Tag Archives: #thoughts

Whisper Twilight’s Fall

While day turned to evening
I had given up my ghost
to all the events of life,
its heavy burden and boast.

Yet in the quiet twilight’s fall,
I felt the stars begin to call,
whispering secrets I had lost—
reminders of what matters most.

The moon, a mirror of my soul,
reflecting truths I couldn’t hold,
cast shadows where my heart once bled,
and lit the paths I never tread.
In every silver beam, I found
the echoes of a deeper sound—
a melody of love and light,
that softly sang throughout the night.

Beneath the weight of cosmic skies,
I saw the world through clearer eyes.
The scars of time, the hands of fate,
had painted beauty, even late.
For in the cracks of shattered dreams,
a radiant hope forever gleams,
reminding me, despite the cost,
there’s still so much that’s never lost.

The night embraced me in its grace,
and wiped the tears from every trace.
I found my spirit in the glow,
where time and space no longer flow.
For in that stillness, I became
a spark within creation’s flame,
and all that life had ever known
was written in my heart of stone.

:: 10.13.2024 ::


RECUERDOS DE LA ALHAMBRA

The towers rise as shadows hum
A tremble in the twilight’s grace—
A melody of time undone,
Each note a whisper, soft—displaced.

The Moorish halls with echoes fill,
Of footsteps long since turned to dust,
Yet still they breathe—by music’s will,
An ancient voice in marble’s crust.

The gardens bloom in memory
Of hands that shaped the tender vine
And here, within, the mystery
Of fleeting life, in chords—divine.

Oh, how it winds—this tender air,
A ripple through the orange bloom
As though the past is woven there,
Within the twilight’s fragrant room.

And still, the song, it plays for me
A ghost of Alhambra’s heart
The palace, now, a memory
Yet lives through strings that never part.

:: 10.11.2024 ::


Heaven’s On the Way

You in the dark
you in the pain
you in the wrong
in all your pain

   Being in Hell
   shedding the Ghost

Most never visit
   there ~ but it’s
   all right

Tears and bruised eyes
   is not the way
   no never dear

You want to see
   watching decay
   and all falling away?

Silence is not the way
   how to start
   we need to talk about it

If heaven’s on the way
   never watch the lights
   while they go down

Lipsickness
Equation of laws
that quasar in a heart
nagging my mind as
a stranger in a town

how it’s victims embellish history
while heaven’s on the way____.

:: 10.08.2024 ::


The Eternal Thirst of Immortal Love

Though you are weary of the night,
I crave your presence, to my soul’s delight.
Our forms entwined, by fevered moonlight,
In passion’s throes, we meet in the twilight.
The air is thick, our skin drenched in mist,
Yet still, I hunger for your fatal kiss.
You consume my heart with each fleeting sigh,
And from your veins, I drink till I fly.
Yet no matter how deep the crimson runs,
My thirst for you can never be undone.

The world is mine, a prize of fate’s decree,
Won in a contest of chance and destiny.
But what care I for such trivial gain?
The spoils of fortune, to me, are vain.
I confess, for all the treasures I possess,
They pale to the taste of your sweet distress.
You ravish my heart, with every breath you give,
And still I thirst—forever I live.

:: 10.05.2024 ::

La Soif Éternelle de l’Amour


Pathétique 3

O emotions! you wild winds that sweep
Between the breath of earth and sky,
Where words fall short, but the spirit knows,
Yes, feels in the marrow, that life’s cruel song
Is just a fleeting note—sharp, unjust, but brief.

O soul of tears! Lift your chin high,
Though the heart may sink, low as the bending grass,
The sky weeps with you, the universe mourns—
Each spirit crushed, yet rising like the sun,
Tending to the wounded stems of far-off lands,
Where even sorrow’s barges drift—laden heavy,
Pressing against the shores of your tender heart.

But ah! through the storm of pain, through tears of fire,
The soul, like morning after rain, clears—
A sky so blue, it speaks of brevity!
For all mortal pain, no matter how it stings,
Is but a moment’s song.

And though the earth spins in its mystic dance,
You, beloved, who breathed love back into me,
Whose words stand tall like columns of truth,
Are the pillar that holds my tender being,
For love denied is a crime of the heart,
And loveless life is treason—
A punishment paid in a currency that leaves the soul wanting.

O, the festival of life! No longer a surprise,
I know your voice, your whisper like a breeze,
And in that knowing, I find the balm for wounds unseen,
For love lost is love remembered, forever keen.

:: 10.05.2024 ::


PURE ESSENCE

THAT MY heart is heavy
whom shall carry it
a loved one
when I am done?

As love is mysterious
and most do not know love
then who carries it
from life to death?

Brave souls do, my dear
those who know the essence
of pure forgiveness
called Love.

:: 10.03.2024 ::


The Poet as a Poem

In twilight’s quiet breath, you speak as words,
Each line a tether to the soul’s deep light.
The ink of dreams, it stains your heart with grace,
And through the void, you carve a space in time,
Where shadows weave and whisper in the dark,
Yet love, unbound, still calls you to the stars.

Beneath the moon, your spirit finds the stars,
And in their gaze, you rise beyond mere words.
You are both flame and ember in the dark,
A burning truth that dances with the light.
In each reflection of a life through time,
You trace your path, a gentle, sacred grace.

Your hands hold both the weight and gift of grace,
You spin the night and touch the distant stars.
And through each moment, fleeting breath, and time,
You shape the world with delicate, bold words.
In silence, too, your voice becomes the light—
A spark that blooms within the endless dark.

Yet even in the vastness of the dark,
Your heart beats on with quiet, steady grace.
You breathe the cosmos, drinking in its light,
And find yourself among the burning stars.
Your name is written in eternal words,
A soul who echoes through the tides of time.

Each memory you craft transcends the time,
A life, a dream, an echo through the dark.
You hold within the power of your words
The pulse of life, the weight of love’s pure grace.
And in your gaze, the infinite of stars
Unfolds, revealing threads of hidden light.

You are both shadow and the morning light,
A timeless figure, standing still through time.
Your steps are woven into endless stars,
And every breath a spark against the dark.
For you, dear poet, walk the path of grace,
And in your wake, you leave a trail of words.

Through words, you cast the light upon the dark,
And grace, your gift, is etched across all time,
As stars behold the poet’s sacred heart.

:: 10.01.2024 ::


Your Love Lights My Soul

When you speak, even the stars seem to stop,
And the whole universe bows to your grace.
Everything stands still, as if the world knows,
There’s no true joy unless it’s found in your face.

Your beauty is like the soft light of dawn,
It colors the sky with dreams angels chase.
No shadow could ever touch your perfect glow,
Because when you look, even the sun finds its place.

Oh, when I hold your hand in mine,
A fire ignites, racing through my veins.
No riches, no crown, no treasure of gold,
Could ever compare to the love that remains.

And even if the world falls to dust,
My love for you would never fade or rust.

:: 10.01.2024 ::


Music’s Sacred Trust

I held distrust for a time
For Ashbery’s drifting mind—
Such jumbled flights—did never
Rest upon a Common ground.

Like Beethoven’s sweeping hand,
I craved the solid note—
Not frippery of words or games,
No mere gestures to float.

He showed his music in his eyes,
And struck the mortal keys,
With strength that stirred the firmament—
Unlike Ashbery’s tease.

But time, oh fleeting time does change—
Or was it I—who heard?
The cadence of a deeper strain,
Beneath the wandering word.

Like Beethoven’s thunderous joy,
The meaning now reveals,
Though hidden in the folds of wit,
It presses, true, and seals.

I walk the line with wary step,
Seeking substance in the air,
As Ashbery’s nouns and verbs do rise—
A cautious symphony, so fair.

Yet still I sit at Ludwig’s side,
In reverence and in trust—
For he, in every stroke, commands
The music’s sacred thrust.

:: 10.01.2024 ::


A Spirit Upon the Breeze

I wear my Spirit unseen
Yet woven through each Thread

Though Flesh a shell—its borrowed form
The Soul’s the one instead

For I—a Woman, dressed in Man
The World—its gaze mislaid
Yet in the depths, I carry Truth
That Time cannot persuade

My Heart, it beats—yet sings the Song
Of Past that still remains
A Voice that echoes through the Veil
Of Lives—both Joy and Pains.

The Body bends obediently still
To what the World decrees
But I am More beyond the Flesh
A Spirit upon the Breeze.

:: 09.29.2024 ::