sentience

to love
is to lead and follow,
and follow a lead.

-teamwork

standing, with wind & passerby

your fingers curl, but loosely
hair tucked neatly behind left ear-
you've long waited for it to grow;
but how casually the wind teases and blows
like ribbons that unravel, strands kiss your cheek
impatiently you yearn to trim it short again

the passerby and passengers share paths
the beige floral lace blouse do little to disguise-
for you are just one of them, on a busy street

My writing space;

Though I sit on the bed, with four walls around me, I am not here. Physically, these walls have enveloped almost four years of sweetness and turbulence. Through these walls by busy Bronson Ave I've spilled words. Letters, after letters collect themselves into words...to phrases...and sentences. They form images of memory. Or an escapism-

A creation of my inner reality. From dissonances, calamity. To cacophony of ecstasies. In my proses and poetries. But I do not seek agreement nor do I vouch for sympathy. These lines are mine, as they have always been. To release into the airwaves, for no other purposes than simply to release. Like everything else in life, there is a need to let go.

When I write, I let go. Sometimes a part of me. Sometimes nothing, but empty alphabets. 

The inner I, sits by a dock. Lulled by a sea's breeze. Gazing into the distance, of a sun setting sky. There are no walls where she sits. Just vastness. But she knows, the time will come again. To face a different sky...

& maybe she doesn't know where she is going. Perhaps she may sail on a wafting yacht. Or find her feet in a foreign soil, hopelessly leaving her heart in places where nobody knows her name but she calls home. She has done so in the physical and inner moments of her life.

But she knows, wherever it be, she is on the right path & never alone. Even if destiny throws a detour worth traversing, they serve to direct and reassure. Not hinder. This she has learned, from the four years surrounded by four walls that accompany. 

dimpled.

there's a pinch, on your cheek 

I'd like to pocket when you smile

for a dime, if I could.

light & weight

happiness is like a helium filled balloon
rising up, lightly drifting

& lost into the night

accompanying the heavy moon

sweetness is sinking my teeth in sugar

that stains my tongue pink, and puckers my lips

to curl on the sides, 

with my eyes merrily squinting

Home

I took a walk yesterday afternoon with Christine. We visited the same Champlain statue as we did last year....

I heard the cathedral bells complimenting the chimes of Parliament Hill at 6pm. So distant, yet distinct. Of course the hopeless romantic in me couldn't help but ponder about poetic relationship of both clock towers. Such, that I teased Christine into writing a poem about it, which she did.

Focusing on my breaths, anticipating its edges & depth into the core of my lungs. I breathed Ottawa. While staring at the landscape of the city.

I was nostalgic. But I couldn't understand what for...

Places steal souls where people leave footprints.

The acoustic body & metaphysical me

When my calloused fingertips are positioned in line to the metal strings,
Pressed hard against the wooden body,
& my right forefinger tugs and pulls-
Prompting vibration

Resonating into the airwaves

Swirling away with it; my reasoning

& echoing into the corners of my core-
As if the muscles on shoulders unloosen themselves from skin
Relieved from gravity

The metaphysical me escapes into the breeze

Ever so carelessly

Turbulence

They are two wanderers,
Your soul and mine
They know nothing of time

& it has always been of presence-

In spite of seas, turbulence & distances.

Eggs

He who breaks hearts like eggs, should be baked into an oven and eaten whole.

Faith and theories have one thing in common. They are like lenses that make you see things differently.

Ever afters

It is not happy ever after that I seek for,
But that I manage to find happiness, struggle if I have to & be beside you-
Even at our lowest.

Oath

In my life,
& every breath
the spaces between exhalations;

Between heartbeats

be You.

Ever felt your soul lift and sink at the same time?