poetry

Poetry is the habit of making a drop of light in the darkness.

I turn away reluctant from your light,And stand irresolute, a mind undone,A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sightFrom having looked too long upon the sun.Then is my daily life a narrow roomIn which a little while, uncertainly,Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,Among familiar things grown strange to meMaking my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,Till I become accustomed to the dark.

Moon is a superstar to a neon lightBoth are in doubt of their lifeless plight One envies the sun, the other one__ scared But to face the dark they__e always prepared

Shower the darkness with loveand watch light illuminate.

Give me one more night to taste the darkWhen wolves imitate a lone dog's bark Let those secrets remain unspoken Fallen angel's heart now lover's token Light grows dim burying riddle__ death Just breathe to free your one last breath

I keepholding upthe mirror of the sun,so you can see the stunningreflections of everythingyou__e becom-ing.

You can'tstop dreamingjust becausethe night neverseems toend.

Last night your thin walls invited me to the party next door / reminded me I am a quiet person in a quiet life.

Down on my knees / I peel back the layers of the world.

Like the best convenience store in the world, / the mind is always open.

They__e close. Voices loud and fierce, Slapping faces with words. A scream _ A cry _ They__e getting closer.Did I lock the door? It__ too late to check. They__e coming. I barely move, barely breathe. Perhaps they__l go away. But they__e getting closer.The door slams against the wall. My eyes squeeze shut. This curtain is not a shield. They__e here. They__e come for me. I freeze.Metal rings clank together. My barrier is cast aside. Wearily, I look. Reddened eyes glower at one another _ But not at me. I wonder.A moment of silence _ Water streams down my face. Steam rolls around my flesh. I glare at the intruders And slide the curtain between us. I wait.He shrieks, __he took my glow stick!_ She howls, __o, I didn__!_ I scowl. __o tell your father about it.__hey leave. I inhale the lavender mist. Slather bubbles over my skin. Five more minutes _ And, next time, I shall lock the door.

We are the reflections for the stars to gaze upon, upon a sea of glass.

Today, find a point of stillness: brief, but precious slight, but full small, but luminously real. Find a point stillness in the balance of all things between the breathing out and breathing in.

Poetry is the way that we transcend language through language. And thus our freedom lies in the poetry of all things

MOMWholeheartedly,She loved me-And inspired me-With transcending devotion.It was a blessing-To have been her son,To have been loved-Without conditions.Her words of wisdom-Opened my eyes-To the world-And to myself.By seeing the best in me, She empowered me.By believing in me, She transformed me.She grew old-And floated away,But her love remains standing-Eternally by my side.

Dream by making and make by dreaming.

Going down in history is a dead end pursuit

The night is still waiting.