In shadows’ grasp, poetry fades,
As tyranny’s hand its touch pervades.
Words silenced, whispers repressed,
Art’s beauty robbed, hearts distressed.

Authoritarian terror tightens its grip,
Constraining thoughts, freedoms slip.
Verses wilt, ink runs dry,
Imagination caged, creativity denied.

But even amidst the darkest of days,
Resistance thrives, in subtle ways.
Poetry’s spirit, resilient and bold,
Defies oppression, its power untold.

For art, in its essence, can never be tamed,
Its whispers of truth, forever unchained.
In defiance of terror, it will rise anew,
Inspiring hearts, reminding what’s true.

So let us stand firm, united in rhyme,
Against oppression, one stanza at a time.
For poetry’s soul, a beacon of light,
Shall prevail over darkness, shining bright.

:: 05.26.2023 ::

The Eye’s Smile

The eye’s smile is a window into this Heart
Imperfectly held
Have not those who know — a poet is concealed
within the walls of solid words
for fear it be torn down

:: 0.24.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

  1. The Eye’s Smile: A poet would consider this as the soul’s way of expressing itself. The eye’s smile might stand for the inner emotions, thoughts, and soul of a person, which they might not otherwise express verbally. A Jungian perspective would also suggest that the ‘eye’s smile’ represents the conscious aspect of an individual – what is seen on the surface.
  2. A Window into this Heart: This phrase suggests a pathway to deeper, more intimate emotions or truths. Both a Nobel laureate poet and Carl Jung would appreciate this sentiment. A poet might interpret this as the capacity of art (in this case, poetry) to reveal the innermost feelings of the human heart. Jung, who believed in the concept of individual and collective unconscious, would interpret this as the possibility to access deeper layers of the psyche, beyond the surface level that is immediately visible.
  3. Imperfectly Held: This line might be understood by a poet as the human inability to perfectly contain or express emotions. Jung might see this as an acknowledgment of the imperfect nature of our conscious awareness, and the constant tension between our conscious self and the unconscious.
  4. A poet is concealed within the walls of solid words: A poet would interpret this as the idea that a poet’s true essence and spirit are hidden within the poetry they create. Poetry is often seen as a construction, a ‘solid’ creation made of words that both express and hide the poet’s true self. From a Jungian perspective, this could relate to the idea of the ‘persona’ – the mask or role that we present to the world – being used to conceal the true self.
  5. For fear it be torn down: Both a poet and Jung would recognize the fear of vulnerability inherent in this line. The poet fears that their true self may be exposed or misunderstood through their work, while Jung might relate this to the fear of confronting and integrating the shadow aspect of the psyche, which can be a difficult and fear-inducing process.


(But Love Never Forgotten)

In twilight’s cloak, I sit and ponder,
As raindrops fall, the world grows fonder.
Thoughts of thee, the city divine,
Thy cheeks adorned, where smiles align.
Half-thrush, half-angel, thine eyes do gleam,
With drowsy lips, where kiss-flowers dream.
Oh, how thine hair pirouettes so shy,
A dance, a song, my soul’s sweet lullaby.
Rarely beloved, like a lone star’s light,
In darkest hour, thou guide my sight.
In whispered breaths, I conjure thy grace,
For thee, dear one, my heart finds its place.
Oh, dead lover, with words profound,
Thou’d understand the love I have found,
In nature’s realm and depths of the mind,
Where longing whispers, and solace we find.


Rarely beloved, like a lone star’s light,
In the darkest hour, you’re my guiding sight.
In whispered breaths, I conjure your grace,
For you, dear one, my heart finds its place.

Oh, Emily Dickinson, with words profound,
You’d understand the love I have found,
In nature’s realm and depths of the mind,
Where longing’s whispered, and solace we find.

:: 05.23.2023 ::



  cause when i lose my mind

half of migratory birds

sing within a circle /

Round about
  inside my molten volcanic mouth

as Beauty deafens

then Makes them follow the appearance
of a burning shadow of their echo’d
unknown ~~

The personal echo is wide to blaze
The carriage of mine canary birds
dying but singing, “I feel this one”

The carriage defends its passengers alive.

Calcium passengers

CADMIUM   difference of dawn
without her permission

Hot rigid detached dreams
Legs as if they speak in her two herself
And she answers herself as she herself runs
How can she fly in role of invisible island

I am the dead I am the living I am the poet
I am the sun I drown your parched throat
inside our heads we keep living and dreaming
and crying and weeping

One dream is simply of love.

:: 05.22.2023 ::

Continue reading


My Beloved Flower,

With each stroke of my quill, I strive to capture the essence of our love, a symphony that defies mortal boundaries.

Above the chessboard city, our love reigns, thundering like polished leather, illuminating our world in a burst of radiant light.

Confusion and wonder intertwine as I stand amidst waves, snow, and the brilliance of a gathered hand.

Within this surreal realm, I yearn to hold you, my jungle child, in the depths of my half-opened heart, a diamond of ecstasy.

Your presence fills me with boundless delight, igniting words that transform into a phosphorescent fern, a delirious dance of change.

You are my lost goddess, guiding me with your enchanting song.

Between pillows, your eyes hold a reserve of air, defying logic as a woman without arms or a star without roots.

Our love resides amidst the petrified rain, where pleasure lingers, awakening the dawn with two doors, moving and informing the winds that beckon the tigers.

Amidst misfortunate furniture, our love intervenes in fierce dreams, defending against venomous snakes. It emanates light, illuminating like a bud from a silver tree, leaving unique footprints upon the vibrant carpet.

In this realm, shadows graze with sparkling vanity, mirroring maritime volcanoes. The tumult of stones echoes through the depths of my soul. Hear, my love, for this symphony is composed solely for you.

Yours forever,

This Gentle Poet


(When Mind Sleeps)

Shadows seeping / weeping back reflections
measured passion, hand-to-hand passion
tears upon cherished faces, lantern of white rice
which face fully morning singing birds glides
as Souls, through windy tongues

In everything I return in side my heart
Suspending the feet upon toes of my marble
Sweeping breath turning love’s headlights
raising hands with love

As from the very last house of my mouth.
Disgust was the moon with melan choly
speaks lost dreams ~~ only dreams we
see while weeping silently at night

:: 0.23.2023 ::



Whence does the self emerge, as I unbind from the glacial bloom?
What adoration lingers within that feminine reverie’s realm?
In love’s force, betwixt ecstasy’s embrace,
Where his palm parts the captured gull,
Unconscious eyes disclose intricate tales,
Veiling existence’s essence, that which conceals.


I hold affinity for all that resides,
Shadowy whispers of quotidian nourishment,
A vessel’s wake, fading into oblivion’s grasp.

‘Tis the tremor of the abyss, embracing abundance,
A woman donning stockings of ethereal velvet.

Arrange, we must, the waves, diverse and arrayed,
The melancholy, thou embodiment,
Or one who, world idolized, ventures forth,
Knees adorned with wings, poised mid passion’s flight,
Within love’s central day,
I shall never deceive, but embrace entirety’s plight.
Freedom, mine, in its cruelest form,
Behold the insular artistry,
Where danger finds solace, its taste revered.

Love, the transgressor of societal norms,
Customs yet to be acquired, in anticipation we wait,
Love, exalted, with all its rightful claims,
And the ever-transforming world,
Glimpsed through kaleidoscopic gazes, each day anew.

:: 05.21.2023 ::


As the sun, voracious and insatiable, swallowed my existence whole,
I embarked on a solitary journey, akin to a shapeless cloud, untethered and untold,
Drifting aimlessly, transcending the earthly realm, high above vales and hills,
Enveloped in a realm of ethereal stillness, where time itself stands still.

But in a moment of celestial revelation, the sun’s fiery gaze unveiled a surreal sight,
A gathering, an assemblage, a congregation of daffodils aglow in golden light,
Their radiant presence forming a host, a legion of nature’s finest art,
Bathing the landscape in hues of yellow, a masterpiece played out from the heart.

Beside the tranquil lake, beneath the majestic trees’ verdant embrace,
Those golden daffodils came alive, imbued with grace,
Fluttering delicately, as if whispering secrets to the zephyr’s gentle caress,
Dancing in harmonious unity, a mesmerizing spectacle I couldn’t suppress.

In the embrace of the sun’s all-consuming power, their beauty shone bright,
Each petal, a brushstroke, painting a portrait of pure delight,
Their collective presence, a testament to the wonders of Earth’s fertile ground,
A reminder that even in the vastness of existence, such miracles can be found.

And so, in the midst of my celestial consumption, a profound truth was revealed,
That nature’s symphony transcends all barriers, all illusions skillfully concealed,
For even as the sun devoured my being, a transcendent connection took hold,
Binding me to the daffodils’ dance, a memory I would forever behold.

Thus, as the sun continued its celestial feast, devouring me bit by bit,
I remained enraptured by the daffodils’ presence, their eternal spirit lit,
For in their graceful dance and vibrant hue, a profound lesson unfurled,
That even in the face of oblivion, beauty and life can forever thrive in this vast world.

:: 05.21.2023 ::


In the realm of alleyways, where hope flickers dim,
No solace found, as shadows gently weep,
Even you, my Princess, in cardboard chambers grim,
Gaze at the stars, shivering in love’s keep.

Deep within my chest, a rare heart beats,
A secret name, known only to my soul,
But on your lips, its truth, destiny meets,
When daylight’s rays illuminate the stroll.

With a tender touch, the silence shall break,
That binds our fates, entwined in this street dance,
No passerby shall hear the name we make,
United, forever, in our love’s expanse.

Oh, vanish, moon! Fade, streetlights burning bright!
As dawn awakes, love triumphs in the night!

:: 05.16.2023 ::


Nel regno dei vicoli, dove la speranza svanisce,
Nessun conforto trovato, mentre le ombre piangono sommessamente,
Anche tu, mia principessa, in cupe camere di cartone,
Guarda le stelle, tremanti nella fortezza dell’amore.

Nel profondo del mio petto batte un cuore raro,
Un nome segreto, noto solo alla mia anima,
Ma sulle tue labbra, la verità di lui, il destino incontra,
Quando i raggi del giorno illuminano la strada.

Con un tocco tenero, il silenzio si romperà,
Che lega i nostri destini, intrecciati in questo ballo di strada,
Nessun passante sentirà il nome che facciamo,
Uniti, per sempre, nella distesa del nostro amore.

Oh, sparisci, luna! Dissolvenza, lampioni che bruciano luminosi!
Quando l’alba si sveglia, l’amore trionfa nella notte!

A Short Screen Play


A bustling square filled with poets, listeners, and the melodies of words being spoken. OLIVER, a boy with dreamy eyes and a notebook in hand, stands on one side. AMELIA, a girl with a radiant smile and a collection of poems, stands on the other side. They both glance at each other from afar, their curiosity piqued.


CLOSE-UP of Oliver, captivated by Amelia’s sparkling eyes.


CLOSE-UP of Amelia, enchanted by Oliver’s genuine smile.

Their gazes lock, and an invisible thread seems to pull them closer. With the crowd swirling around them, they instinctively navigate towards each other, finding solace in a quiet corner of the festival.


Oliver and Amelia stand face to face, their hearts pounding. Their words flow effortlessly, weaving tales of love, loss, and the beauty within. The world around them fades away as their connection deepens.

OLIVER (whispering) Your words touch my soul, Amelia.

AMELIA (softly) And yours, Oliver, paint pictures in my heart.

Their eyes lock, brimming with unspoken emotions. In a moment suspended in time, they lean in, their lips meeting in a tender, magical kiss. It is a collision of longing and understanding—a profound union of two poet souls.

The air crackles with electricity as they break apart, their eyes shimmering with promises.

OLIVER (whispering) We’ve discovered a love beyond words.

AMELIA (smiling) Together, our poems will become symphonies.

They hold each other, understanding the profound connection they share.


:: 05.16.2023 ::