The Order of Things


The Order of Things


Pieces, scattered…

We shape what we wish, what we dream,

let it grow into something

and become part of things,

of a life we desire-

Discontentment like fire

sometimes slow, sometimes fast

burns the paths we created

and we let it all consume-

And we drift, and we drift

because everything we hated

we created in the past,

and we break into pieces

all scattered…

Its so hard to let it go

knowing how it doesn’t matter

to remember anymore,

and we forge ever so slow

a new path laden with hope

and new things we come to love,

or at least what we desire

without knowing how we built

what later breaks-

But we cope and we cope

day by day,

and we wait, and we wait

for discontentment like a fire

sometimes slow, sometimes fast

burning paths we created,

leaving pieces all scattered…

We shape what we wish, what we dream-


September 2018

“Whenever a river reaches the ocean, it waits to go back.”

― Will Advise

“Chaos was the law of nature; Order was the dream of man.”

― Henry Adams, The Education of Henry A


A King’s Crown


A King’s Crown


A hint of desperation, bittersweet regrets

came to play in the icy glass of Crown,

sipping time slowly my thoughts drown

in the dizzying spell of liquid moments.

Will I be like this when life forgets

how my heart beats so strong?

Turning the glass, I let the ice sweat

across the surface,

alone with these rhymes

the bittersweet liquor takes too long

to numb these thoughts circling my mind

 like hungry vultures-

I contemplate life, emotions resurface

in the amber color of the liquor

touching my lips… another,

to drive demons away

and this hint of desolation

that came to play in a glass of Crown-


September 2018

“Here’s to alcohol, the rose-colored glasses of life.”

― F. Scott Fitzgerald

“If you ever know a man who tries to drown his sorrows, kindly inform him his sorrows know how to swim.”

― Pittacus Lore, The Power of Six





The calm waves caressing my skin,

restless my soul deep beneath

roars engulfing my will to become-

One moment my life to begin,

another within dreams to be gone.

And I bathe in the warm of the water

drowning answers to questions I had,

letting go with the calm of the waves

while my soul rages on in the storm-


September 9, 2018

“There is peace even in the storm”

― Vincent van Gogh

Fading Light


Fading Light


It’s not death that I face

but the fading of light-

In the calm of the storm

I forgot how to fight,

how to never conform

to this river of life-

Ah the comfort of being!

To let things fade away

to become, just become

at the end of my day

what the storm left behind-

So to die will not dread

but the fading instead

of this star-gazing mind-


August  2018

“When eyes have died in its gaze, know the heart had died in its blaze.”

― Anthony Liccione

Stumble and Chase


Stumble and Chase


Some will wander with grace,

butterflies dancing in tune

to the music of life,

while I stumble and chase

illusive dreams-

Will it be just the same

when this smothering flame

finally comes to an end?

In eternal afterlife

to just stumble and chase

until finally amend

or forever be doomed-


July 2018

“This is our life; dreams come true, and dreams stumble, while others dreams remain postponed perpetuity.”

― Eyden I.


2018-07-04 12.33.06



What is poetry but liberated emotions running wild

infusing every word with our deepest dreams

and fantasies alike, we become lovers and kings

travelers across the galaxy and with imperfect rhymes

we seduce beauty and make slaves out of time

living forever and ever with every word compiled.


What is poetry but a moment of clarity in the mind

captured flashes of sanity translated into phrases

forgotten memories that time and pain erases

and return in moments stripped of guilt and shame,

poetry is our passion setting hearts aflame

with our deepest desires in every word entwined.


What is poetry but  a love affair hiding under covers

romance cascading down every line into the stream

of beauty found that softly entice to read and dream.

Poetry are kisses left in between for strangers lips

to taste in every word and gently touch with fingertips

the keys that make us friends, poets and lovers.


October 2015

To fly away


To fly away


You know, those moments where lost

inside ourselves we wish

for wings to fly away, so far away…

And here it goes, the subtle lacking

of strong emotions to guide my pen,

the longing dormant,

the wants all tamed

by wildly roaming disillusions.

And to believe that just a touch

its al it takes to light the flame,

to set my mind into a spin

of sweet confusions-

But how I wish I had those wings

to escape this dullness from within

and fly away, so far away..


May 24, 2018

“Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.”

― Anaïs Nin