Monthly Archives: November 2012

To be

Un-map your imagination
Dance to rhythms
Free of form
Let yourself be invisible to the judging eyes of the world
Random imperfections, beauty of soul



Nothing surprises me
Everything affects me
For I am made of
For I am Love (d)

Whispers – 4

What is love without restrains?

A blissful escapade
A sip of joy when lips perforate
Unspoken words
Translated by your hands
Being undone
Again and again

Want is love with restrains?

Whispers – 3

Ache without wound
Wound without flesh
Eternal Lover
I am, your creation…

Whispers – 2

Night of desires…with its mouth of fire defies me
To no one
I truly belong

Self: broken pieces
In the current of passion drifting away
One by one
Calming nocturnal creatures


In vain, sometimes, we attempt to excuse or re-define who we are
In vain, sometimes, we attempt to be what and who we are not
At the end of the day, when all silky wanting eyes surrender to the immensity, to the clarity of night
When we are left with the reflection and shadow of our own soul
It is then; we catch a glimpse of the poison and antidote
The sap of life rising within

Whispers – 1

I am a fool
To weep at what I am glad of.

Miranda – The tempest – WS


Sharp, bright, naïve
The fisherman’s knife carves
Emotions, unwanted parts

Winter notes – 1

By the fire
Folding love

Sunset of silence

Just because we are eternally looking at the horizon does not bring it any closer…

In his mind

Watching the horizon he spends his days
Waving to imaginary ships, while the intense cold penetrates
Bones first
Then the rest
His body, abandoned to pain
And yet
He waits and reflects (as much as he can)
Afternoon walks through the green meadows
Ocean flow calming his soul
Caressing the warm evenings of his beloved land
Invisible arms
In his mind, replays

His mind is not what it was
It has not been for a while
Boundless clouds freely sway
Past and present
Joy and pain

He does not remember what he fought for
or why he went away?
Memories do not reach daylight anymore
Just the tragedy
Of others
Of many
Engulfed, left behind
In a city of drunkenness, shaken by poverty and forgotten faces
Out of reach, some would say

Yet, in moments of lucidity
He is coming back
To the old prairie, the beloved land
In silence
His heart cries
While the last of his mind
Slips away
Like ocean’s sand

Nocturnal enchantment

Like fireflies
Every beat of my heart
Sends pulsating light
To the other half

Stranded and weeping

It is possible to descend
Further than you think
Ask the rain, flowing underground


Like the moon
Touching the stars
With its many faces
We too, dance

On poetry

” To feel greatly, and understand greatly, and express greatly, the natural Beauty, is the sole business of poetry. The rest’s diversion: those holy or noble sentiments, the intricate ideas, The love, lust, longing: reasons, but not the reason.”
Robinson Jeffers –The beauty of things


Proximity is not synonymous of intimacy


A lifeless flower
Even in her darkest hour
Its colours and fragrance

Your love

smells like rain
gently falling
on the red earth of my desires

-to bb-


While it rains
In the horizon
The storm becomes
A kiss


Born out of my sorrows
Appreciation of a word
Tear upon tear
Weeping and weeping
A waterfall