Sometimes it slips away,
grasping tight a dizzying spiraling
of days, wasted time-
Inside its comforting,
seems forever unchanged
but the carcass was arranged
in such a way to mimic life,
smile, find cadence and rhyme
while the spiraling goes on,
grasping tight
sometimes it slips away-

What Matters


Does it matter

 how the journey begins?

Nor the end it’s important

but what falls in between,

what I love, what I cherish,

all I hold in my hands

and the adventures

I find every day,

my desires and my wants,

what it’s gone

and what stayed.

It does matter

when my life almost done

I find truth in my fears.

But I try to live well

and not look at the years

but to love

and to cherish

all I hold in my hands,

every day at a time

make it worth,

make it mine!


Heaven’s Dreams


Heaven’s Dreams


I wonder if in death we take dreams

somewhere in our cells scattered loose

through the years, dreams we choose

to feed our souls and become a light,

and maybe in death to shine the way

by dreams we take to eternal night

and shape a heavens that we pray

becomes in death a life of dreams.






Oh, how the flame not so bright

flickers softly through the night

in the warm of late May Spring

understanding all shall pass

when to life I’ll strongly cling.


And then think how to surpass

while I slowly raise the glass

dreams I weaved left unclaimed

none to see none to behold

while in wine I sooth the pain.


What I have I cannot hold

all was left out in the cold

and a flame that was so bright

flickers softly through the night.







One last look, the fading of dreams come morning

dissipates in the light where shadows forming

at night bring fears- not enough time to learn

the meaning, things past, holding on to the yearn

of new love, and a touch, and a kiss, and goodbyes.

One last look, understanding the truth behind lies

reflected an image conceived in the darkness

for in blindness, closed eyes can bring sharpness

to the heart, to the mind of a tired old soul.

Once was young, now I’m old, sometimes cold

wraps the heart stripping hope for new day

when my dreams slowly fade and won’t stay.

One last look, for the love always hide in plain sight

blindness set on a distance, nights incite,

lost in dreams dissipating in light.



Another Day


Another Day


Wrapped in the warm of today

slowly dropping life’s bread crumbs

to return another day

if coldness finds me once more.

And approaching distant shore

every step I take becomes

easier with the right direction

as I set sail again and again

if how does not matter but when

I will reach my destination.







Handful of scraps,

broken pieces,

erased images of sin

leftover in every cycle

of regressing.

Where do I begin

or where do I end?

Always fall in the traps

left scattered

across the skin

heavy with desires.

Heaven’s doors mend

if burned in the fires

of humanity-

My reality,

a cycle,

Where do I begin

or where do I end?