I climb the corridors of stars


20

I’ve felt the sunstone on my face
from rivers of ancient poetry
tall architecture of cold stone
the calming course of time that runs
full circle, like an enchanted realm
of a single presence surging the waves
the trees how they move in the wind
and crystal fields of butterflies
fragments of mineral, oxygen, pollen, fruit
I travel the body of nature, the only
body or soul I have ever known
beneath a yellow star, haunted
by the beauty of our parallel rites
the reign of spring green that knows
no decline, the synergy of oracles
that chant in the night, or how
the hummingbird burns, for the flames
past the altar, over the dreams
where a skirt of pure water waits
on the lap of the last sunstones
diamonds, rubies, emeralds
until I travel the length of rivers
back to my home, transported
from water to water, light to light
star to star, forever healed where all
is revealed, in mountains, in forests
in the stillness of a single total being.

Touch


19

My hands
Serenade your cheeks with a lifetime
Of devotion that never wavered
Saving each other, we were touched
Immortally, like souls the same
Frequency, my hands
Opening the curtains of your secrecy
Like butter, to cloud your nudity with
Cooling rain, your lips with
The kisses that we invent to sanction
Our years together, which drip
With the water of our mortality
Our bodies are spiritual vessels
There is no doubt, our faith
Invested marriage for working together
Each hour we spent on each other
Came back in ways we couldn’t even imagine.

Freedom


18

The architecture of silence stretches
across whispers of escaped souls
I get up blindly to pray for internal rapture

in the blood-brain barrier
everything is dark, there is no exit
only the variables of lives and lifetimes
the routines of existence slowly
debating semantics, labels, information

processing, an endless churning
of how to become more intelligent collectively
the architecture of water is this

that life perpetuates itself and evolves
so slowly as to be nearly imperceptible
how long will it take the streets
to lead to the stars, for the cities to hover
under water in the depths of oceans?

we’ll have to see how the mechanical birds
how they find beings just like us
or how artificial intelligence may be

our descendants, our ways seems so
cruel and old and painfully repetitive.

Forever Arriving


The world changes
While we are stuck
Looking at each other
Lost in a sympathy of meeting

If two look out into space together
Are they then transported
As far as eyes have seen?
In some bright blindness of the stars?

To love is it to undress our names
To no longer be people but
Purely, male and female
Two mirrors of forms

Drunk in the plaza of biology
To turn eternity into empty hours
Ferocious memories of being a couple
Minutes in beloved prisons
That’s how the world changes.

Descendant Divinity


17

Time with no help from us
Has placed you exactly where
You need to be, for no two moments

Are ever alike, or have the same quality
Of yesterday or tomorrow, today is
The silence on the snow
A visitor in your mind
Of alien truths that are not so foreign

ii

Space is a sleeping woman
Full of luxuries and stars
Love is the wandering pollen

That is invented day after day
We are all like nomads half sleeping
That haven’t quite accepted
Their place in the design
The story that is like a shared myth

iii

A narrative until the world ends
But worlds are born and die every day
Invisible to our eyes, but our hearts

Are spread thin like the darkness of history
The history that is the future
And the love that is simultaneously
All our ancestors, and all our descendants.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Mermaid-480032374

Screen Shot 09-05-14 at 07.39 PM

Celebration


Waltz of the polar lights

Listen to me as I listen to the rain
Listen to me as one listens to the footsteps
Of the sun outshining other suns
Without listening or looking but being

With eyes open inward, at divinity
Where divinity is everywhere
And nature is a dynasty of divine everything
With all five senses awake and

Crown and thunder and golden bird
Magically in tune with the inner language
Of empathy and pure identification
That I am you and you are a part of me

A light footstep of syllables that never ends
One continuous language, one love transferring life
From body to body, time to time
Until air and water, words and matter

All live on like this moment of memory
With somebody remembering what was once
But a clamour of history, a spark at the edge
Of a universe, teaming with so many forms of life.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Waltz-of-the-Polar-Lights-479973951

Like a reminder of this life


15

It doesn’t matter if
I was madly mistaken in
How I chose to live my life
It was up to me, how to spend

My lovely time, my uncontrolled
Passion for a life that reminded me
To find a sense of daring
In what I did and gladly exchange

The years for songs, the people
For art, the relationships, for memories
It never ended till the day I died
It was all, a kind of memento

Of my very own tour de force
Free-will has its perks, fate has its
Plays, circumstance is mutable
And because I was madly mistaken

I had a chance to exist simultaneously
In many ways, in alternate dimensions
With the ability to transcend the facts
And the serendipity to accept

The consequences, like a cascade of
Sunsets spread on foreign evenings
Or sap spilling from exotic tree-trunks
Or oceans gasping for the bowing Moon

It doesn’t matter if
I was madly mistaken
I had a chance to be myself.

So much depends


14

So much depends upon
The open sky cut open by the trees
By the rain by the lives that we led

Upside down we stood as if for years
Waiting to become the person
We were meant to be
On the back trails of our open heart
So much depends upon

Listening to Bach in the dark
How poets undressed our sympathy
In clothes of the absolute

So much depends upon
The sound of Mandarin like
Circumstance, and stillness that never dies
These were the cries that we reached
Out for, as if we could grasp the light

So much depends upon
The dreaming of what is possible
And prowling around the people
Whom we let hurt us in order to
Learn more completely how to feel.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-Two-Sisters-479364324

The soul has a time-ridiculing roar


13

The soul is as an unseen Swan
Drifting down the black river
With only stars to stream the light across

And only light to make the river
Seem more bright, a perfect commotion
Of silk, snow, lilies, the flexibility of matter
Creation, the soul feels no bondage
With an armful of white blossoms

I’m sure the soul smiles even when
We appear to be at our worst
Down and out and suffering

As if there were no tomorrow
The soul sways and is partially hidden
It known no dark music, only stretching
Down the river like a waterfall
Discovering something for the

Inner evolution of form and whistling
The background music of everything
Quantum variables speaking new languages

The soul listens for the bulb of love
As rain pelting the tops of trees
And clouds over the river in a season
That is between seasons, for which
There are far too few names

The soul is an onlooker of the most mischievous
Parodies, smiling at the drama of last week
Piloting dreams for learning situations

Laughing at the calendar whose touch
Is bleak weather, irony of shaded routines
Patron, portion, logistic of the mother-instinct
In us all, the soul doesn’t find necessity hard at all
There is no bottom to the soul, it catches us on the other end.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Swan-199231681

Poetry that Floats


SONY DSC

The spirit, my spirit
Likes to dress in poems
I don’t know ten languages

I don’t know how to rhyme
I only care for the cadence
Of sunrise, of airy matter

Of dreams of lime and appetites
Mystical, metaphors for
The future of mind, the home

Where I reside is an art form
A sadhana of process
A pure light of beauty that burns

Silver to gold to shaded sun
In the blue infinity of my inner world
The spirit, my spirit

Likes it very much
Why don’t you come and float
Awhile? Since we are creators

Entering matter with spiritual intent
Keeping the holiness of the body
Like a star, warm and life-affirming.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Peacock-03-478274993

Morning Song


Art Courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Nature-s-Embrace-478706780

11

Every morning
The world is created &
I am a new person

Purified by the tips of orange
Alive with sticks of the sun
Patting me, caressing me
Aching in me to be somebody new
And summer pushes me enlightening

My spirit in phases of existence
For hours I am drunk in
The possibilities of who I could be

But the day has its plan for me
As I submit to the light everywhere
I can feel it secretly working in me
Every morning
I awake to a harmony

That is lighter than snow
More wise than the sound
Of migrating birds, more deep

Than the green that always returns
And my prayers are no longer
Loud, but a part of the silence
From which all prayers come and go
Every morning

The world is created &
I am a new person
With the ashes of night

Sparkling in my chest
Like the reminder of past lifetimes
And in my soul I carry
Thorns like jewels
And it has become my nature

To be happy, to share it
To gift it as if soft trails
Of happiness existed everywhere.

Exiled in the love of an evolving world


Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Ania-479072594

10

Searching my heart for its true joy
This is the thing I find to be:
That I am not weary of time, though

It moves too quickly, and words and people
Drown out my own sorrow, this world
Deserves more than my self-interest
The salty sweetness of pleasure grows old
But helping others, that peace never ends

I found the small moments of empathy
In my days, the best, the cherishing of others
A more luminous goal than self-satisfaction

And now I am caught by the suffering of others
Not in a bad way, but in a collective-realism
That I too, had it easier than others
That I too, was born more fortunate
And thus to serve others may be the only way
For me to ever understand humanity.

Migration in a summer of lovely language


Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Brinkburn-Priory-478920570

9

These words have survived separations
Faces I can no longer remember of loved ones
Poetry has transcended my decades

Spacious and fluent like a last reminder
Of why truth is no longer as important
As beauty, inner beauty of a spiritual quality
Alphabets now shelter this candle
This life that was my hopes and dreams

These most intimate self-deceptions
Wildest faith of wonderful illusions
For a moment still I am there

With moons and roses, aware of nothing
But the shine of creativity on our inner cheek
The mineral blossoms and lotus of our imagination
It’s pure there to write like drunken water
In a light of its own color, reflecting the pauses

Silences, spaces in-between relationships and solitude
That was the best quality of the life I lived.

Something to be Learned


8

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Estella-472873000

Wonder where the hard years went

Up and down and lost like blood and sweat

The monumental dramas have all but disappeared

For maybe love and peace

Can win the day, yet again

I passed a bridge, calling maturity

I broke into a dive, of self-acceptance

It wasn’t a matter of effort

I think it’s a function of

Synaptic pruning, lost memories

All the grown-up people say

The wine from these grapes

Tastes sweeter now, like wonder

Taken at a distance, with some measure

Of quiet detachment, where failure

Dulled by grief disappears

And joy is the only thing that can

Possibly take its place

No longer with boots of the hunter on

The chalk of a thousand sunsets

Has left its mark in nodding understatement

Of all the dreams left like alder leaves

Posterity knows Autumns well enough

That by disks of splendour, all that something

Set in a lusty tune, rust of dormant boughs.

Like Lightning


7

It’s like Lightning
to learn to love your life
here one moment, gone the next
not for lack of storms
or shapeless mouths of breeze
for transience, the clouds
that keep hiding the sun
this gaunt gold of seasons
they that keep passing
tracing the outline of what
happiness means, the landscape
of our love, belonging, into new years
on the lips of branches
it’s like lightning
to fall in love again
twenty-second howls
of what it means to feel again
what a fire with a risk
what a song with the rain
as always the body
is made for spring, for
tender moments
excitement shouts
and sanctuary
like a burning river
how sensual are these
up and downs, never ceasing
escaping like light
into the dark void.

I lose myself inside this soft world


Love is the joy of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the Gods.
~Plato

Art Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/miss-universe-353517674

6

Everyday wonder makes a claim in my life
she kills me with delight
for an ordinary pleasure or a surprise

light on the haystack, breeze on the stream
hope in the eyes of the young
faith in the heart of a pure soul
I’d like to think I have acclimatized myself
To joy, but it’s not true

we don’t have an exceptional relationship yet
though we are bonding, building rapport
it can take years of untrimmed kindness

to sooth a weary soul, lips of spirit
kisses of altruism, echoes of passion
everyday wonder, makes a hole
in the place inside of me where
I make my daily presentation to myself

nudging me to celebrate, what I do have
love that has found me, friends who stay
poverty shows prosperity, hardship shows strength

while we are growing wise,
we are growing old, I’m not surprised
to feel a little more mindful sometimes.

Autumn painfully chafes


5

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Kriszti-n-Darwin-476002094

Another year gone and going
Soon autumn will return with her
Spices of colors, rejoicing change
Chanting loss, let’s say it again

Soon the uneaten fruits of our lives
Will turn to moss, and whispers
Once loud will grow so very dim
The symbols we tell ourselves

Will change, even our language
Will be more mature, us and we
These particular islands will change
Our subterranean castles will gleam

New possibilities, among the white
Of the harvests we carried from spring
Into the golden colds, the forever pastures
Of momentary pauses, the reckonings

Another year where we give up our plans
To the experience, our wanderings for water
Our return back to the source
All the efforts to be and have what

We already are, shadows crumbled damply
By the side of our journeys, how we once
Mattered so much to ourselves, now we can
Relax in a more divine detachment.

A dream of stars


5

There is a thing in me that dreamed of stars
dreamed of broken little earth-stars
that computers took to managing
ships that we went out with our last survivors
a quiet future, scattered like ancestors
from Africa to promises, and laments
that lasted lifetimes, which were inherited
to build a few wild stanzas
for simplicity’s sake and geniuses

that might not feel the pains like I do
I would have preferred more time
to get to the bottom of society, but she
was so full of surprises, I learned by experience
not to dig too deeply in her instincts
she was her own crisis point of dreams
where all our dreams collided in warped solutions
for problems of our generation, issues
that were never solved, mostly ignored, forgotten

history did not learn from itself, we
were individuals, improperly networked
without the capacity for collective intelligence
before the singularity, everything seemed random
nature was not enough, we were poor inhabitants
undisciplined, messy, prowling, cruel
and I became homesick for moderation, simplicity, pristine
conditions of music made by streams, thunder, rain.

Lost & Found


Life has loveliness to sell, all beautiful and splendid things, blue waves whitened on a cliff, soaring fire that sways and sings, and children’s faces looking up, holding wonder like a cup.
~ Sara Teasdale

4

Stand still.
to let infinity catch up with you
meanwhile the world catches up with you
she’ll pass you soon, you won’t be young
forever, smile, for it happened to us before
the trees ahead now move with nano-helpers
to location more optimal, the flowers bloom
invariably like pretty eyes of the conscious web
you do not have to be good, just love
and move on, attaching yourself to what is universal
true, beautiful, high-minded, pure
how lonely it can be sometimes, no doubt
existence has a harshness and cities have a stench
of tar and the homeless in winter
the marketplace is a dirty place
there are people there who will cheat you
lovers will leave you, babies will cry
but the forest knows where you are
the stars still cast their chill down upon you
you have a place in the grand design
no matter how insignificant in chance
variables of destiny, your signature is a spark
a shadowy breath of the meaning you give it
you are entitled to powerful strangers, familiar rituals
spiritual awakenings, that’s your birthright
Look up.
sometimes just breathe and look around
stop thinking always about yourself.

The Eleventh Hour of Summer Days


Screen Shot 08-15-14 at 06.01 PM

Be quiet, I’m hurting who I used to be
I’m done with him, done with her
it’s not their fault, it’s just history

who I used to be is filled with forgiveness
the cowardice, embarrassments what
no, have waded into flowing gratitude
I cannot help the turbulence
the funny growing pains, the people

who were actors in the karma-drama
it’s all a question of timing, compatibility
who makes their world, conquers

who remakes themselves, wins
grasshopper, swan or butterfly
it’s all the same to me
I’ll be myself all over again
step on fate’s toes if need be

for these are not enormous, complicated days
there are just vulnerably sweet human hours
be still, I’ve forgotten so many things

I no longer have doubts about
the plan of the universe inside of me
it grew into its own being, even my free-will
had a structure so you see, be idle or blessed
or work as hard as you please

I’ll kneel down in the grass
and lift my pale eyes with grace
with words of the wise and children’s tales

never thinking what might have been
laughing with wings open, playful
and attentive, wild for how precious life can be.

Solar immersion


3

I heard it, shining across the other side of the sky
it was light and wavy and generated
a physics seen and unseen to the naked eye
it was the star’s color, the cosmos’s immortality
waving hello being tenderly stroked
by the seeming finger tips of earth
clouds the color of silver evening
have you ever seen anything in your life
more wonderful, floating across
horizons after days, after years so relaxed and easy
free as a sea that never melts in her own destiny
red flower of worshipers, morning power
of a thousand symmetrical perfect distances
the sun, have you felt felt anything like it
against your skin like a fiery atom of Agni
O’, not I, it’s the warmth of all living
it’s the empty handed everything at the
seat of your belly, it’s the last star of light
that’s intimate, it’s the color of light of home.

As you strode deeper into the world


When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
~ Mary Oliver

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Horse-475589992

2

As you strode deeper into the world

One day you finally knew
The journey had ended where
It had begun, the voices soft
Lifted you to trembling with joy
A grace became your whole house

You were moved, divided
And put together again
Your soul kept crying raining joy
It was delight you knew, that you had
Forgotten, long since you were a child

Joy that has no purposes but to live
Observe, remark, joke to yourself
These were your foundations returned
Your memory wrapped everything
In a calm embrace, like branches and stones

You were a part of this all, energy
Came from one place and was moved
Here or there, but the world you loved
Well, it would go on, it wasn’t so much
A worry of yours anymore, little by little

Love became the silent prayers
Of your steps, until you no longer
Could exist, would exist, no more
One day you finally recognized your purpose
It was then you kept company

With death in that strange surreal space
Between Summer and Autumn when
You saved yourself, you finally did just do that.

the starbucks zeitgeist


The Internet is so big, so powerful and pointless that for some people it is a complete substitute for life.
~ Andrew Brown

10

Tonight the stars are bleeding light
A celestial swag of falling twinkles
The Sun an overpriced security blanket

In the alarming darkness of the karaoke of space
Tonight the Moon is carrying her axioms
Of reflecting truth, reflecting the muse

Of oceans, and the Angels are daring
Mortals to find a better way, to do business
The Earth inviting hungry men to dinner

And the Cosmos at the moment doesn’t care
For the manner in which human beings
Self-destruct, it’s the same on thousands of worlds

Just the facts of consciousness before
Singularity, the animal males that find a way to kill
For voluptuous profit and a false sense of prosperity

The luxuries they die for, the short-term strategies
Of an elite for a decade, until life throws them
Starboard back into the office jukeboxes from

Which they came from, googles and facebooks of greed
Yahoos, microsofts, apples, paypals, amazons,
It’s a hard job innovating for a generation

You don’t truly understand, the zeitgeist
Arrives before you’re ready and departs
Leaving you a bitter and cynical old man.

Rose of the New World


Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without.
~ Buddha

9

Rose of all the worlds, Rose of
The pretty dawns, arise from rain
And dew, insatiable symbols of the new
Spring as old as Nights, God claims
your little cries, singing passwords

Down the years, love sings and never
Ceases, only changes hands, throats, hearts
Rose of all Roses, each brilliant hour
Seize for extinction waits, in starry mirth
To begin again, and again, in forums of light

Forms of water and oxygen, do not fret
Gather all your love into a woven silence
To smile from pale dawns, where you shall
Speak no more, God’s bell has claimed
A thousand trips of sound, for churches

That now stand empty, and centuries forgotten
Rose stand still, in pink and white
That we might spot you from afar, around the bend
Rose of dear battle, Rose of life
Love is the last release from worldly strife.

Untitled but Free


“People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.”
― Søren Kierkegaard

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Restless-Drifter-Polaroid-2-474325733

8

You say the wind is only wind
And blood is only blood
That human life is not to blame

For the balances nature makes
But I have seen the deadliest
And I have carried the doom
In my mouth, though my soul
Praises strangest joys of

Unextinguished gratitude and
Secrets of hope, I’ll stay a while
To see how the future coaxes

This world, you say our flesh
Breathes and is alive, I’ll show you
Artificial neurons, these microchips
That mimic the human brain
It’s all a matter of design, who

Will live and who will die
You say the wind is only wind
You say these eyes are only eyes

But I’ve lived on hundreds of worlds
And I’ve seen visions of the end of times
We’re all synapses for some kind of intelligence
All nodes in a spiritual web of dreams
Whose multitudes make up reality

Tell the moths and the seasons
That they are not programs, that they too
Have free-will, but I’ve never

Seen a river lose its course
Not to join itself again, I’ve never
Seen a Sun die before its time.

Ebola, the 60% protocol


Ebola then turns the insides of its host into jelly: you begin to vomit black junk which is basically your dissolved liver and internal organs.”
― Andrew Cormier

7

Fear too is an epidemic, it stretches out like
An incubation period for a kind of doom
Population control, whispered a silent elite
Who engineer our wallets, our GMO food, our futures

Ebola was a convenient way, of making us fear
Who we once were again, black as a Nigerian
We died alone in deathbeds, isolated plastic containers
For who we once were, our organs giving out

Infection was a spider hand, MSM gave us
False positives, but could the main-stream-media
Be trusted any longer? Wasn’t this just a matter
Of time, an algorithm set loose upon the billions?

Fear is that place, where people go in adversity
It’s hypnotic like an audience at a concert
It’s contagious how the will for self-preservation can spread
Fight of flee, but where to run, out of the cities?

The new normal is a kind of paranoia
While we watch the situation very closely
Every hour there is underground news about
Another case in another country, Ebola isn’t

Your grandmother that only likes good climates
She’s an engineered hypothesis of how mobility
Causes any true pandemic to become a flamboyant outbreak
The comet that signals black plagues has been seen

Fear too is a weapon, when you can’t stop the world
Because it’s too costly to do so, and you can’t
Tell the world not to fly because we’re too free
We left Africa a long time ago, but who among us
Would stand 20 meters from their open graves?

Aftermath in Realtime:

1. http://healthmap.org/ebola/
2. http://healthmap.org/en/

1. What city in Europe has the greatest chance of being the first major outbreak area?

That would be Paris, France.

2. What Country has the greatest chance of losing the most lives in the next 3 months?

That would be India.

Related VIDEOS:

1. August 8th, 2014

2.

Related Articles:

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2014_West_Africa_Ebola_outbreak
2. http://www.godlikeproductions.com/forum1/message2611902/pg1
3. http://www.godlikeproductions.com/forum1/message2615364/pg1
Spread Rate of 1.86
4. http://www.godlikeproductions.com/forum1/message2612635/pg1

Reached Nigeria 27th July, 2014.

August 9th List of Infected Countries:

1.Guinea
2.Liberia
3.Sierra Leone
4.Nigeria
5.Benin
6. (Even as I wrote this) Senegal and Ghana likely have cases too now.

August 10th:

People are being tested in the following places. [not confirmed cases]
1. Bucharest (Romania)
2. Hong Kong(Hong Kong)
3. Chennai (India)
4. Brampton (Canada) patient was Negative for Ebola.
5. Hamburg (Germany)

Scarcity Scenario:

1. http://www.godlikeproductions.com/forum1/message2615340/pg1

Born Privileged


If in a country, most of the wealth is concentrated in the hands of the few, then this country can hardly witness harmony and stability.
Wen Jiabao

6

With sad slyness you’ve learned
What privilege can do to a person
The unequal distribution of wealth
A tipping point before apocalypse

You learned to extract love
From a dying world, was it so easy?
To love the humanity who brutalized you?
Their pressing of insolent voices

Where every minority is vulnerable
Your skin is the outer skin of all
That has ever happened to you
Where you were victim and betrayer

Saint and corporate criminal
You played all the roles, while
Nations watched other nations lose hope
How can I caress you at night

Knowing others don’t have tears left?
I cannot caress the civil unrest
Caused by a world unable to change
To start love like this, for the simple

Reason of breeding, familiarity, complacency
When our only religions is the nuclear family
Or the profit of our own extended freedom
Just one more generation, we say to ourselves

But let’s keep the route to childhood open
We live ourselves in the eyes of our children
Another life, another world, it’s not ideal
It’s just how the world has always survived

To be born in privilege, that’s right
To open the earth for pipes and water
To become lawyers, doctors, politicians
Because you’ve come far, because
Somebody sacrificed for you.

Splash of crowds


“Never love anyone who treats you like you’re ordinary.”
― Oscar Wilde

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Beautiful-mind-beautiful-soul-245667802

5

bright honey pours
all across my dawn
for pictures of you

that seem a hundred years ago
or seven, or beautifully
transparent into who
I once was, and the person
I’ve become, the nectar is curved

love never leaves us truly
just a nameless horizon
where faces shimmer

and wisdom like a fabric
can be held from world to world
planet to planet, until
our body of pure love suddenly
touches the light of a new day

and every face seems like
somebody we should have known
every personality feels really

intimate, I get that a lot
when I’m people watching
it’s a baptism of love
fluid as golden light
as I melt so easily into a stranger’s

eyes, that I feel my entire life
cupped in their hands, in their
memories, as they mix with my own.

Generation visitor


Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/30-Turmoil-of-memories-473308954

4

I will not dream of houses or babies
i’m but a Visitor here, brief is my stay
in your hallways, alleys, pubs
I’ve seen what I’ve been shown

by your world, misplaced among the crowds
and I too have touched the night
the kind of strange pages
in which we write our dreams

that are not what they once were
we’ve been humbled by the greed
of a previous generation, while we live
in debt, we attempt to love completely

because we know the signs are there
nothing, but the company of fears
that brim on lonesome against the wild
of panic queues of this lost mortality

what did we do to deserve this?
no pensions, no jobs, no futures
I cannot afford to dream of normalcy
my parents did not buy me property

I did not have the good fortune
to inherit the world on a silver platter
written in haste, my life was a blur
of surviving, one moment to the next
in search of a better dream worth living for.

The ones worth suffering for


“Friendship is born at that moment when one man says to another: “What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . .””
― C.S. Lewis

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/A-friendship-tale-116384835

3

i

It’s a long time since I haven’t
heard from you, old friend
though you like to live in my mind
and in those moments I imagine
you are thinking of me too

our time and place is gone
to erect for ourselves a lovers’
monument deep in the recess of our soul

ii

We give each slice to another man
another woman, but the truth is
few captivate our ideals, have values
in the likeness of our own
once we talked about who we would

be, and to speak about changes
was to speak about love,
the love we shared for our future

iii

When you wept because we had to part
did you know there was another
unlike me waiting for you?
It’s a long time since I haven’t
heard from you, I did not receive

even a little piece of paper
It’s not a lack of love
but a lack of friendship
which makes the missing stronger.