Intimacy (poem #126)


I have so many secrets,

The biggest,

How I feel.

This photo is just one crystal on my chandelier now shattered on the ground,

You have seen more of me than you ever will,

Because this captured the moment everything fell apart,

Truly there is nothing more intimate… 


Choker (Poem #114)

The Choker

I slide it over my neck,

Perfect the placement,

one inch lower or a half an inch higher,

it needs to be perfect,

as if the  placement determines the pressure that reminds me to breath.

Maybe it is more than a fashion statement,

truly it reminds me how precious my life is,

as ever breath I take tugs upon it.

But how would  you know that,

all you see is the piercings,

the tattoo,

and the choker,

securing a memory in your mind of that girl,

not of me.

The Origin of Music(poem #24)

bokeh photo:  150587.jpg

Every great song starts with a melody,

a few notes to make a tune,

a gracious hand strumming along,

to the beat of the heart,

and the whispers of the soul,

that feed the memories,

that were translated to the notes.

You see music is a language,

a deeply routed word,

that no matter the tongue in which it is spoken,

still somehow translates what it means,

because music is more than words,

and more than simply note,

Music is the gateway,

to our hearts,

to our memories,

to our souls.