Meadow

Plugged into the green.
The pretty flowers are prancing.
Jealous, blue skies. Untamed.
Magnificent like a beloved.
Cherished, unblemished, fresh.
No hands can kill the beauty.
The wonders speak truthfully.

2024

part of us

they’re part of us—

the days after.
the long distance.
the many what ifs.

regrets are normal.
i’m tempted to blame,
to point my fingers at you,
but i avoided.

they’re part of us—

these side effects.
these preoccupations.
these questions.
these phantoms.

2024

after sunset

lost in your silence
after sunset,
i’ve slumbered myself
in the green woods,
battling with questions
in my dreams,
feeding the phantoms
with salt and cream.

2024

cold sunday

the color
of melons is
all over my room.

2024

blur

the key word
to eternal madness
of blooming in a strange
world, in uncertain times,
with unloving people,
is just a blur.

2024

The Falling Of Yellow Petals

Yellow petals falling
from your aggressive
mouth,

raining like the month
of June.

A belfry from afar
rings a series of echo
in angst and dilemma,

singing folk songs of
witches and blue moon.

2024

traffic

there’s a heavy
sigh that transcends
a karma.

2024

jailbird

dropping names,
judging games,
full of apathy,
unloving,
sinking deep
in chronic atmosphere.
beaten with
swear words.
thrown,
forgotten,
incarcerated.

2024

The Virgin Moon

Silvery across the dark skies.
The night is a big solitude.
It ain’t perfect, it ain’t the best.
It’s just a pretty reflection of the present.
Untouched, unbreakable, endless.
Sacred in its entirety.

2024

• celebrating 35 years of writing poetry 🙂

Venus

You tarnish
towards the
abuse of your
beauty.

2024