A giant rises — towering, proud, severe, Yet check the sun before you yield to fear; For oft a dwarf, by stretching out his hand, Can throw a giant's shadow on the land. It is not the wind that drives the course you sail; The set of your own sails will tell the tale. The storm may roar, the sky may fall to grey — The sail decides if you advance or stray. The clever man will not o...

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Lost among the nameless crowd, A quiet ghost, no cries allowed. Drifting shadows, passing by, No hello, no wondering why. A life unbound, yet bound so tight, A flickering flame in endless night. The world it speaks, but not to me, A dialect I’ll never see. I tried to stand where others meet, But tripped upon my own two feet. Their laughter rang, a foreign sound, A melody I’ve neve...

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For me, there should be roses raining,
A sky of wonders, never waning.
The world should twist, turn on its head,
And all its worries left unsaid.

 

At sixteen, I dreamt with quiet fire,
To reach the heights, to never tire.
To claim my place, to stand my ground,
With every voice, I’d make a sound.

 

And later, I longed for something grand,
To see the world, to understand.
Not lo...

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A man once pondered, dream in hand,

How he might cross that spectral band,

To vault beyond his outline’s trace,

And claim a feat none could erase.

 

He tried at dawn and chased at noon,

Yet found his mark had slipped too soon;

For every leap left only doubt—

His outline lingered all about.

 

Until one night, a figure stood,

In quiet dusk, beneath a hood.

A pract...

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I sit on the waiting seat on the station,

Not alone,

Many friends are waiting as well,

We share the same destination.

 

Not long after, the train arrives.

I look at my ticket,

"Ah, not my train", I say.

Some friends board,

They wave their hands,

We exchange smiles,

I'm left with the unfinished puzzle in my hand.

 

Not long after, another train arrives.

I l...

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I am nobody

When my career is gone

I am nobody

When my money is gone

I am nobody

When my name is gone

I am nobody

When my body is gone

I am nobody!

I am no body?!

I am a nobody who puts some glitter on

I am a no body who I call Myself

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And why are you still in my head? 

In my chest,

In my soul?

Engulfed by disdain, disgust and love.

And I am so lone.

 

In the middle of Oxford Street crowds

I want your advice that never helped

I want your forehead kisses that I rejected.

Longing for you on dark silent nights.

 

To debate: am I ever truly alone?

Or does your phantomlike presence ignite and guide...

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your fingertips are pulsing

from all that touchlessness

where do you leave your fingerprints

when no human skin is around?

 

your hands sniff touch

sniff skin

and they find you

tangled being, hanging plant

with your roots in the clouds

 

you touch yourself and discover

that you have human skin

below your mind's weeds

underneath you vegetal body

so you i...

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I am an Architecture 

Something built with 

Pure beauty

Something built with 

A mind that makes

Beautiful art 

Something built with 

A heart that never stops 

Loving

A heart that has it’s

Own language 

I am an architecture 

That has never been 

Explored 

Or 

Understood 

I am Everything 

All in one..

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Who Am I? And where do I belong?

Where do I go right? Where did I go wrong?

Was it real or fake love I was shown all along?

Am I really that mentally tough & strong?

If I fail, Will I momentairly freeze or stay froze?

Will I dig up a pile of dirt in my back yard & find a bunch of diamonds & gold?

Or am I to die a failure, lonely, & old?

This the type of mindset the old me was ...

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Focused on piercing eyes, light hazel abyss

I reached down earnestly past orbiting hips

Fingers parting engorged velvety lips

To find within a now aching, sensitive tip.

 

Writhing, squirming

Unprepared and panicked

Intensity unparalleled

Myself, I know not what to do with.

 

Tears, laughter

All consuming heat and fleeting chills

Dreams are becoming reality

A...

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Enchanting, charming

Kind and caring.

How I fall for this disarming lie

Cunning, swift

Capturing and setting adrift.

A mind so confused

Looking for a missing muse.

 

There was a sign

Didn’t you see?

A warning of note

But no, you let it free.

 

Heart so soft and bruised

She doesn’t need to be used

But…it’s her fault

She must bring it to a halt

 

...

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what used to hurt me

still does

what used to scare me

still does

what used to make me curl up on the floor

shaking to my very core

still does

 

I am constantly afraid that one day

I will come face to face with my mistakes

a tableau of painful regrets and aches

the times I said I couldn’t when I could

the times I said I wouldn’t when I would

 

the past stil...

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We sit, splintered against skin:

Hieroglyphs spouting complex symbols

From untamed mouths; bodies

Perspiring pits, dropping brows,

Salting welted wounds;

 

Trying desperately to be brave,

Behave in ways we have always been seen,

Glean the truth of who we are,

What we’ve become,

What we do, what we’ve done;

 

Wrestling Rottweilers,

Unmeshing masquerades,

Be...

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Who am I?
Am I all my mashed up mishaps,

Looping, creping, paper chaining through?

Am I clogs of wallpaint stains in

Bedded lanes of devine daisy dew?

Am I rivets, ratchets, harsh lines,

Chiseled by stilettoed hue?

All these thoughts, feelings and instincts;

Which are true?

I sup the type of other mother tongues,

And still ask you....

Who am I?

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"Like peeling an onion" you said.
No.
More; unseaming
Slipped stitches,
Knotted aims,
Frayed edges.

Hunchbacked,
Peddling metal
Over punched pins,
Threading maydays into cloth.

Fingers fumbling at loose seams,
Unravelling weaves,
Desperate hems,
Moth eaten, scrapped themes.

Now, all I am is an empty spool,
Someone's discarded thimble.

Rethread.
Try the pattern again.

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Another attempt at my paternal tongue.

Un altro tentativo di mia lingua paterna.

And though I beam with pride as I'm learning.

E anche se mi fascio con orgoglio, come sto imparando.

I'm aware that translated, the metre is wrong.

Sono consapevole del fatto che tradotto, lo strumento è sbagliato.

But this language pulsates to my yearning.

Ma questo linguaggio pu...

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