How to love a man,
whose lips whisper another’s name?
A woman’s

I weep in my sleep
As his eyes look at the horizon
Over the edge of my pillow

My hands caress his skin
But not the tender fabric of his heart
For its another’s

The woman at the ball
The mirror I looked into
Her likeliness like my past

When the night was young
And the moon was a virgin
Yes! Her moon!

Still young and bright,
In the dawn of the twilight
And on the warm earth beneath

She lays in a bed of grass
And hums to the stars,
Her voice calling to the angels

And along comes my man
At least he was,
In the past

Now a stranger,
Or another’s man
In my bed of withering grass

And with my tears to wipe,
I lay cold, thoughtful,
How to love another’s man?



Featured post


Sweat and skin
Brushes of hair between
I feel his breath on my neck

The desires of a pounding heart
A race to a finish line
Only to start from where it ends

Just a pendulum
Either a top left or right
And again, back to the middle

Like a bird in the sky
Caught in a current
That forever is yearned

Stretching her wings
Before the break of the winds
That she must find ground again

From the same tree she flew,
An old branch of an oak,
Where her nest will ruin

At the changing seasons
Her spirit like a flame,
Losing the color of its light

As she flies again and again
Trying again and again
Until the sun falls and rises never again


Featured post

The bride in a black dress

Where the roses drift on a drying river,
My heart pounds less to the echoes of your lies

Smooth lines mark the edges
A circle looping us inside a past

The black scarf in a closet
The tears of a weeping star

That the moon was mine
And not the warmth of your skin

On a cold night,
At least for most of the nights

When you were with her,
Until the break of a new dawn

But not another colored sun
For the shade is fading

The effects of your drug waning
That it only hurts to breathe

Between sobs of rage,
Pain and ecstasy

The crystal of naivety
A rainbow sunset that I had seen

Transformed into a twilight
That now,
I am the bride in a black dress


Featured post


Edges of a pen,

Warm hands

Ruined paper

The language of love

Trying to write about you

My mind is a haze…

lost in senses

I can still feel your touch on my skin

Smooth and cold,


We never forget the sunset,

Or the sunrise

It is your smile

Tranquility is an ocean…

looking deep into your eyes

It won’t stop

Warm bodies,

The mating dance

In a November rain,

The rose petals are heavy…

with dew from silent sighs

Fantasies are ecstasies

Swimming in the depth of the river between

The monk in me

I was chatting with a friend today and she was feeling so down. I really felt for her and suddenly, “the monk in me” surprised both of us. You never know how much of life lessons or wisdom you have until something happens.

I look back and wish that I had made the right choices always, that there was someone to advise me whenever I needed to and that I took on that advice. But the past is a page written with a broken pen if all we remember is it’s sorrows.

What do you remember? How do you choose to remember your story? For the future is set like the sun, to rise again. The only path is to the grave. So how I walk this day? If I could make all the right decisions to achieve success, happiness or love, whatever else there is to obtain in this new day, how I wish I could be this wise everyday.

But I fail, don’t I? And you fail, don’t you? We are the broken vases watered every morning, only to lose our water before the heat of the midday. And so we watch our flowers wither. Our petals become frail. But don’t we come out strong? When the sun falls, we come alive with the dew on our skins, because we have each other.

Well I appreciate you for taking your time to read through my poems and here is the dialogue of the monk in me and my friend

PoetR : How are you feeling?

She: Stressed and tired

PoetR: You just want it to end

She: Definitely

PoetR: It has stopped

PoetR: Where are you now?

She: It doesn’t stop

PoetR: Meditate

She: Turn off the mind

PoetR: Just for a moment

PoetR: Find the peace within

PoetR: The rhythm that connects it all

PoetR: Relate to it,
and inside, where understanding meets the mind, you will know happiness
At least how to find rest in this turbulent world

PoetR: And now I feel like a monk

She: Hehehehehe!

She: You sound like a monk

PoetR: I know! Stuff just flows

Red sun

The whispers…

are lies,

written in the air

Fading echoes,

speaking to oneself

“It will be alright”

“It will be al…”

“It will be…”

“It will sink in the earth,

The red sun sinks in the earth

The moon never rises

And the stars are fallen


“I am broken”

How to live this world?

Happiness is a blur,

smudged with blooded hands,

on the walls of my mind

Love was a stake,

run through my heart

When trust failed,

rose petals tattered in hails

The face of me,

is a stranger…

staring back…

…in this broken mirror

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: