The Storm

The wind greeted me through the window,

Bringing tidings of the storm to come.

I had prepared myself –

I had taken precautions,

Barred all entry,

Built a wall –

But the wind’s gentle warning

Quickly turned into violent threats.

I fled to a corner,

As far from assault as I could retreat,

But the tumult followed and

Echoed through my mind.

I cried out, defenseless,

As the shrieking of the rain

Pierced my armour,

Every drop a sword, and

Every sword fashioned to the

Humming of the blacksmith

As he hammered his weapon

To perfection.

The shrieking penetrated my ears,

And the reverberations numbed my senses

Until the noise melted into every drop, and

Every drop fell silent.

Then,

As the cloud of silence settled,

And my senses revived,

I heard the mindless humming

Of the blacksmith.

I saw him now, with his eyes shut,

Forging a weapon,

Not knowing what for.

A meticulous design,

To impair was its goal—

But he never considered

Who the victim would be,

And his voice fanned the flames

As the iron ore took shape

To the melody,

Sincere in its deceiving sweetness.

The humming enveloped me

And grew once more into a torrent of noise

That beat me to the ground,

Helpless, though sheltered,

Against the unintended rage

That erupted from a latent summer’s day.

In a moment of weakness,

I had basked in the warmth of

Words dipped in honey,

Spoken from a tongue seeking refuge

From bitter solitude.

It was not long before I knew that day

Would never last,

For even summer’s longest day must surely

Come to an end,

And so I built my wall and convinced myself

I was prepared for battle,

A lie that lay

In the gap between my mind and heart,

And weakened my resolve.

Laboring in denial,

I left a crack in the wall,

Hoping my Pyramus would come to me.

But the deafening sound of reality setting in

Now replaced the soft whispers

That then tickled my ears,

And the wet rain that shattered

Through the nearest window

Made its way to dampen my heart

Once held by his lonely hands.

Every drop drove the point home,

Perforating the edges of my heart

While my mind rode into battle.

My chest gave way

And the sieve bled onto the floor—

My mind retreated,

With nothing left to defend. 

When You're Gone

What was life like before you?

I existed then,

And will exist

When you’re gone.

I’ll go back to the same,

Back to the beginning,

To the start of the game.

I’ll change the players,

I’ll change my mind,

And in a new face,

Salvation I’ll find.

Addicted

To the moment you said my name

When for hours we sat and spoke;

To the laughter in your voice

When you enjoyed your clever joke;

To the walk under the sun,

And the light beaming in your face;

To the world disappearing,

Leaving you in my personal space;

To the words you wrap around my mind,

To your arms around my waist;

To the ocean in your eyes,

To your lips, the way they taste;

To the softness of your heart,

To the strength of your touch;

To the look that fills my soul

And makes my spirit blush—

I’m addicted. 

So We Keep Thinking

It’s 2 a.m. and I’m thinking of you

Thinking of me.

When you close your eyes,

Am I what you see?

Does the early Sun wake you only

To greet the day with a brand new dream?

Do you stare blankly at the blank page,

Wishing to fill it with our warm embrace?

Does the heat rise inside you

And flutter in your chest?

Does your breath fall short

As you fall to catch it,

Praying that I’ll catch you?

Do your fingers trace the silhouette

In your mind

As you search for the words

You can’t seem to find

To call me into being?

Does the Sun set,

And take me with him,

Replacing the heat in your heart

With a bitter cold?

Do you fight for me through

The winter storm?

Do you see through frozen tears?

Do you believe you’ll persevere?

The ice begins to melt

And it’s 2 a.m.

Are you thinking of me

Thinking of you?

If You Could See What I See

Why can’t you see what I see?

That while an ocean separates us in time,

The same sea crashes against each shore

And its tide carries away our peace of mind,

So that each in the other direction we turn,

Praying that the missing piece we will find,

Searching the sky, the ocean and its floor—

But you still don’t know what you’re searching for.

Why can’t you see what I see?

That the answer is contained in a drop,

And if you would reach out your hand

I would fill your cup to the brim,

And I would wade in the shallow waters

By your side, push even deeper,

And in face of any current,

Life would never seem so grim.

Why can’t you see what I see?

That the tide will eventually roll in

And with it at long last solace,

For, knowing what I seek,

I would in an instant seize it,

While you continue to search

From hell unto the stars,

Though no fire could burn bright enough,

For what you seek will no longer be free.

Why can’t you see what I see?

That the briny air has breathed

Hardship into your bones

And the sand has leeched

Your blood,

Drawing the smile from your face

Imprisoning its laughter,
And leaving you, a shell forlorn,

Extinguishing the life in your eyes,

With only darkness to fill its void

And blind you to what I see.

Moments Gone By

It was only yesterday,

You looked at me

With tunnel vision,

Burning embers for eyes.

In the moment, so real,

Your skin against my skin,

You held me to you

With your words.

But we spoke not of tomorrow,

And the flame flickered.

The moment passed,

And tomorrow came.

You stood on the curb,

But I clung to the moment

And it carried me away.

I looked back today and saw a shadow.

All in a Day

How quickly it's fading,

The light of an unexpected reunion

That lit our faces

As we wandered the streets.

I felt your smile

As you squeezed my hand,

Our fingers intertwined,

My soul, ignited.

Lost in your arms,

I reveled in your warmth

As we meandered,

Two children, blissfully ignorant,

Until Time seduced you,

And the day slipped away,

Leaving us blind in the dark

And sober in sweet sorrow. 

Aversion

Light surrounds me as I step onto the street.

My eyes follow the trail –

Quick but cautious in pursuit –

And scintillating warmth courses

Through me before I meet its source.

My eyes are momentarily fixed,

But they can’t hold fast.

Overpowered, my vision falls victim

As my eyelids succumb –

I find myself blinded and dumb.

I stumble backward and

Trip over my tongue

While the Sun discharges its rays,

Igniting warmth fast into fire;

The flames inside grow higher,

Licking against my soul,

Beating against my battered heart.

I dare not raise my head again

For fear I will soon combust

Under the merciless rockets’ thrust.

I struggle against the explosives

That are burning inside me

And melting my core,

To cool my senses and regain my sight,

But I know the Sun will win this fight –

For even when the Sun will set,

Its light will remain hidden

In the shadows of my heart,

Burning any reason, all reason is lost,

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Skipped a Beat

I dropped the rhythm,
I missed the beat,
I fumbled the sticks,
Succumbed to the heat.

The music continued,
But I fell behind,
The walls went blank
Inside my mind.

Lyrics, they failed me,
My lips, they were numb.
Your lips were my poison,
But you continued to strum

Even when my body froze,
Fell flat to the ground,
The melody, it soared,
Its harmony was sound.

I cried through the music,
Prayed, give ear to my plight,
Beat the sticks on my heart,
Lead me back to the light.

It vibrates through me,
I can feel it, your song,
I can feel my heart racing,
I’ll awake before long.

In the music I see you,
Through the lyrics I hear you,
And when all hope is lost,
Your voice shines through.

Familiar Spaces

I’ve been here before,

I’ve walked through that door,

Found a corner to hide,

I’ve sat there and cried.

I’ve looked in those eyes,

Tried to cut all the ties,

But, bound by your might,

It was useless to fight.

I’ve lost and I’ve lost,

My heart’s paid the cost,

Broken and bound,

My soul weighed to the ground.

With a word, you caught me,

With silence, you shot me,

And in between – life was a haze

Every time that I met your gaze.

Astray

Your eyes were stars dancing upon the moon,

Igniting my world aflame with

Their song.

Laughter leaped across your face –

Beholden to none other than the Sky above –

And melted the furrow upon my brow.

The heat of your palms

Caressed my skin,

And my hands were suddenly at home.

A vision in darkness

You started my day,

A dream to be reckoned with,

A love to replay.

I lived off your laughter,

I danced to your song,

And when the world collapsed beneath me,

I survived by your embrace –

But, alas, the Sirens’ song persevered,

A melody that silenced your own,

And soon my home was lost at sea

As gravity lured my world away –

Over the edge, I could no longer see,

Your light was extinguished,

And in darkness I stray. 

The Unknown

How often do we fear

What we do not know?

We cringe and retreat

At the rank smell of

Something new,

Rather than toil

And sweat to uncover

Its sweet perfume.

We shut our eyes

To all novelty,

And breathe in

The stale air of

Familiarity

That weighs on us,

Immobilizing our limbs

And paralyzing our minds.

As fear courses through

Your veins,

Your heart is torn between

Ease and uncertainty.

Your soul yearns to

Hearken to the Unknown,

But your body lies still

In a Peace that comes easily.

But a Greater Peace awaits

Through unchartered territory –

So trample your fear

On the trodden path.

If you cast aside the burdens

Of comfort

And reach for my hand,

I will give you my light

I will show you the way.

Moonlight, Daylight

The Sky was bright

As I walked along the quai.

I could hear the waves

Carrying the clouds away,

And I looked up to see

The clear blue expanse

Harboured the Moon above.

The Moon was always there,

Though oft invisible to eyes

Blinded by pageantry.

The Sun ablaze

Burned decadence

In our minds.

Pupils dilated,

We searched

Among its rays

For fleeting passion,

A moment of heat.

As the Sun drew away,

We followed it,

Our vision, blurred –

So that,

Even if we could see it,

The Moon looked cold,

A face, hardened,

A sign that night would fall.

The Moon was distant,

Disguised in grey,

Hushed, and

Patiently waiting –

Waiting for the Sky

To breathe,

Waiting for the Sun

To set,

Waiting for the dark

To rise.

And in that moment,

Stripped of disguise,

Returning its grey cloak

To the Sky,

The Moon would reclaim

Its place,

A harbinger of light,

Clearing our vision

In the cool of the night.

Slip of the Tongue

The scene was set.

It was perfect.

You were perfect.

Words flowed from your lips

Like a well-rehearsed script.

You needed no direction-

The master himself was at work.

I tried to follow suit,

But my verses were misaligned,

My rhythm, off-beat.

My words slipped onto the floor

And I watched Time sweep

Them away –

There could be no retraction.

Anxious now,

I tried to squeeze

Volumes through my eyes,

Certain that they reflected

The stars in your face.

I hoped that

Despite my awkward tongue,

You would understand,

That you would see

How I felt

Each time you smiled at me.

A Coin for Charon

At the river’s edge,

I sought you out,

Charon.

Once a myth,

I found you true

In the deathly mist.

I was ready

To pay the toll,

To ride your ferry

Away from this purgatory.

But alas, my obolus

I had left behind.

I searched for a coin,

But neither silver nor gold

Did I find.

My soul, in anguish,

It wished to be free.

I pleaded that you have

Mercy on me.

Your eyes were coal,

They scorched my mind

Until in a blinded haze,

The answer I saw.

My heart.

I offered it now,

And you took it,

With your withered hands,

As it burned with

Innocent blood,

And passion

It wept onto

The dock as I left.

My tears flowed with the river

As you rowed me away,

For I knew,

Once on the other side,

You would not stay.

Untitled- on the shooting at the Batman film

I couldn’t see your face,

But I could tell your eyes were empty

As you turned and pointed at me.

You didn’t know me.

I was a good girl.

I had done right by my parents,

Done right by God,

Done right by me.

I was smart,

I could be stupid,

I was strong,

I could be sensitive,

I was passionate,

I could pretend to be indifferent,

But mostly,

I loved.

So why me?

I didn’t have time to ask

As I felt the metal pierce my skin.

I closed my eyes and shed a tear.

One for my mother-

No one would know a greater sorrow.

Another came for my father

Whose rage would turn his world

Upside-down.

Another after that for my sister,

Who would wish it had been her.

And a last one, for you,

Because although my fate was tragic,

Yours would be far worse.

I was a good friend.

I could have been yours.

Electric Chair

The room is dark

And the air around me is musty.

Seated,

I feel wood beneath me

Forcing my body to conform.

Discomfort sets in as my wrists

Struggle against iron shackles.

I cry for help,

But my tongue is tied.

My eyes search the room,

If it is a room,

For sign of life.

My fingers stretch

Beyond their strength,

Reaching for something,

Anything.

I hear a footstep –

I peer into the darkness

With all my might.

I hear your voice,

A Siren’s call.

Every one of my muscles twitches

To the sound,

Every molecule in my body

Bends and twists.

I hear a switch,

A signal sound,

And the molecules split,

The atoms race.

A light flashes.

I see you,

Holding my life

In your hands,

And then I’m gone.

Bolts and Jolts

The Sky lit up,

And for half a second

There was Hope.

But the Sky closed

Her eyes

And let loose her tears.

The storm raged on

And the light flickered.

Every drop bled into me

Until I was no longer myself.

I surrendered to her.

I was drenched with Fury,

Fast losing Hope to blindness.

Darkness took over and

I staggered around the walls

In my mind,

Bumping into corners,

Lost in a labyrinth of

Self-pity, of self-doubt,

Bereft of vision,

Bereft of discernment.

As my skin inhaled each drop,

Paranoia tingled through

My pores.

The Shadows that had strangled Hope

Had come to hunt me.

I stopped.

I hid.

I waited.

I waited for the Sky

To open her eyes,

To light up,

If not with Hope,

Then with Fear.

I waited.

She opened.

They came.

I attacked. 

Kryptonite

Your face was kind,

Your lips, sweet,

But your eyes,

They were merciless.

Against such kryptonite

I was helpless;

They disarmed me.

They burned through

My thoughts

And blurred my vision,

Shot bullets

That riddled my body

And left me still.

Paralyzed,

I tried to cry out,

But my lips

Obeyed a new master.

Jump

Jump,

You gently entreated.

I had already jumped,

But this time, I looked down.

My heart pumped fear to my mind,

And it seized me.

My thoughts were infected with self-doubt,

And I struggled between your voice

And the one in my head,

Between my body

And my conflicted mind.

I stumbled backward

As doubt darkened

The light you had thrown

Across my path.

I felt the ground beneath my feet,

Hardened by familiarity.

Fear dissipated, and

Blood rushed to my heart,

Bringing with it the heat of your words.

And the only voice left in my head

Was yours.

Jump.

The Sun will Rise Again

You tell me not to worry,

To smile, be happy,

Even when the skies are grey

And you’ve gone away.

You tell me to have faith,

To stand up, be brave,

Even under April’s rain

That stopped, only to pour again.

You tell me to be patient and wise,

To wait for the Sun to rise,

Because when his rays shine,

You’ll be back, you’ll be mine.

And so, under the darkened sky,

When my tears began to dry,

I sought solace in another light,

In the stars you left me in the night.

Doubt at the End of the Tunnel

They told me

There was light

At the end of the tunnel.

But they did not tell me

Where the light would lead.

Blindly I walked,

My fingers grasping at the wall,

Trying to find my way.

They did not tell me

That the tunnel split in three.

I took a guess.

I closed my eyes.

I could almost see the light.

“Up or down?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you going up or down?”

I’ll go wherever this thing takes me.

East or West

She stood at a crossroads

Split between East and West,

While the setting Sun made way

For the Stars at the Moon’s behest.

But the North Star would not help

Her decide which way to go,

So she stood there waiting

For Napoleon, waiting for Godot.

The night she spent on the dusty path,

Torn in self-contemplation,

Striving to discern through the darkened night,

Which road would lead to her soul’s exaltation.

But neither Napoleon emerged,

Nor messenger appeared,

And so she was left to her own judgment,

As she had always feared.

To the East, she thought,

She would face the light,

And leave the unknown darkness

Behind in the night.

Thus, when he rose,

She walked toward the Sun,

Not knowing the next day

Rode westward her Napoleon.

Comme l'Albatros (Like the Albatross)

Comme les ailes d’un aigle,
Son coeur bat,
Elevant son esprit
Aux cieux,
Tandis que, lui,
Maladroit comme l’albatros,
Il est empêché par la peur. 

Once in your Lifetime

I brought you flowers one day.
Small and fragile they were,
But a scent as luscious
As the locks upon your head
Diffused from their lips
As each one whispered to you
The secret of my cares.
Every crease upon my brow
That developed in your absence
Disappeared when you were near.
Every tendon spasmed
As your gaze pierced my bone.
But my cares you did not guard,
And their petals began to fall
Until you threw them all away.

And then, you saw I had been brave
When, years later,
You reflected on my sacrifice,
The open-wound
I faced to the sky where you stood,
Supremely distant.
Offering no balm,
You had showered acid rain,
And the rain from your memories
Turned into tears trickling down
The creased brow upon
Your trodden face.
And this time, you brought me flowers—
But you laid them on my grave.

Covered

On the bookshelf lies
A tightly bound book
With leather trim,
Prim and proper,
No pages bent out of shape,
Though old and faded—
Your gaze she both attracts and repels.
Barely used but aged,
She sits, waiting to be opened
One last time.

She tells a story of adventure,
Of risk, that stimulates the mind,
Body and soul,
A passionate tale,
Filled with both humor and pain,
Of purity, of desire,
Of loss and gain,
Echoing laughter,
Stained with tears.
Candor prefaces the pages
Dedicated to eternal beauty
Waiting to be unveiled.
Each metaphor challenges
The potential reader,
But should he uncover the meaning
In the literary ocean,
Our hero will reach the truth
Hidden in its depths.

However, none of this you know,
Because, before removing the book
Completely from the shelf,
You replace her,
And your fingers continue
To a softer neighbor—
One that has more oft been used.

She sneezes in the shifting dust and thinks:
If only you knew,
You would never have put me back down.

In Their Eyes

In her eyes, I see
The latent power
Of a winter’s tree,
Its branches preparing to flower
Come the breath of Spring.

But, in his eyes, I am withered, weak,
Rough bark, no leaves,
I have passed my peak,
No more tricks up my sleeves,
Nothing worth a fling.

My roots, he’ll abuse,
For they’ve already turned gray,
My wood, he will use
For a cold winter’s day,
My insipid persistence, he’ll be deploring.

In the Stars, my fate I see,
My wood burning slow,
The wind blowing free,
The flames lying low,
And my ashes, they are rising.

Snowflake Paralysis

A single snowflake kissed my cheek
As it landed and melted into oblivion,
Transforming into a miniature puddle
On my bare skin.
Sin proper burial,
The snowflake’s remains solidified,
And, aided and abetted by the wind,
Stung me to my very core.
Through the howling,
I heard your voice—
The ghost of your shadow
Haunted me yet,
A reminder of unfinished business.
The eerie solitude evoked
Tears of possibilities,
And they, too, were frozen
At the hand of improbabilities.
Distant from the warmth of thought,
My extremities began to numb,
But the fire at the centre of my being,
Though dwindle it might, would never die,
For it was self-sustaining.

I was left in a precarious state,
Mind, body and soul in stale-mate—
I had no power to beat the frost,
Nor the memories I wished lost.

Bottom of the Pool

The chlorinated water splashed ever so slightly
When I jumped in, leaving my entrance unnoticed.
As my toes sank to the ground,
I opened my eyes and extended my arms,
Lifting the water above my head,
Just as I had been taught.
I managed to cross my legs and have a seat.
A fixture, I remained steady,
Bubbles strategically escaping my lips.
I watched as limbs of various shapes, shades and sizes
Gradually disappeared.
So gradually, that it was sometime before
I noticed the pool was empty.
When I finally realized I was alone,
I closed my eyes,
For I had nothing left to exhale.

The Whistle-Blower

She could hear him still, across the tracks,
Singing his sweet song of goodbye.
Her voice joined his for the final refrain,
And he looked at her, a meaningful gaze
That diffused through the silent air
And intoxicated her with its sweet perfume.
However, in a daze, she could not discern its meaning.
His eyes conveyed the sadness of farewell, no doubt,
But perhaps, as well, a secret regret
Yet on its meaning, she would not dwell,
For perhaps it was naught but wishful thinking.
She smiled, instead, and clung to the vision
That had breathed life into her being,
Anticipating the moment she would be torn
Asunder and forced to face a starless sky.
A rumbling followed by
A quick exchange of longing looks
Was interrupted by two distinct whistles
And a cloud of steam.
She took a seat by the window
And looked out over the divide,
Feigning to ignore the lovers
And relations that embraced goodbye.
He placed his fist against the glass
And fixed his starry gaze on her.
At last, before his neck could sprain,
She smiled a nostalgic smile and turned away,
But the darkness of the tunnel soon quenched her thoughts.
She looked up and there was the sky,
Black, and not a star in sight.

Bubble-Wrap

Some people build walls to protect their hearts

From attack.

But the problem with walls is that

You can’t hear through them,

So you don’t know when the assailant

Is on the other side,

Preparing to strike.

And we all know

Walls fall down.

Bridges burn—

And walls crumble.

So next time you decide to build a protective barrier,

Use bubble-wrap.

That way, you can see through it,

And you will hear the sound of

Any assailant attempting to pop through,

Leaving you time to prepare.

And if the purported assailant

Turns out to be both conqueror and savior,

Well, then

You will have made it a little easier to be saved.  

Opening Doors

Doors close easily.

What is hard is to open

A door that is closed.

They say when one door closes,

Another opens.

But there is not always an automatic

Sensor.

Sometimes, we have to open the door ourselves.

But the uncertainty of what awaits us on the other side

Forces us to pause, at times step back,

Other times, run the hell away.

Sometimes, the door is sliding glass.

How grateful we are when we see what we get—

Yet sometimes, we forget that we have to slide the door open,

And we walk straight into the glass,

Ending up with a bump,

Losing our balance,

Wondering what happened- we had been so close,

What we wanted had been just within reach.

Other times, the door is revolving.

We walk through it,

But we end up right back where we started.

And yet other times, the door is opaque.

I opened such a door once,

And everything on the other side came crashing down.

So how do we find the courage to open a door?

We remember that if we do not reach out to turn the handle,

Push the button or slide the glass,

We will be forced to move backwards or remain stagnant,

And will deprive ourselves of the chance to move forward,

To grow, to live.  

Knowing Smile

I smile to myself,

Thinking.

Guessing.

Knowing.

I speculated,

I made excuses.

And,

When I grew tired,

Impatient,

I removed the veil

From my heart.

I ceased to ignore.

I embraced the truth.

I forgave,

I forgot.

Now,

I smile to myself,

I make you think.

I make you guess.

But,

Your eyes remain closed,

And my truth,

You will never know.

Le Fleuve

Jadis, elle tenait fort aux mots

Qui glissaient de ses lèvres à lui,

Qui offraient à elle

Tout ce qu’elle désirait,

Qu’elle croyait la vérité.

L’étincelle de ses yeux

Couvrait toute fausseté,

Permettant au fleuve de promesses

D’exciter une âme entravée

Par un naïf espoir.

Pourtant, la marée a changé—

Le fleuve, maintenant,

Débordait de larmes de vive déception.

L’espoir qui, autrefois, aurait rejailli

N’était que le prisonnier de l’expérience.

Writer's Block

I want to start –

I just don’t know where.

I ask for patience

And wait for the clouds

To clear and

Leave room in the sky

For stars.

Quickly, they multiply,

A constellation takes shape,

But connect the dots, I can’t,

And, somewhere,

All meaning is lost.

I close my eyes and

Search through the corners

Of my mind,

I open every door and

Walk past fear –

I even encounter pride,

But shut her out –

Until I find it,

A memory.

I reach for it,

And hold on tight,

Until my hand begins

To trace it with my pen.

But the image, it changes

When paper it meets,

For time has altered

My perception.

But the past is the past,

And it can’t be changed,

So the paper, I discard,

And back to the start

I go...

This time,

I keep my eyes open,

No matter how long

I have to wait.

Risk It

Know what you want,

Say what you want,

And work for what you want—

Then, if it’s meant to be,

You’ll get what you want.

Speak every word – and act every act –  

With purpose.

Don't assume, ask,

And never let fear get in your way.

Manage your risk,

But risk nonetheless,

And most of all,

Risk love.

Open your heart

To Love,

To Love staying,

To Love leaving,

To Love coming back. 

Speak Your Heart

You didn’t try hard enough,

You simply mused.

You mused over her,

Over your temporary muse,

But let her get away without a fight—

You didn’t see the use.

You didn’t see

That you weighed on her mind,

That under your weight,

She waited.

She waited, in silence,

For you to lead the way,

But you, too, stayed silent,

Not knowing what to say.

Not knowing what answer

She would give in return,

The question, you veiled,

The truth, you would never learn.

The truth: she would have set you free,

If only you had tried,

Despite the fear

That you might fall—

A shot in the dark

Is better than no shot at all.

Swinging

I swung from the branch,

Holding fast to the rope.

We swayed together,

Back and forth,

Cradled in the shelter

Of the leaves above.

I knew that I should let go,

I knew that I would have to take the plunge.

But I was bound to the rope—

We were intertwined—

And I knew that were I to let go,

The rope would fall.

Slowly, we swayed, and

Slowly, my fingers untangled...

As the water carried me away,

I glanced back and

Saw the rope,

Still hanging.

The Artist

Inconspicuously, he sits,

Sketching her life

With his generous hand.

Drawing from the depths

Of his weakened memory,

His fingers stumble upon

A forgotten laugh.

He strains to hear the sound

Of a joy he once caused,

To see the lines

Of a love he once lost.

The clouds rolled through his mind

And, just before nostalgia

Could seize his hand,

Revealed the sun.

Clarity ignited him

As his pen tirelessly

Translated vision into truth

Frozen in time.

She caressed him with her gaze—

He was young again.

Wave Watching

The tide roars as it roles in.

Seemingly merciless,

It hunts everything in its path.

The foam stretches,

Racing after the unsuspecting sand,

Ensaring every particle in its claws.

The tide retreats,

Purging the shore of its empty shells,

Leaving behind the wet sand—

Stronger—

Ready to face another day.

Power of Speech

A sensitive child,

Armed with a battle song,

You stick out your tongue,

And, naïve as you are, 

Repeat the lyrical lie

You've been taught:

“Sticks and stones

May break my bones

But words will never hurt me.”

Ironic, is it not?

They shielded you with words meant to guard

Against what, if not words that harm?

A worldly adult,

You know that muscle can break

And that words can cut

Deeper than the sharpest knife.

They penetrate the surface of your skin

And bruise.

Words may be invisible,

But they have the power to infiltrate

Even the strongest of minds,

And those words whose natures are destructive

Can and will breed doubt.

But, words may be angelic  

And as such can also soothe—

A balm for the wounded,

A carrier of hope.

So choose your words wisely,

Let their impression be sweet,

A key to the heart

Of the next stranger you meet.