The dark clouds to the east;
the sunshine to the west;
the gentle breeze that hardly trouble the leaves
and the barely felt drizzle;
They all remind of the day you were born;
it’s like all them weather wanted to be the one to welcome you home!

A Thunderstorm is brewing!

Why do i keep raining from my eyes?
Turning my own sorrows into bitter lies
It is just a storm glooming a cloudy day,
thunderstorms and flooding from my own eyes,
the gates that
burst a ton of water..then
another river of emotion drowns.
me away completly, The question,

" How to kill these frowns?"

before i end up swimming in a lake of sad,
Thunder is now sounding!

"Have i gone 'pletely mad?"

I finished my Chinese meal all at once
and stared at the cookies like some sort of dunce.

When I read my fortune I did not understand
from the small piece of paper, I held in my hand.

It said that my next days wouldn't be "fun",
and that my plight was to live like Attila the Hun;

I wasn't real comfortable about eating alone
but, I paid off the bill and went straight to the phone.

I placed my phone call from the diner's phone booth
in search for my date for lunch, my friend Ruth.

Dawn- slayer of pretense, usher of youth-
you, born anew as passing season,
wield those luminous swords, sharp and uncouth,
and absolve ignorance of reason.
Are you not the mother of sweet knowledge?

Dawn – light of tunnels, well of Saharas-
You, of divine hue, alive in Dark’s death
when all that’s fair is stripped of myrrhs
And Life’s Eden is, fast as youth, but heath.
Are you not the promise that Hope is nigh?

—Mini-anthology: Hepatica—

He danced on Love’s fiery coals
their heat exciting his heart
as Lent lilies by Wind’s tune.
His quill mercilessly bled
lucid verse on his ardour;
and his violin’s serenades
infused night’s serene quiescence.

Ah, but this cruel absence
his sanity now pervades
and strips his heart to the core.
Yet he by Love’s promise led-
drawn into approaching monsoon-
yields and partakes of the hurt
as no memory recalls.

Head bowed, he’ll stand- in his hand,
a lonely withered camellia.

If elephants consume your plants
And devastate your lawn
Don’t run about or scream and shout
Just wait until they’ve gawn
For elephants are very large
And everybody knows
It really really hurts
Should they step upon your toes

Footsteps On The Staircase.

Hearing footsteps on the staircase
a young boy is silent in his room,
only moonlight from the window
brightens the darkness and gloom.
His heart beats fast, fear increases
as an angry father opens the door,
staggering drunkenly towards him
to inflict violent cruelty once more.

Join the ice cream army, as they head off to the coast
In the stationary traffic, they sit there and they roast
By the time that they arrive, the day is nearly done
Join the ice cream army as they race to catch some sun

Join the ice cream army, sitting safely on the sands
Lazing in their deckchairs with their sundaes in their hands
Basking in the sunshine, laying like they’re dead
See the ice cream army, watch them all turn red

When everyone wore a fedora
And smoked fifty dollar cigars
Ate in the finest of restaurants
Mixed with the brightest of stars

When life was a little bit gentler
With tennis and tea on the lawn
And everyone dressed up for dinner
Then went out to samba till dawn

When today was once tomorrow
When the future seemed so bright and clear
When life was packed full of adventure
How I wish that those days were still here

It was out in Venezuela when I ran into this sailor
He was sitting at the bar, right next to me
He was rugged he was mean and he wasn’t very clean
But I listened when he spoke about the sea

There were stories there were tales, of the hunt for killer whales
When his leg was bitten off below the knee
How en route to Senegal they were shipwrecked in squall
He survived for sixteen weeks, tied to a tree