It is almost
always
the fireworks
and illumination,
champagne pops
and jubilation
that signal the naissance
of a new year.
But may a quieter light
find you
this year;
like a gentle beam of sun
warming
through the windows
A sunrise here to stay,
not fleeting fireworks
barely passing over shadows.
Every battle
turns war.
Like an interlude
rising into chorus.
Swords moving through the silhouettes,
and the vital red
falls
to the floor
Just like that minor chord
that makes the score.
Silence.
Stillness.
Peace.
Fulfillness.
Watching
the quiet roads.
Watching the clouds
cry to the earth
in despair. View Post
Not beautiful.
Not “aesthetic”.
Not wonderful.
No exquisite epiphany.
No great thoughtful story.
Just simple
broken
life.
An image
of ordinary strife. View Post
I decide everyday
that I won’t write about you today.
That I won’t drop what I’m doing
to watch you walk past me,
that I won’t stop to listen
when you speak to all but me.
Yes, I decide everyday
that I won’t be so obsessive. View Post
In a place where yellow sandstone buildings imbue a golden light to the city, one can’t help but believe in magic. The expert craftsmanship of the historical architecture of Jaisalmer makes the stone come alive; there are stories etched into the carvings, and regality transcends time. Just standing in one of the palace gardens can transport you to the old world of royalty, imperial celebrations, and ethnic luxury.
View Post
Rated the third happiest city in the world, Reykjavík is Iceland’s largest city and lies on the coast. “Reykjavík” roughly translates to “Cove of Smoke” in English, which may be attributed to the volcanoes and smoke around what is now the capital city of Iceland. With its distinctive seasons, the best time to travel to Reykjavík is between June and August, when the sun shines almost twenty-four hours a day and the weather is mild and pleasant. View Post
Love
remains a question.
Its meaning.
Its virtue.
Its essence—
an illusion.
Unanswered
through the ages,
yet legislated
in poems. View Post
Le coucher du soleil
par-delà les montagnes,
sa beauté,
sa doré,
et le ciel teinté
en amour
du soleil.
Et l’amour du soleil
est le ciel brun-doré.
La couleur du soir
lorsqu’il part l’azuré.
They reach up
and caress the stars.
There are the gushes
and gleams
of joy.
The merrymaking
of love
in nature.
With you,
loyalty is destiny.
An instinct
I can’t fight
I don’t want to fight.
Because
it is that much of me
that resides in you,
that I
am the surrender.
That I
am the defeat
of my heart. View Post
Roaming through the woods,
I’ve been seeking
that scentless purity
to fill my soul,
to revive me,
to renew me…
…to forgive me.
