Tuesday, February 24, 2015


The tree sparrow bows 
in sublime patience  
as the weary moon offers
deafening silence 

Another long night comes 
in secret hollow 
I bleed the same seasoned bruise
mist begets sorrow   

Sometimes when night falls 
in fragmented tide
I let the turns consume me
shying my strong side 

Deep down words doze off 
in polite sequence
I puff the lingering blues 
popping quintessence.

Oh the night still young 
in shaking fingers 
I pick a stone to throw
where the imp lingers 

Could it be possible 
in fading hate 
I will find signs from the cracks 
or is it quite late?

Humans get run-down
in foiled trials 
I have tasted hell on earth, 
guess it's normal.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

The Whispering Bole

I know that moment
when my fingers pressed
against the cracked lines
your history unleashed
and so was mine.

The moment when I stood
in silence beside you
our spirits talked
and a wish passed my lips
on this barren sidewalk.

The beauty of silken tears
fallen in the same rhythm
connecting two crushed hearts
saving pieces of broken promises
a biting section of organic arts.

Smiles fabricated in hope
sprung as the breeze blew
solidarity can turn the lonely
darkness from the inside out
at times only nature has remedy.

Friday, February 13, 2015

Innocence I see

I strayed to the garden
Oh wonders did I see
The blooming sunflowers
smiling splendidly

To the sound of the chirping birds
I caught the daisies dance,
what beauty to lay eyes on
under the perfect midday sun

There I strayed with open eyes
every step behest my heart
to stop and stare and feel the pulse
of nature's loving art

What should I do, what could I do
the orchids were bewitching
they flourished in peculiar colors
but smite you just the same

I sought to catch the busy bee
that flew from rose to marigold
but then again I took pleasure in
the darling dhalia and carnation red

They seemed to read what was on my mind
So I sat beside the pink primrose.
And at that moment I was blown away
by the innocence in nature's prose.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

The Final Dance

Said the hopeless cat to the moon,
"Take me to the grave of the night
for I shall not live."

It's unfathomable hunt
for the naked truth
steering forth
a cutting-edge phase
of a more hollow chapter

...in that which is said, is often forgotten...
along the pallid beams of the moon, fresh tears drop
with a consoling song to immerse upon
she laid it's worn out self...

for what had been said, she'd never forgotten
it is locked...hidden within

waiting to be set forth
to the unjustifiable unknown

for the vast hollow to swallow it...

In the vortex of life,
after the winter,
there comes the spring
it sprang with hope;
glistening in utter lust...

she breathed in analytical tranquility...

restored and coated,
settled in grace ,
tossed yet surviving;
the fetish Cat sleeps in fur.

In the split second
where FEAR


she pursues the journey
to find the answer
staking her being
on the line

A warrior
clothed in jubilance
mouthing in radiance
the Destiny
is now near-at-hand

she gingerly speaks
its purr, shudders the moon
in lush...

take me to the grave of the night
play the canticle
take a chance

I'll take the final dance.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

False Expectations

If only I caught you
oh vivid rays of sunrise
then an unquestionably gladness
would dance upon my eyes

Within the wave of ballads
I'm hunting authenticity
I've learned: not all roses can sing
rather, some hum in perfect hypocrisy

The fractured path of yesterday
I wish I'd never been
the forlorn lane of faux promises
made me forget how happy I had been.

Some of them think religiously
the proper essence of self-worth
is the summation of their fabricated beauty
plus their unmerited towering net worth

Lucky are some roses on natural soil
no toxin has poison their minds
unlike some that are watered by money
fanatics of lies...color-blind.

Some roses are not roses in winter
only a camouflage of soiled beauty
a plague killing high hopes
a friendship of treachery

If only I'd caught you earlier
oh glossy rays of sunrise
then surely no pieces of broken trust
would reflect upon my eyes.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

The Healing (Flu 4)

This harmony she hears
cradles her soul from the grave
to an unending stream of calmness
Her smile grows wider as the tune plays on
'Drown me in your soothing refrain',she says
Being swathed by this melody
only heaven knows no bounds
'an exemplary Wednesday afternoon'
She thought...
Head buried on tender pillow,
she shut her lids to slumber
Her heart melted in contrast of ardency on flame;
an aura of sanctifying bliss...
while the angelic tune goes on and on.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

The Curse of Winter ( FLU 3)

The burning candle
canvas of anemic images
can be seen by these ailing eyes

Streams of cosmic meddling 
gyrating spectrum of phantasm 
reliving pieces 
zoetic in dynamic prelude 
a decrepit's vanilla brain bonk...

Troops of quietude
tried to mingle with multicolored lights
emitted from the Christmas tree
tormenting this earsplitting silence...

Sentiments never bail out these sickish lips 

take this bug in me 
this bug eclipses in hell's cloak 
impaling the weeks gone passed 
I hate the decrepitude it created
my prime pleasure killer 

As the burning candle weep 
melted flames infusing my arteries 
canvas of anemic images 
can be seen by this ailing eyes 
a distant decrepit...i become...

Don't finish me yet
i'm not well rehearsed for my funeral
repulsive submarine
my imminent low...

before, the crisp winter wind blew me
each blow teeming with toxic spell
each breath...each flutter...
paradisiac...flawless drown.

Who would thought i'd breathe the wicked poison
out of mother nature's breath?

Was it your fault...
Was it mine...
Was it...the totality?

As the burning candle continued to weep
I lit the lemon grass incense
hoping the healing aroma
could ease the befuddling inside me

my eyelids half close
and again I submerge to the torrents of my favorite songs
leaving all questions to the unknown.