ask the desert about miracles

golden hills,
gleaming with the tears
of a thousand forgotten souls.

all bodies are swallowed by the sea,
all love is consumed by the fire,
and all wanderers end up in the desert sands.

i watch the horizon,
disbelieving when the sun and the moon
appear next to each other,
to wish me good night,
promising to be here when i wake up.

an eye for an eye

the darkness keeps me company,
the cold hugs me at night,
the terror is my shadow
and unending sorrow, my companion.

uncomprehending when i try to shake them off,
they are hurt by my rejection.
my attempt to abandon them
is met with scared disbelieving eyes.

the night hopes the sun will never rise,
the moon, prays for a world of darkness.

the sun, the master of the universe,
cares for no man, no woman, no lover, no friend.

he rises, bestows his warmth on the world,
like a gift that one cannot refuse.
his smile can almost stop the world from turning,
his eyes shine, lit by the innocence of his soul,
his arms around you, can dispel even the blackest dark.

but he always leaves at sunset,
turns in without a second thought,
behind the curtain of the horizon,
deep into the sea, lulled to sleep by the waves
fingers running through his hair
to conjure up the best of dreams.

the sea is a graveyard

somebody once said,

that missing you

is just another way

of saying

i love you. 

i've never heard anything more false.

love leaves you wanting more. 

but missing you is like drowning in a sea

that has been set on fire. 

missing you is 

lying awake at night,

in the darkness,

trying not to think of your arms around me,

trying not to sleep

so that i don't have to dream of you.

missing you is like waking up 

and looking around an empty house

that is full of clues to where i can find you.

missing you means knowing

that you will never miss me back. 

happy lovers day

i'm a simple person,

without too many demands.

today

i only ask

for a photo of roses 

that are meant for someone else. 

if you've got time

he has all the time in the world
to ignore you.

smile and oblige.
someday,
he will realise
that you don't smile anymore.

if you've got wings

There was once this bird
Thin and fast
With wide wings that could block out the sun.
It was a smart bird, hated small talk and frivolous flying
In fact it pretty much hated flying
And preferred resting its wings
And going only where it needed
When it felt the need.

You couldn't call it a loner
But it did prefer sitting alone on a wire
Moving away when disturbed
To avoid the small talk.
Most of the time, it refused invitations to drinks nearby.

It liked the sunset more than the sunrise
And liked to watch children go to school at dawn.

You couldn't call it suicidal
But one day it decided to stop flying forever.
And after crossing an empty field on foot,
It stepped across a pond, getting its feathers wet,
And walked into a fence.
Not knowing it was electrified,
Although a sign did mention it,
In clear red-and-white font.
But birds can't read.

So it lay on the floor,
A mangled heap of black shiny feathers peppered with red reminders,
Breathing in and out slowly
For what seemed like a long time.

The sun had set
The children's bags were ready fort next day school
And a lonely wire swung slowly in the night breeze.

Nobody really missed the lonely bird.
A few heard the story
And shook their heads sadly and vowed to always fly higher
Than the fences of the men down below.