New Poems

Thick frame, thin glasses,
an old spectacles,
a keep sake,
a rarest inheritance
from my dearest dad.

Crises, tensions, frustrations…
Struggles, triumphs, delights…
Life had left its imprints
on my dad’s spectacles.

It betrayed him never;
guided him always.
It was a mate of his eyes;
nothing could part them
except an attack on heart.

Once he saw me,
now I see him -
all through the same spectacles,
black and white.

Our eyes lock on each other like a missile on its target. Becoming lost in the connection. So focused on finding the good to overshadow the bad that we lose track of time. The same way the moon does the night. We flow along, not minding where we end up. The path we are on will lead us to where we are supposed to be. On that path we will have many things we don’t like. Holding onto secrets like the CIA. Unlocking the mind shows the same effects of the atomic bomb dropping on Japan in 1945.

I had a dream my mother was ill
Optimistic and sure of elixir's will

In a sunlit place
she lounged in style,
Desdemona the Siamese.

So in a rush
he took his brush,
as she took her ease

and painted her smile
on a human face.

Time passes
and all events
encapsulated in

Sleep

Sleep, my sister, my lover, my friend