The editor

Yes. I will work where art dies. Where words go lose value and are cloned. I will be an editor and write when the day's through. Yes, and I shall have a relationship and do my papers and care for others and have friends, and I still will have time for myself. To write, but …

Poets to the world

All poets are equal in their quest,Armed with pen, paper, and ink,Fueled, sometimes, with wine and whiskey,They bring to life minds, places, scenes,By drawing black lines on white and praying,That they've made writing to trenscend words,That moves the hearts of fellow beings,That rouses interest, rouses rage,That rouses change, rouses love, empathy,That can make the world …

What then?

Will I go to the stars?Or hang from the moon's crescent side?Will I dance in darkness?Or sing the secret song of the universe?Will my energy roam and return to those so dear to me?Or will I disapear, vanish into nothingness?I cannot wait to find out, the ultimate answer,On the other side of life

so misunderstood

My heart dropped like rain when I saw her,I bled all over the streets,I was sprawled on the ground and she passed me,So I looked up , said, 'Hey, can you call me a doctor?'So she looked down , said, 'Hey, I've heard that one before.'So I smiled and said no and that it was …

Once

Once upon a time, the earth sneezed and humans slobering over its surface got bullied into a masked vacation. This offered them time to rekindle their relationship with nature, to rethink it. But sadly this is once upon a time and thus just a fairy tale. At least they got to enjoy the view, before …

Short Test

.As the veils of darkness fell, John ran. Past the houses covered in snow, he ran. Past the old station, a childhood playground. Over the hedges of Mr Darny. Into the closet, John ran. He was tired, drained. His body heaved with fatigue. His only thought: What now? Time seemed to have forgotten him in …

Wine and Writing on a Cold Night

Here I sit, Rooted to a chair, Drinking myself dry, With my curly hair Here I sit, With wine in a hand, And pen in the other, Every breath a sigh, Every limb out of joint, Lost in a red sea of self-pity As my eyes stare down at the pages I seem to lose …

The Desert

A camel ride

To loves never lived– by Issa Dioume

I never held her head between my hands,I grabbed at mist and caught myself,Heavily falls he who has never had a fall,And I fell harder than a boulder into an ocean.Now, till she comes, loneliness... Poor me, Poor me! from hour to hour The heat of love scorches my heart,But she my mind holds dear …

Many Loves

Plants grow,Humans change,When the sky makes love to the earth,Everyone, everything, gets wet.Life is simple.Let's just enjoy ourselves on this blue grain of sand floating in a sea of darkness and stars.