International Poet

  Mother - The Reflection of Divine Love   A mother is not merely a relation, She is Heaven’s tender grace. A living stream of love and mercy, Wrapped in warmth and endless embrace. She walks through storms without complaining, Yet lays soft flowers upon our way. She hides her tears behind a smile, So her children may laugh each day. She breaks her bread to feed her family, Though hunger quietly fills her soul. She sacrifices dreams in silence, Just to make her children whole. Through sleepless nights beside our pillows, She whispers prayers no ears can hear. Carrying every wound in silence, Holding her children forever near. And when we wander far from goodness, Losing sight of the path once known, She bends her knees in faithful prayer, Calling for mercy before the throne. A mother’s wisdom shines like lanterns, Guiding hearts through darkest nights. Teaching truth, compassion, kindness, Leading souls toward what is right. Where a praying mother is present, Peace gently fill...

  I loved you with a love that never ends   I loved you with a love that never ends- a great, sincere love, and with every passing day, my heart grew fuller with you.   My beloved, although you departed from my world, you remained alive in my memory; the memory of your love never leaves me.   Return to me with your love, your heart, your days, so we may become like two birds flying together in the dreams of tomorrow.   My love-and yours- know no end. Remember me as days pass, and do not forget that my love still belongs to you.   As if we are still together, my beloved- forever.   I still adore you   I still adore you. Between my love and yours lie days and years. I wandered through your nights and was lost within your days.   I became lost in my own world. I drifted away from you, and you drifted away from me, but fate chose to keep us apart.   Yet our hearts are like butterflies, lost in their own pain.   Between my love and yours...

Greek Maiden I saw a Greek maiden who set my heart aflame A beautiful Greek maiden, I never knew her name Through her portrait I saw a smile and eyes that gleam Oh I hope I won’t offend, if I pursue her in my dream When I look at her picture my mind starts to fly Towards Mt. Olympus, above a cloudless sky Towards Meteora, the pillars of Parthenon Towards Stomio beach, the cloister of Komnenion When I look at her picture I hear a mellow voice As from someone who loves to worship and rejoice As from a poem that speaks of the birds and bees As from love songs of Beyonce and Alicia Keyes Oh lovely Greek maiden, what I feel words can’t explain Kingdoms may rise and fall, your beauty shall remain Lucky is that guy who will end up as your groom But you will always be mine in the darkness of my room

Already Departed In the cold room we stepped Into the smell of warmed polish Well rubbed into the grain It was just as before Maturity did not grow new Eyes or smother truth with The trades material magic The silent music that creeped Out of the walls blended like magic Those sensible open-curtains That always draws attention from Saddened pity to empty dullness Swallowing lumps that pierce Tears at the thought Of entering the next room While gripping ones own fists Until white with surrounding Tear-shaped red marks How the moments of being Alone with nothing less Than two bodies without company Is it love, respect, pity Or just extreme curiosity That draws us here?

According To Darkness, Silence Dons A Halo The spinning enjoyment of dusk's communal culture, whose language of content spreads its contagious calmness through the winding metaphorical maze of regard for existence, the triangular connection of movements, spaced between etching fragrant gifts toward a purpose of its own meaningful motive. As in the movements of monarch butterflies, their orange wings with adorning black-white ornamental displays of transferable sections of moving, circular light. Antecedently to dawn's open mouth, darkness in the safe idiom hides below the highest halo, golden hanging light not yet born before the pushing of the orange slant, its genesis causes separation, shedding myriad of variant colors to escape into mesmerizing mannerisms.

Yuppie Dragons And Paper Mountains Climb mountains! Slay Dragons! That's what I did When I was a kid Now it's too much All this grownup stuff Amalgamations Corporations Business-like murder under the guise of merger Micro-second chattel battles waged on computer panels Flash before my eyes In a plate glass high-rise Now all my mountains are made of paper, and all my dragons wear ties