Poetry

There’s a story
about a storm
which hits
unexpectedly and hard,
the kind
that changes your life.

Story!
That’s all it was
until I saw your eyes.

I wanted to shout and cry,
I yearned so long
to be here now,
and all I could do
is fall into your arms
and shiver in sighs.

It’s a dream,
it can’t be real
this things
don’t happen
to people like
you and me,
but you are here
next to me
and I know
it’s not a dream.

It takes time to realize all the shades of the heart and difference each…

Reality is a matter of perspective

Grabbing for the past
as grabbing for a thread of salvation.
With eyes wide open
to absorb the sight of fear
in front of the unknown.
It was better in the past,
things weren’t happening so fast,
everything was easier and we were happier.
Lies we tell ourselves are there
just to hide regrets
that are eating us alive from the inside out.
Longing for a time passed by,
for the person we once were
is a game of catching butterfly
while it flits from flower to flower.

The past, can we really leave it alone? Can we say —…

Poetry

To all the right and wrongs
shouting from high and below,
go left and right
leaving the centre
for some other time.

Whispers of a mind
that turn into screams
tinkling uneasy feeling
starting to burn and sting.

Masking and diminishing
how we feel with excuses
justify all that we don’t
feel good with.

Alcohol, drugs, and sex
with other lush vices and cocktails
consuming just to make it through the day
surviving with all the masked pain.

Do this, think that
be careful what you write. …

Poetry

Feeling the world is a choice
as much as it is not.
We all search for solace
while making our frame of the world.
Desperately reaching for something
to make our existence bearable,
finding ways to deceive ourselves
believing it’s for the best.

Feeling
is an open game,
for if I’m wrong I can always say
— there must be a reason for that feeling
that led me to this place,
so I did not lose
I wasn’t actually wrong,
there must be a reason for it all.

Justifying our behaviour is what we all do best, we skilfully learn…

Prose poetry

Nature doesn’t work in straight lines,
nor does life.

My action is reaction to your action
sweet and short - banging heads against the wall.
Communication as a major problem
adults at the level of toddlers.

We play, not to tell, game is the aim
trick or treat but roil in deep.
Notion of fraction, a chemical reaction
to kiss and touch we love too much

Must have
must go
must blow
…

“Be the input but hold the reaction”,
best advice for emotional dysfunction.
Consequence equals unfamiliar
feeling invincible, riding a bicycle.

High heels short skirt, too much lipstick…