We are just people, watching life through a lens of wrongs. As time unravels into age, we grow and feel a different rage. Most of us became compassionate, give back and think of death as adequate. Few see the alternative, spin lies, fakery and live into misery. We shake their hands, look into their minds …
Poetry is universal; poetry is eternal; poetry is a life beginning, which will meet you at the end. Poetry is a journey; poetry never pretends; poetry is a feeling of life that will put you on the mend. Poetry is a language understood by few – for the road ahead, giving meaning to the weekend. …
I want to disappear, leave – without anyone knowing where I am. Nobody will miss me; my job doesn’t mean anything or will come to anything when missed for a moment by fragile minds. Do you know who you are? Life is empty, magnified for intensity – in a world filled with paradoxical skies. Get …
To think we live under a trillion stars with planets among us that look like ours. Beyond this galaxy, even more exist! With a number, you can’t think of because it’s too big. The universe is like bubbles in a bath, moving away from each other and popping in your grasp. Remove the plug, and …
I feel alone. No one is watching me as my life is postponed. The friction from the wind dances with my soul. Is life a moment to be held in the cold? I’m writing a template for a time that was felt – in the sky – under the lemon meringue horizon belt. The framework …
I’ve stood in a stadium before my arrival to Earth. I walked past Prince William and Harry – wearing super white suits and black boots, smiling with girth. Will Smith had a lot to say, so I listened to his conspiracy theories and future of birth. Muhammad Ali exchanged nods as we talked about boxing …
A young girl arose with confidence and charisma. She was given an unforeseen future; she spoke to a nation with stories of hope and led her sister to join the folk. For a girl, life seemed full of scope, but for a woman, a burden slowly awoke. Could anyone carry the weight of a Monarchy? …
I can’t think anymore – it’s black with nothing left to give. These blue eyes seem to be getting smaller, with the grey hairs growing thinner over a wrinkled brow. Waiting, waiting for something to happen. Nothing ever comes from waiting; instead, old memories give life into a dying body. Hopes materialised into dust – …
Earth You can smell the brown, red earth when you dig it over with a spade. It fills the senses with nutrients, clay and a hint of rain. It’s life-giving, workable and full of display; this mud wants seeds and bulbs to paint a landscape. The land is everywhere we walk; the trees huddle together …
The fields of wheat look free in the warm sunset. Light touches the horizon and wraps a soft, warm glow of appreciation into the awaiting eyes. There it is, happiness! Some days last too long, working for a future race that will never be known. I hope they visit this place; I hope they are …