The in Between



The in Between


I wish not to return-

To begin at a page many chapters behind

folded places to mark all the impressionable parts

(not too many I am afraid)

But sometimes in the story with a breaking of hearts

I left stains on the paper from my depleted tears,

underlined with red ink I may find

all the reasons to explain my deep fears

and go back on the story to connect I may try

all the dots from the long tedious chapters

the in between understanding the reasons

why a story begins with a cry

as it ends with the changing of seasons-


“And in the fall, the cold would wither that which was known, scattering new seed. In the spring, that which had been sleeping awoke and a new season of beauty began. For Life seeks life and builds a bridge across the darkest valley.”

― David Paul Kirkpatrick, The Address Of Happiness

My Sadness



My Sadness


It is hard to define this lingering affection

more like a benign infection

slowly tainting my heart-

It happens on cloudy days oftentimes

when listening to a melody on the radio

alone  on a Friday night, sometimes

starts with a tear

like a solitary drop with skies clear

from impending storms

and then this strange feeling that forms

takes over my emotions,

melancholic allergy to a loveless life perhaps

it may be the reason for this soul inflection-


“Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go

To heal my heart and drown my woe

Rain may fall, and wind may blow

And many miles be still to go

But under a tall tree will I lie

And let the clouds go sailing by”

― J.R.R. Tolkien

Silence of a Lonesome Life



Silence of a Lonesome Life



can you hear the silence of a lonesome life?

It sounds like the wind howling in the storm

through the open window emptiness adorn

all the dusty spaces where memories subside-

It sounds like water rushing through the streams

in the enchanted forest of my past gone dreams.

Can you hear the silence as I drift away?

It sounds like a whisper in the dead of night

ghosts pacing the halls of my empty house-



can you hear the silence of a lonesome life?

It sounds like the wind singing to the moon

through the open window everything complete

all the spaces filled with memories alive-

It sounds like water playing in the streams

in the enchanted forest of my present dreams.

Can you hear the silence as I find my way?

It sounds like god’s whisper in the quiet night

ghost dancing the halls of my love filled house-


“To an optimist loneliness is freedom, to all others it is prison.”

― Amit Kalantri

Of what will become

Love and Loss (Angled)


Of what will become


I am tired-

My body crushed beneath the weight of a million years

my soul infected with the plague of disappointments craves

the silent rest of eternal night, the quiet weight of graves

to house my flesh, to complete my cycle and be home again-

And how I loved this life, forsaken roads leading to places

full of joy among the tears I shed at times of tribulation,

the miracles of flowers, sunlight and my laughing child.

I loved it all and made it mine in happiness and pain

all exhausted until nothing left but shadows in isolation

nothing left but dark stains of history mapping my skin

from where all began to where x marks the spot

of my here and now, tired from the weight of years-


The overgrowth hides the stone

carved letters of forgotten name

under a quiet lot facing the ocean

forever now  extinguished flame


“Life’s just a bunch of accidents, connected by one perfect end.”

― Daniel C. Tomas

New Nest



New Nest


Finding a new nest a challenge to be

  my expensive dreams turned to resignation-

Trapped in the claws of the tax man

I search and I search like a honeybee

what a tedious task and so much frustration

in a seller’s market and all such a scam

an inflating bubble or consumer’s trap

leaving me exhausted and ready for a nap…

I will try again and secure my rate

finding a new nest in this housing rape-


“A bird in a nest is secure, but that is not why God gave it wings.”― Matshona Dhliwayo

Looking for a new home. I have been renting for almost five years since my divorced and now that I have to move I found out I can pay less for a mortgage than to rent a house. It is just me and my daughter who is on the way to another college where she plans to move with the boyfriend by December. After that,  I’ll have a nice nest for myself and my ghosts-

Life Stream




Life Stream


Where do you begin in the stream of life?

It feels forever is lost inside the beauty

of impregnated words I find

between rhymes that you easily invoke-

May I love you without knowing your face

or the tone of your skin, without ever being mine?

I can love with the heat of a sun setting passion aflame

or the flapping of wings of the Adonis blue,

I can love you in my clumsiness or my grace

with every exhale casting spells in your name

and every gesture reserved just for you

through the times where you always begin

by the endless words in a stream of your life-


“I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of the hunger for life that gnaws in us all.”

― Richard Wright,





My hope becomes old and it wrinkles and falls

to the ground beneath you-

Such a lonesome existence

to be found,

to be drowned

in a need that it grew

from a smile so much carelessly tossed,

as if knew

hope turns old with the distance

and it wrinkles and falls.


“Hold fast to dreams,

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird,

That cannot fly.”

― Langston Hughes

4 Year Anniversary

That long? I am surprised! Who said I am not good with commitment? 😉



Happy Anniversary with!
You registered on 4 years ago.
Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.