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Literature
The Alchemist
You place your faith
In the maps and charts
Of fools.
You seek what God could never give
To those mighty Conquistadors,
Resplendent buffoons in pantaloons
Searching for a lie.
The fire dances tonight
In your inkwells and your elements.
It overlooks
The shirts, phantom-pressed,
And countless cups of tea
Undrunk, now cold.
The gold
You really desire lies beyond
The Aztecs and the Incas. It lurks
In you. Drag it out, screaming,
Into the pitch midnight
And then, maybe, you will see:
The treasure was always here.
You just needed to claim it.
Literature
The Gardener
i bloomed and blossomed at your touch
and waited patiently to be plucked:
lay among daisies in fields
danced between roses in gardens
swayed with jasmine in courtyards,
never once questioning whether i belonged
for i knew the only place i wanted to be
was on your windowsill for the world to see.
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
Suggested Collections
but truth flows away
from troubled minds, thin lies replacing
heavily veiled pain
The truth is not always the answer, for many would angered by open honesty. And so I bottle up the feelings, even from those who are closest and instead fight solo.
from troubled minds, thin lies replacing
heavily veiled pain
The truth is not always the answer, for many would angered by open honesty. And so I bottle up the feelings, even from those who are closest and instead fight solo.
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