Saturday, April 11, 2009


All things are subject to interpretation, but which interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power, and not necessarily truth.
When such interpretations happen, there are only two choices left; either get browbeaten by the roar around you and feel dwarfed and feel less of what you were before; or turn to self pride and derive sustenance from within. Ultimately, the faster you deal with it and come to terms with it, the happier you will be.
Most of the time, I have chosen the path of deriving fulfillment from what I do to myself ultimately, rather than what others do to me.
Albeit, this choice never comes to me without paying a price. The price that pain always demands. But I am a fighter at the end of the day.

I might not fight for my failings, my mediocrity, my frailty as a human being; but I will fight for what I take pride in. My beliefs.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009


I  wait you...
With yearning wishes, across the years,
throughout all time.
The waterfall roars, torn to shreds,
And shade from the mountains envelops the valley mist filled.

I go forth, and into the mist,
I can't move the stony hills...
There all the hazel bushes
Are drenched in morning dew.

I listen to morning, intent, like a child to verse.
There on the meadows feed the horses,
The bee to the thistle humming flies-

And here within my palm, your face,
Like my whole universe, quietly shines.


Last night you wrote your sonnets in  Braille: the commas, parenthesis, ellipses engraved perfectly on my skin- and  I  ...