When poetry touches the soul, everything starts making sense. The inner world seems real and the outer one becomes bearable. When thoughts mixed with words travel through the empty spaces of mind, poetry happens to me. It always has been a mysterious force guiding me through. With two published books and one amaturish blog, I consider myself blessed to have started this journey. An old diary with think brown cover and an over used, end bitten pen. That’s where real magic begins! May you find your undiscovered meanings in my poems. May existence make sense. Even if just for a little while.
You heard what you wanted to hear You felt what you wanted to feel You ignored all the evidence to the contrary And resigned yourself to the fates But what you did not see Was the turmoil that started it
Revulsion in mood of climate rosy winter is falling down crazy to expose its colors wearing a warm white gown winter arrives at all cost on head glazed silver crown every thing takes new twist valley dressed as an icy
No snow falling tonight all is dark wet and dreich, Stars cant be seen all hidden by low lying cloud, Shepherds struggle market price for sheep is too low, children born in squalor no stables left, now turned to houses
Mano a mano taut our mutually limp and gnarled fingers bony hooks draped with blotched flesh – varicose veined, decubitus descent, and aged arthritic anatomy like a scorched oxbow lake cruelly desiccating topography! * * * * * * *
From the blank book can I lift some questions for the lofty hopes when I lost myself near the home? The fear was darting inside the white sores. Keys were lost for the answers and truth fell castrated. The magic