Search me, oh my spirit
at the riptide on my blue veins.
I am at the end of the line
in the deep ocean I lay.
I let the undercurrent shake
my foundations of faith
moored and hidden
beneath the sea weeds
and coral cloisters
beached with visions.
Murkier as mud clouds,
adrift in liquid abyss
disturbed my soul. I
an abandoned cast-away.
The once mighty crusader
sailed the troubled waters
has now dropped the anchors.
Weighed down, crashed,
beaten and ravaged.
I had forgotten the buoy
afloat in its hope. Angel
caught in the maelstrom
shroud in its mystery
just like a prayer.
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Tell me how I should not,
cross paths with years-
I avoided to wage wars
History lays the casualties.
I hungered for more but
you left me with nothing.
Instead, ransacked my feelings
used to crowd with many.
We exchange fires,
empty bullet shells.
Words wound like shrapnel
of the beginning to an end.
Courage sometimes do not reward
the martyrdom of a soldier.
Nor losing the only option
to breath beyond
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I had a habit of putting off words,
out of fear and out of shame.
Those liberal and unorthodox thoughts
you may find offensive and tagged as madness.
I never came across, closer to mean
that I am thinking about you.
It’s like a hand in the glove.
Emotions I can grasp but can’t touch.
What is happening? Chains that I’m trying
to break loose. Adrift, peace that comes
to knowing that I had offered honesty
at your table to feast. I regret not
about the words which were locked
and hidden from my heart. Words
which are meaningless now
and will never touch your heart.
I leave it to fate to bring
the silent messages,
mute and unspoken.
I let go.
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Stare out of the window
while the sun greets you.
Smile at the beauty of the leaf
giggling at the wind’s kisses.
You can dream while you’re awake
basking at your solitary pleasure
in isolation, without discontent.
Your mind paints on the canvas
the memories that has flesh and bones.
You can touch them with your imagination.
And your shadow whispers at something
about being in love, with life
and the pain is fleeting. Moving
like pictures of the waves at sea,
clouds sojourning the blue sky,
and the sun bids goodnight.
The wine will lose its spirit.
The midnight lamp extinguishes.
The sounds will soften.
But sleep will shy away
to the oceans of many
thousand nights before
with the stars shine bright.
For another day is here
reminiscing in solitude.
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Another death comes typical
like the ones before.
It’s the last nail on the trading post.
Faded signs becoming too obvious now.
The weeds have grown unkempt. Abandoned,
when a familiar shadow is missing.
No one travels from here.
It’s okay to catch some empty promises.
Like empty quarters and the city streets
that once filled with lucid sojournings
of midnight vultures needing some spaces
to spare in the magic hours.
Reality is harsh and it will whip you to bleed.
It’s unforgiving by the minute
the sparks have died down from the remnants
of a dying star. Tethered and servile
to the gravity of its shepherd moons.
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At the phone, I stare
waiting for signals
burning like fireflies,
embers and ashes
through the wire.
Fall into thoughts
The longest night
of killing the hours.
Catching Morse codes-
to smoke or not
to smoke puff floats
in luminescent air.
You win again.
When the cable lines
hanging low, dazed.
And confused as if
glimmering like tears
I, since the morning,
broken at a distance.
Like other nights
betting on a chance,
my silence is born.
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