A Thousand Tiny Dreams

Think of it if you will

A thousand tiny little bubbles as dreams

Each bubble is different in size

Meaning each dream is bigger than others

Everytime you blow a bubble ,is another dream out into the open

If it flies away into the atmosphere

Then it comes true along with other different dreams

But if it pops, then there will be nothin left of that dream

In the end you still have thousand of other dreams that will come true

And you can always make some more

Just by blowing another bubble

Burning Desire

My body is frozen ice

My soul, a raging fire

And your the one who feeds the flame

Of this burning desire

And once the flame has subsided

Whatever has happened yo my heart?

Amidst the destruction and ashes

Was the pain I had from the start

The tears that hurt so much

 

I guess my emotions have a mind of their own

If I spontaneously cry for no apparent reason

Please don’t ask me why because I don’t know even know the answer

Myself lol

I can only hold back so much

Yet I can only hide so much

Behind a smile that’s not even real

I can only laugh it off and wonder

“Why the hell am I crying?”

My emotions are like rain on a sunny day

Sadness will just pop up out of nowhere

Unexpected

I guess its okay to smile

Even if you’re sad  : )

On the other side of Eden

Here’s a very haiku-y poem

 

Amidst the field of cotton,

I could have sworn I heard a lone wolf’s cry

I awake at night

To the autumn rain

 

And the humming of busy dragonflies

The smell of rice cakes and

The freshly brewed melon tea

The winter garden

 

Blooming in the autumn twilight

The old pond

Underneath the old oak

Still waters flow gently

 

The old village

Is at peace

A Wolf Without a Pack

The lone wolf, under the light of the moon

Swiftly travels through the forest at a moderate pace

Alone in the world

He is his own best friend and own worst enemy

His silver coat glistens in the light of the moon

Illuminating his intricate attributes

His pace speeds up and he flies through the undergrowth

Heartbeat speeds of, almost like the beating of a drum

He comes to the peak of the valley

And lets out a long howl to make his self known

Just as he made his way through the forest

The lone wolf returns to the shadows

His best friend and own worst enemy

God’s law of Falling Angels

Once the wings have been plucked

They plummet and fall

Forsaken are they

And doomed to live a live among the mundane

Their memories erased

And their past forgotten

They wake and realize they are no longer in paradise

They walk among us

Could it be the mailman?

The officer who saved your life the other day?

What about the nurse that tended your wound?

Could have been your own mother

All I know is this is the punishment for pride

The worst of the deadly sins

A life forgotten, replaced with new memories

I guess angels do fall…………….

The Aquamarine Light Before Dawn

Where my body lies
I fear I do not know,
But it lies where my heart and soul are
In an unmarked grave
Hidden within the depths of a a silver mirror
Where up above,
Red, gree, yellow, blue and silver fireflies dance
In the light of the pale January moon
And where the silver wolf
Repeats the same song
Night after night
Not knowing how it ends
Yet he continues to sing
Until he can remember how it ends
If I could have only seen the sunrise one last time
And the aquamarine light that shines the brightest before dawn.

Wolves in the desert

Somewhere in this endless sea of sand
A sad heart lies
Buried beneath the dried up sea
Hidden in the wind
A voice from the past
Telling a story of his lust for greed

I can only describe to you in words
The image that comes to mind
A vast garden
Lost in a desert wasteland
A paradise that all hungrily have sought
But could never find
Because their eyes were blinded by the greed
A never ending mist
That those who lust for treasure…could never see through

I can only tell you with words
The beauty and tears it brought to the eyes
Of those untouched by greed

Like a hungry wolf in the desert
Those who are blinded by the greed
Will wander aimlessly forever
In search of treasure that they will never have

A crying, capricous dreamer

A crying, capricous dreamer,
Sat next to me.
He gazed up at the night sky
And wished upon a shooting star
That the pale moon of January
Would hide the morning glow of dawn
And bring forth a night which has no end
This will repeat for many nights
And bring forth a gentle dawn

His fickle dream
Is but a distant memory
He believed it slept within a glimmering sea of stars

As a thousand and one nights passed
He no longer sat next to me
I just wish I could have told him
His dream was a reality all along

He just didnt see it,
He just didnt believe
Even under a star riddled sky

Notes from the Kitchen God

Somewhere…
Amidst the flames and clattering of pots and pans
The wonderful aroma of the food casting a dream-like haze
On all who smell it
Is my life’s story

What started out as a hobby
Is now a profession
The knife tapping on the cutting board
As freshly picked vegetables are being sliced and diced
The boiling water…

And the splashing of ingredients tossed in a pot
A musical harmony composed of everyday sounds
That fills the kitchen
But it was never a hobby…
No it was more than that

It was my life since the beginning
And it will be until my end
I only hope that my pupils have learned
All that I have taught them
Sitting upon a crate of tomatoes

Lazily resting my head in my hand
I no longer see pupils but…..
My own children, family
They rush here and there
Like little tykes running about the playground

Keeping at a moderate pace
Calling out orders
And delicately preparing meals as if they were a piece of artwork
Like and artist to his canvas
And a sculptor to his clay

They are chefs to their work
A smile for a job well done

If cleaning up were as simple as making the mess,
Then life would be a whole lot easier
Dishes washed and put away for another day
And goodbyes for tonight
Make way for good mornings for tomorrow

I guess…
That even after I’m gone
The harmony and rhythm
Will never change this kitchen
I guess…you can truly be a Kitchen God of your own.

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