced, by the force to go to bed

but as long as i get my creativity done, i don’t really care

you see staying up past midnight is so kids stuff

i want my medication to make sure i don’t do that

for me, if i stay up after midnight, i would be a hooligan

and i am not a hooligan, i am a family person

sometimes i sleep on the bed

sometimes i sleep on my chair

but i sleep better after midnight

i had fun being with my mates as a kid

i just want this whole forcing me to sleep, or stay awake to stop

i am a 46 year old man now, i need my beauty sleep

and despite that i like to muck with the young dudes

i am 46, i have spurs in my feet, and fungal affected toes

i want to forget about the bad stuff i did and take it out through creativity

i don’t want to take old lady nanna naps or be an old drunk in the club

i am an artist and a writer and a youtube entertainer

and i want to move on with my life

i still like heavy metal, but i don’t like the trouble that surrounds it

i still like sport, but i ain’t into playing that either

i am hearing my old mates voice trying to get me to stat up all night with him

that is one thing i don’t want to do, in life you need your sleep

i find youtube is better than foxtel, i watch it from 9.00 am to 11.50 pm

then i go to bed, after i do my youtube party show, if it is the weekend

so stop the force telling me to sleep all day and stay up all night

i don’t do that anymore, i am reformed to being a family person

a real christmas man, i love carols nights and christmas tree lightings

i do enough, stop trying to keep me up all night, i am reformed now

never to stray away from family life a gain

I write to fight the demons inside of my head,
And I cant complain less,
I try to pour all my emotions into words,
At times I fail, but I still try,
Sometimes the sadness takes over,
makes me cry,
If I were an artist, I would draw what sadness looks like,
But I’m not,
So, I carry a pen with a piece of paper and turn that pain into poetry,
But people won’t hear the voids,
the depth of emotions just reading the words,
And that’s not enough,
My pen can be a sword,
But it’s silent,
It should make the sound of each and every strikes,
I need to be heard,
That’s why I feel like reciting my writings,
My words won’t bring any thunder or lightings,
But it might help myself in building that confidence,
To come out of my little shell,
To believe in self,
And think beyond the thinkable,
Make myself capable, of doing what I’ve been scared for so long,
I could write a thousand songs,
Good, bad, right and wrong,
I make a lot of mistakes,
But my words won’t undo the wrong,
Only thing I can do is learn from it,
All these problems in life,
And I don’t want to run from it.
That’s why I write to fight the demons and voids,
I’m just writing for myself,
Seeking some poetic justice,
May be some day I’ll write for people,
Until then, I am no poet.

Things I deemed irreplaceable,
choices, acts, unexplainable,
words and sightings,
breath taking lightings
on a statue under cloth.
My sloth got the best
of me, my eyes the rest.

I took you in and let you touch me
get me, see me, you were holding
every string, pulling ever so slightly,
making me dance, making me sing.

I forgot how we were equally the same
I removed the drapes much too late,
the statue had gotten into a rotten state,
decayed, nothing stayed except its frame.

Pedestals, forged without a sound,
rose and carried you up towards the stars,
where you belonged, where all could see.
Yet as you went, I frowned,
my dreams fought wars
with the harsh reality.
And I begged of you to show your face,
return to the ground or leave no trace
behind, my mind devoured beauty
as if it was breakfast, as if it was his duty
to make things up and mourn the loss
of any unimagined creature to come across
this lonesome land.

With a rope in hand
we seek perfection,
instead of growing,
fill the void with thought
to end up throwing
art in bins, for nought.
When we get caught
for all our sins
that's when actual love begins.

Walking on a street's path
A distance as far as I've been back
Lessons and retrospects carried in an heavy backpack
Streets lights off standing tall under the sky'
s dark
Dark as panther in a zoo or a park
O' peace of sight
Rare are you in my days
Endangered sanity at night's plight
The glory of day uplifted and dropped in an emigrant's flight
Walk on keep
A voice passes me by
In dark knowledge of my start
Not even enfants it has been
But grown exceedingly pass my reach
Still walking yet destination awaits me
Legs crumbling head unarmed
Growing older yet they passed me
Ha' you famous of sight haven't you grown
Said as they were inferior now superior
I am as they were before
Lights inplaced at my backpack
Never knew I these lights is a collection mindless to my knowing
The lights of conquest and triumph which beam is essential
Lightings of value and dignity exuding inevitable shine
Lights of blunder rays so repeat them not
All these lights never knew I
The inscrutability invades my mind
Evoked my soul to it's captivity
O' spirit of exigency,deceit, corruption and unpatriotism
Can't thy be exhumed
Control my mind ignore the lights pack
Walking through out the darkness you caused
Growing older moving backwards
Retrospects of who I was
Doctor now patient
Teacher now student
Long gone host now parasite
Too late to back
Extremely damaged to front
Can't just find a way through this darkness
Old lady of Africa
Treasured by history
Record as a routine I've broken
Adrift till I've broken my self
About to none
That's for the others impeccably
Imperiled by a spirit in mind
Collecting the strings yet I play not any
Evinced impetuosity mischief set in motion
Can't desorb in this modern solvent
Peter natural to be seen as such
I should be the star that parties with the moon
The zephyr that coaxes the tree leaves in mobility
Being not the sun that chases the moon away the sky
Nor the fire that burns the trees
This darkness drives away my delight
Impute backwardness
Lest I think those lights I ignored years long
This journey seems impervious
This dire adventure is far from the abyss of remedy

Let there be lightings, thunders, and fire when we meet
So that we can see our faces clearly
So I can see your every scar, and you can see mine
So that we are used to each other's voices
and fire
and heat
Let the grounds be wet with the pouring rain of tears that follows
so that the soil would be damp enough for the flowers to grow upon,
and fertile enough,
for the seeds and our communion, fruits of thoughts
Thereupon, let me choose to stay, or sail away
But with the thought that we know we can weather future storms,
or for the clear skies that follows,
or any other weathers we couldn't fathom.

She’s the girl
That kept on fighting
Despite of the odds
And dimmer lightings

The one who has grown,
Hidden sadness
Behind the smiles
She is burdened.

She’s the girl who’s true
Hiding in plain sight
Shedding new light
When things are never right.

I know the temporary
And I don’t know what’s ahead
For I know I am an absorbing man
Then, off to bed.

I will never get tired
Of our looped talking.
Until you’ve bloomed into a flower
Then you will leave me hanging

Lost in our sweet memories
When we gave each other companies
talking about our future families
While having bread with mayonnaise
Those stupid little baby fightings
And cute midnight dinner lightings
The whole of our crazy datings
Has now become meaningful paintings

I dream of a street I once resided on
An old dwelling, with galvanize fencing
A main street, with poor street lightings
I wake longing to be back there,
I remember the country, but not the heartaches,

Where I use to live and where am I now
Its poetry, it a google map, it history,
How did i get from there to here?

Once again it poetry, it was a drastic move
How i comes and goes in my dream of being there
Not the dwelling, not the whispering of the trees,
Nor the shortage of water, but the freedom of being me..
“Freedom is doing a job that I love. Not because I have to do it, but because I love doing it.” Quote
I just finish watching another Netflix movie.. About families
Unauthorized living: some of the plots could have been better
But, I enjoy the main characters, in comparisons to mine

Daniel was funny, too rich to be happy, too stupid to know how to live
He gives his bodyguards two thousand dollars just to see who **** was bigger,
To stupid to know how to live
Too rich to be happy:
A character like him needs to live on my street,
In that dwelling on the main street, without his daddy’s billions:

Being rich doesn’t stop one from being a *****,
Those sisters proven that in the movie:
A man will always be a dog, with his sniffing,
With my findings, Beautiful women suffers
more than ugly women do..
once in a while allow your mind to take you home
a place where you felt safe. During these ugly times:

Let me call you brother,
Since you treat me like a child.
Look down beside your feet,
Black water streams are running wild.

It’s loud rain, oh brother,
Thank god we ve been sitting under this tree.
Don’t run so fast, let me catch up,
The sky’s so bright with all the lightnings setting themselves free.

The streets are empty, all men are gone,
And we’re the only ones outside, we laugh on our way.
The crossing, all cars wait with red light on their backs,
The restaurants we pass are empty, reflected in the puddles on our way.

You run inside that mall,wait for me enter,
Inside it smells like sea side ruins.
You point to a cafe, we go there, our coats smell like rain.
Oh, don’t you dare, I’ll pay, just help count the coins.

The cafe’s bright, barista smiles as we choose
Two drinks, that do not match.
The rain keeps on, keep up,
You say “ I love the sound”, but you don’t like the wind that much.

The place is empty, but we do not stay,
We roam the mall like it’s a maze.
The loud rain’s a lullaby, but we don’t sleep,
We talk, while lightings try to set it all ablaze.

One day when
the daylight flashed,
I disappeared.
I had to leave my family
and my deep blue behind,
to join the
mass of mist
in the vault of heaven.
My feets were cold
and eyes were
amazed.
I took a long breath
and relaxed,
as I was not lonesome.
Then, clouds thundered
lightings striked
and poured out big
lumps of
rain.
I met dazzling stream
that took me to the home
again.

I have foreseen my Oracle,
In which The Lover displays,
Such a boisterous spear,

And The Priestess rests
On her altar,
To attract new lightings;

Water & air are,
Such a hand,
That grabs a chalice,
To put it
On the right Ark,

And my flesh is,
Like a dancer who
Summons the intermezzo,
Between Dark & Light;

No more nails are spread,
Across the land,
For The Hunter still waits,
To cut off his prey's head;

No more words are lost,
In the twilight,
For the rain does not cry,
To see how plants die;

The Sky is about to pronounce,
His last syllables,
To let us all know,
How a true Balance works.

tiny glitter in the soft sand
you have to look closely,
gaze, watch.....
to see what's at hand.
In this vast open space
what's hanging out there
are willow of the wisps
ghostly lightings in the air.
Off the beaten path,
beckoning you to pursue,
hush, hush, come......
follow the nightly stalkers
into realms you never knew.
Over steep cliffs you're hanging,
down torrents of pouring rain.
Billowing clouds of thunder,
Clash! Bang! Clang!
Black wind is blowing you,
Whooshhhhhhhhh
a **** on a weather vane.
But darkness is not a nemesis!
In fact it's a telepathic portal.
If you open up to it
ah, oh, la, la.....
your spirit shall be immortal!