Finally I’m here today

Flying high on feathers of hope

Refusing to remain tight like a bud

From the risk of budding under the scorching sun

I often hear laughter invited from beyond

The shame, the dark thoughts and spite

Do they intend to break my spirit?

And hide my teary eyes beneath a bowed head?

The small bird sings a tune without words

Perching in the stems of my soul

Reminding that whether still or not

The daybreak is astoundingly clear



The free flowing light of my window

And an air of quiet fortitude

Vow that I need to be free

And get things off my chest

For far too long my eyes lost their bearing

I’ve been a bird with no place to land

Flying aimlessly as if escaping hell

Going in circles like a kite in the wind

I know they say no one is perfect, but I’m perfect in my own way

I deserve to experience raindrops drizzling down my skin

As they dance through the dazzling sunlight

I yearn to identify them and feel them

I want and need an earful of sound advice

All to be seen through the gentle curved lens

My courage is insisting and pulling hard

To fight back into light and air

A Bloom of Hope in the Middle of Nowhere

The fading smell of December rains

Accompanied the clear and lazy sky

Birds singing and chirping in the trees

Grasses uttering secretly underfoot

The sight was so beautiful that it hurt

She felt a snakelike delight that moment

This feeling was embedded in her skin

It crept through her the way a spirit would

For far, far too long she had been careless

Running away from the sharp vicious memory

That clutched her in a severe hurtful death grip

Leaving her with a helpless tired appearance

She was unable to fight back her teary eye blinks

All hurtful feelings cascaded through her like flood

Turning any and all husbanded anger watery

Mingled with a startling and lovely liberation

Dark-Colored Light

He was in a sorry state of despair

Everyday growing sorrier with disgust

Thinking of his low and filthy life

Soon he would steal than starve

Life felt like a statue whose parts were fit badly

And he deemed himself unworthy of sunlight

He had tried everything that he could

There was no more any art to it

The wrath of god had made him smaller than a vermin

And it forced him to wear that look each day

Malicious eyes accompanying him all over

With something hotter than loath

He walked aimless like a torn piece of paper

Blown through the vast deserts of Egypt

Resignation ringing loudly through his lips

Ignoring his wounded, closed appearance

All he could smell was imaginary food

He would risk everything that day

Even violence or violent death

The resolve ate him up like cholera

He ignored the lingering smear of red sunlight

Even the hordes of rats that sprawled his way

They were trivial in the grand scheme of things

Demanded voraciously in his flow of thoughts

Death at Midnight

The trees swayed here and there

Lost in the silent rhythm of the winds

Whispering dark secrets that journeyed far

Unflustered by scheming ways of this world

Pinkening sun vanishing in distant horizons

Dark clouds forming across the dull sky

Reflecting dark haunting thoughts

And another unfulfilled promise

The caged bird begun singing

A sad song reverberating loudly in the air

The aging song seemed like an endless torture

As if performed by someone in the wrong stage

The creek crack of the cage tormented the ears

 Than that of uncertainty to what awaited

That trickled under the charcoal sky

The scent assaulting the nostrils

Hope was a sad irritation

The song carried a hurt, pleading sound

A weakened sound with no meaning or reason

Since the prospect of death grieved the caged bird

Approaching thunderstorms emptied light in the sky

Soon she would be a flower savaged by gale

She was trapped in spite of everything

Waiting to feel her heartbeat dying

Prosperity Preachers


Their ardent audience

seek restoration

for their broken relationships

for their fading bodies

a painful life of the shambles


They overload top t.v shows

also expensive book-shelves

preaching that riches

is a reward for good behavior


Theirs is to account for our sins

yours and mine

teaching about living abundantly

expecting God to rain down blessings


For them God is always fair

they don’t just say it

they prove it

photos in their opulent homes

and in their privately owned luxurious jets


Fair means the God rewards the good

and reproves the bad

including the baby who dies

in her mother’s womb

or in his crib

Here Now


I want to live this moment

since I know it is fleeting

I am not absorbed in anything else.


This moment is not mine alone

it goes beyond everything perfect

and is more than my hustles and bustles.


All shades of emotions

cross my mind

they are varied and urgent.


But I am here now

with everything that I am

and everything that I will never be.


I cherish all my stories

of joy and pain

this life is truly worth living.


Whether I feel happy or sad

I know one thing that I desire

to be completely lost here now.


It begs me to question

What do I yearn for?

What makes me ache?

A Beautiful Day


Today I wanted to write a sad poem

but it is a beautiful day

the earth is festively colored

rich shades of purple, blue, red and pink

stretch endlessly on the earth’s surface

enthralling my eyes and thoughts.


A puff of fresh air easily flows

through the intensely colored petals

dancing to a rhythm only known to them.


Is it because it is winter?

Does it breathe a new life to everything?

Including me?


Cheering strands of light

a mare reflection of sun’s rays

push my questioning glances aside

glowing faintly and I long for more.


This tranquil vision cannot be destructed

by mist drifting from invisible depths

getting thicker and thicker like ground fog

settling mall clouds of dust.



I’d forgotten how love feels

my soul had been hidden and long forgotten

but dead parts of me have been awakened

this beautiful day has illuminated every part of me. .

If I was to Love


If I was to love

i’d love with all my faith

from my childhood innocence

to tears and grief that colors adulthood.


I’d speak of my lover’s name

in every passionate and delightful breath

and love even more in the afterlife.


I am single

but I listen with blushing ears

the sound of river’s sacred flame

flowing into many fountains and into the blue sea


How I weep!

Watching the mountains

giving endlessly

the low and deep kiss

to the blue and sometimes darkened sky.


The splendor of bright stars

murmur under the moonbeam

like a dream

keeping my virgin pride intact

for the sun shall preserve my youthful hue with gold.