Listen, it's a beautiful thing
when distilled to its essence;
reduced to its purest form.
A paradox and a paradigm;
a paragon of perfection.
Epic in its arythmetic
progression; poetic.
Like Chinese arithmetic,
so hard it hurts. Yet soft
and exquisite, like a bubble
of love caught in a beating heart.
That place where poetry starts.

she likes a little bitterness in her food
a little hunger in her kisses
a little sweetness in her tears
a little irony in her wishes

give her flowers in the street
and post Novembers on her walls
write her playlists to sleep to
and run with her when rain falls

walk the long road with her
as cruel as it may be
she will warm you to her very last--
if you would share her story.

We both were on our sides,
  I threw the top of my leg over his hip.
suddenly, poetry comes alive
what an amazing stand-up routine:

*** , love and poetry are powerful things.
due to the love of the art,
Some adjectives do come after the verbs.
sigh!

Sometimes when we touch
The honesty too much, Dan Hill
Honest and sympathetic approach
to this ongoing question
Do I or do you still love them?

I remember when I said
I love Him, for me, the words came out so easily
that glowing blush, that healthy  warm feeling,

Now our love stand still like
The curtain on my window sill
So decorative, those simple details

Come hell or high waters
It's my love for him, it’s changing,
My words seem so cold, so bold,
Oh! my dear, Oh my love

Sometimes when we touch
The honesty too much;*
Thank you so much Dan Hill
Now everything is so clear in my heart

It’s your time to shine:  my youth is fading
My words, my voice might be erased
Nevertheless, there’s one more lesson to be told my child
  Take life slow, live, breathe and learn.
Night comes and the day comes. And there you are alone
Night owls never stay faithful

Weightlessly
Whole-heartedly
Dripping emotions
Eloquently evoking
Subtly stating art
Gracing gifts


           Beauty
   And            bliss
In                   every
Big breath bringing
Life                       on
The                    floor


Pure                        in
­Passion                   of
Existence expanding
As                  eternity
Is                        lived
Out                     loud


         When the
  Music         swells
And
The                    
   Beat           grows
          Stronger    


The world fades into
The
Movement
That
Seizes
Silently tells a story