Dusting gun powders,
digging buried bomb shrapnels,
dark road of hate clears.
Stubborn thoughts surface
refusing to hibernate
in winter’s cold breast.
cracking the thick bed of snow
‘fore the first spring bloom.
(Remember Thomas, friends and poets? 😀 Who missed him like I did?! Raise your hands! 😀
P.S. Thank you for this first collab, Thomas! ;))
Neurons and synapses
used to grooving
fast and relentless
then comes the
the piano’s gentle
a shift in melody,
for the first time
the neurons learned
how to pause
and take a break.
Maybe it was the noise
of the honking fears inside me,
or maybe it was the clink and clanks
of the battling mind and heart inside you.
Maybe I was ready to be brave,
just in time when you surrendered to be afraid,
and these maybes were too loud
enough to create a strong storm out of
our mismatch love.
Inspiration does exist but it has to find you at work
PENNY POEMS and OTHER WORDS...
where there is love, there is me and you
That's all it takes to loose yourself completely...
A Discovery of Enlightening Insights, Information, Humor, Writings and Musings
Poetry and fiction by a physicist from the dark side
Stories and poems from smalltown India
"Photography is my meditation." - Czar Anthony Lopez.
Poetry by Walter Marks
Ready, set and get psyched!!
A woman writing about the One who made her heart
Made to Create
imagination knows no limit
Incomplete stories of Heartache
Refuge of an assumed danophile...
the colour of my ink is red, a striking contrast to the muted grey of my existence