I ambled along the edge of my days

Patience is a virtue they say if you know how to wait

but my life written past compromising my fate

burning light in a waste of a daze

served a master in memories graze.


But so hard to let go of the passing of life

Time’s a cruel thief they say but none has been taken

when I gave it away or it was most forsaken

clenching strong to the edge of a knife

thus neglecting to keep ‘self alive.


And what I seek if a master of winds

Life to be lived not controlled they say but I yank

and I push while I gulped and I drank

dragging stories behind with a glimpse

of my life just one set of footprints.


So I drift on these places that passed

Renew, release and let go they say while you can

does not matter where all things began

while I question how long all will last

living life between present and past-


“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”

― Søren Kierkegaard

My Eyes


My Eyes


“They are sad”- my mother said about my eyes

then kissed them both with tender care

and told me “life is never sadness”

but later found that in her kindness

she failed to see how through my years

from all the pain could not be spared.


“They are naughty” – my lover said about my eyes

and kissed them both lost in desire

then told me “life is full of pleasure

with every moment to hold and treasure”

 cradling my body between her thighs

my lover taught me about lust and fire.


“They are fierce” – my friend said about my eyes

and touched them softly with great affection

then told me “life is there for taking

if you are a winner into the making”

but later found that makes no sense

when life is nothing without direction.


“They are old” – I told myself about my eyes

the mirror spoke of passing times

my mother’s words of love and sadness

a distant memory lost in the madness

of every day, and all I see with these old eyes

are long gone dreams within the rhymes-






In caged freedom I wish to touch above the sky

but arms while strong will not suffice

and didn’t teach my wings to fly-

A cage of gold becomes the life I ever known

and seems so far as ever flown

was in my dreams,

but real they seemed

with strongest wings I flew so far

that when I reached to touch the sky,

I touched a star-


“Reach high, for stars lie hidden in your soul. Dream deep, for every dream precedes the goal.”

– Pamela Vaull Starr





Such fear that I’m late-

I woke up too late from a long spun dream

on butterfly wings that later flew away

and I fear I’m late.

Life just passed me by and never said goodbye

so I never knew I would wake up late

‘til I heard the flap when the wings collapsed

on my butterfly, and my dreams just died,

as I woke up late-


“Don’t you ever get the feeling that all your life is going by and you’re not taking advantage of it? Do you realize you’ve lived nearly half the time you have to live already?”

― Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises





It is sad how life changes, emotions dwindle

as the light of passion with the years subside-

And I try to hold on, something must be worth

to keep tucked away when it’s cold outside

and loneliness grabs on, something left to spindle

in the everyday that was left from life-

Moving on it’s easier if there’s a place to go

and fresh ground to sow seeds we never scattered,

hoping maybe passion finds a place to rise

and in late Spring blooming our dreams left shattered

into something new may then sprout and grow.



“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.”

― Robert Louis Stevenson

The Journey


The Journey


Half-way or more,

farther from the start than from the end

but not close enough to see the shore,

if there is one to see.

And I know my way but journeys can be tough

without anyone helping with the sails-

I remind you then how much lost at sea

I have found myself, lost in many trails

and so many times, with no motivation

to continue searching for a greener grass

in the other side, but at last I learned

to embrace the journey regardless where it leads,

everything must pass, nothing is for keeps

but to know the journey is what matters most

and not the destination.



“Not all those who wander are lost.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Love More, Worry Less



Love More, Worry Less


Our worries consuming lives

intermissions of love in our daily play,

not enough love, too much worry,

too late at times to say sorry-

Sorry I wasted my life lost in lies

of being, on my way lost.

Sorry I let you go way back

when I ran stray.

Sorry I didn’t know the cost

of loving and letting go.

Sorry for years gone

past my door.

But there is no right or wrong

sorry does not mean we owe

a life of perdition,

so worry less and love more-