Woke up in the middle of the night 

It felt like sitting on one of those chairs in the mountain campsite

But it’s just my bed, right?

Have been through this illusion a couple of times

Putting on those earpieces every night

Listening to The Neighbourhood’s rhymes

Sending those chills down my spine

As i go on with the flow every time

Man, isn’t that awesome, right?

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Here's a little something i'd like to dedicate to my mum <3 

Dear Mum,

Your smile was warmer than the sun.

A glow that now twinkles amongst the stars,

Every time I look up, I forget all the scars.

I remember our long walks,

All those calls with endless talks.

You were my beacon of positivity,

My foundation and stability.

With every passing cloud,

I prom...

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A lakeside photo was intentionally
displayed upside down,
and it took forever for
me to come to terms
with my feeling of
unreality.

The muted reflection
established my Truth
of the world at that
moment, while I
struggled to accept
the clear and sharp
presentation of
existence upside down.

I thought of the paradox,
momentarily,
and suddenly realized
what Plato must have meant.

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Poems are like moons
reflecting past light
back down towards me
when I choose to look

Mind and creation
coexisting
at a respectful distance

Purged
with so much space between us
I no longer live
through the poems
they’re just reflections now

Beneath the busy sky
I’m free
and living life...

(Inspired by Cynthia's moon poems)

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Lit by the distant sun 
in a backyard beer-garden 
overlooking the meadow
my swimming brain spins out
through adventures of the past
forgotten journeys 
by coach, by plane
through unfamiliar landscapes
to the desert 
in California

We rode the Greyhound 
between the sun-drenched cities
your head lay on my lap
and when we could tear 
our eyes from one-another
we'd watch the world pa...

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I am

barefoot

on a far tide line

sand rippled

spread

with estuary shells

with oystercatchers

soft where rills run down

or the sea pools

behind a half-sunk stone

or a mooring chain

I am

watching

moored yachts

swinging to the tide turn

above their sunken reflections

angled lines of cirrostratus

echoed below the horizon

in the mirror gloss sea

...

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A day without E is better off Breathless,

May my soul escape if my stream is empty.

Seek and find the girl named E,

packed with love she doesn't discriminate,

Her race is spectrum body tailored to your preference.

Undergo E she'll turn the toughest man empathetic.

Open your eyes wide as the sky,

Her love brings out a high unreal,

to experience one must be willing ...

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Before I left

I checked myself in the mirror.

Made sure I am wearing my smile 

Bight red on my chapped lips,

Concealing the blood streaks

trapped around the corners.

Before I left 

I checked myself in the mirror.

Made sure I am wearing my confidence 

Jet black on my sunken eyes,

Hiding the pain and angiush

lost some where in my daily routine.

Before I ...

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In so few splashed acrylic lines

see Cornish fishing boats

take shape against the quay

the red hull and the yellow

See Cornish fishing boats

mirrored in the harbour sea

the red hull and the yellow

with the deep sky sunk below

Mirrored in the harbour sea

the jumble of masts and cranes

with the deep sky sunk below

and the distant sea above

The jumbl...

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Violent Energies standing at bay,

Lurking in the shadows,

Stalking their prey

Yearning for the glitch in my stride

Begging for my speech to flutter

Truly an OPPORTUNIST 

It’s either me or the others ?

The sunken place is one we all know

Stuck in the pits of sorrow,

Burrowing ourselves in the depths of our minds,

The world around us becomes blind

The ...

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Just when you think you’ve fallen too deep,

Lost in the pits of your mind,

There’s someone reaching out to you,

Saying leave your past behind.

Starting anew is harder than it seems,

Energies,thoughts and doubts linger in between.

My thoughts are drowning me in this sea of illusion,

Leaving me in a state of confusion.

For my mind is a challenge,

And self doubt is the...

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you would not believe how easy it is to break a mirror!
and we're not talking the ones that you see in the clearance sections at stores,
we're talking about the mirror that shows you how you think about yourself.

this mirror is one made of a very special glass,
one that comes in all different shapes and sizes for every person,
one that is very often...fragile.

a child often begins their ...

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And she will always reflect

the hidden traits 

in which you already possess 

~ nicoline ~

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The hands of time tick slowly by

as dawn breaks in a new day.

A nightmare reality of

the receding night lies marked,

like so many fading stars,

in the shattered glass on the floor.

Silken shards of sorry souls,

their lives now trapped

in a dream of what was then,

what is now and

what should never have been.

Each broken image,

a moment in time captured

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As much try shaking off

 odd feeling can’t avoid

On face seems normalcy

  deep within I’m paranoid

All evident brave fronts

and donned blasé guise

Reflect chinks in armor

of societal compromise

Frayed old compulsions

often daunt and afflict

Daubed in hues darker

sane rationality restrict

Old emotional stockpile

intrinsically stay...

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Trying to put brave guise

deep down within I burn

In quest of eternal bliss

notoriety I got to earn

None were expectations

or any of bartered trade

Folly proved true essence

of calling spade a spade

Gave in to most situation

never wished any return

Response stayed hostile

sans as much of  concer...

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On the other side of the mirror there’s another man like me

He seems to look just like me I have to agree

He’s another man with the same thinking process

He’s trying to move on, trying to make progress

He takes milk with his tea but only one sugar

And offer him coffee and he’ll tend to shudder

He likes computers and writing things

Mainly poems but whatever his ...

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My Life is not my art
My art is not my life
Yet we are like husband and wife-
When you know my Art
You begin to know me.
 
Life is not Art
Art is not Life
Yet they are like reflections
When you know life
You begin to know Art.
 
 
Life does not imitate Art
Neither should Art imitate Life
For when art is at its purest
You begin to know
                                                                        Tr...

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