Life
Iridescent
I met you at the museum. Funny really, because to me you belong here. Up there with the masterpieces. Among the statues which look beautiful
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I met you at the museum. Funny really, because to me you belong here. Up there with the masterpieces. Among the statues which look beautiful
On a journey Without signposts, Is Your unmoved presence, An indication In the causation of a wanderer, How to find azimuth If not
Life is a masquerade, People wear masks Everyday, every week, Every month, every year, Some wear the mask That presented their Deepest, darkest emotions Like
My heart is a pancake, Shared by the poor and homeless And there is a poetic spot, That belongs to the orphans Who are covered
My life is so bright As I am enjoying the moonlight For the moon every night I wait for I know it will come up
As the northern breeze passes by the men in green spurt Through the wild trees, Some in anticipation, Some in trepidation, Striving to attain a
You are the most beautiful girl in the world, Your beauty is measured beyond word. If you doubt me,look into the mirror, And you will
There was an airborne promise, A grounded whisper, Two pinkies intertwined underwater. There were air bubbles struggling, A current sweeping us along like dust, We
On the edge of a lake, A cottage, Nestling among trees, A mere spec from the shore. Some songs un-born, Reside in a grieving heart,
I’ve crossed mountains of lifetimes to find you. I’ve climbed thousand walls Just to be by your side And answer as your lover. Sadly, I’m
The bridge of life is quite long, Ups and downs are something that come along, Every step forward, Is one step closer to win The
We wished to know Each other Like night and spoon. I hear myriad spoons Giggle night after night On prized tables, I hear unbroken sound
I hate you so much that I don’t hate you, Sometimes I try to define your beauty. I watch as the wind hits your nose,
How beautiful would it be, If you remember, That I don’t like milk in my tea. And that my favorite poem Is Donne’s ” The
Looking back in memory, a moment quite sublime, I found within an hourglass, that was meant to mark my time. The top half seemed quite
Buildings blacken like the sky, And hovels their roots beneath The earth, run like fingers to Ghana, Street skirted by masts, narrowed
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Until you let go of what hurts you,
screaming won’t ease the pain.
The day stars new all is peaceful at sun up a fresh strong breath of tree’s The Christmas tree is filled with a thousand memories
The Walls We Build: “There is loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of
I’m skilled at bottling up my feelings but I’ll burst if you shake me. one pull at a loose thread and I come apart at