International Poet

Poem For Someone Who Is Sorry For Me Just a moment, please! The night sleeps calmly. Why do you want to annihilate the silence of the infinite? Leave my anguish alone, let me protect myself from your perfidious hopes!

What's The Matter With Her? What's the matter with her? Why doesn't she comprehend? A simple task shouldn't take till the day's end, How could they say she's brilliant, It's more like she's starting a dumb trend, What's the matter with her? Does she take dope? Is her mind fogged with bubbles of soap? Doesn't she process information like everyone else? I swear it's like talking to stuffed animals sitting on a shelf. *A little patience goes a long way with an autistic child.

Vertigo There is no east or west sun. Indifference blankets the sky In smoky haze, leaving me To feel my way homeward. A thousand protrusions Slapping my outstretched tentacles Silly, twisting me one way, Rotating another. This way- that. A blind needle Of a compass Bobsledding a labyrinth.

The Beautiful Garden You can come into my garden, full of secrets and insecurities, Buried deep down, where you will never see them, All you will ever see is the surface, Brimming with its beauty and confidence, When one man died, another rose, Where one man is buried, the other visits, While one man smiles for his fate, the other cries, I have killed myself trying to change, That I no longer know who I am, As I stand in my garden, I ask, Can that one man be the other as well? Past and future live, While the lonely present is never, If I let you into my garden, Are you going to dig? Ruin the beauty of the surface, Just to find out things, that you do not want to know, Or will you be content to lay in the flowers and clover, In the middle of a rain storm.

Point Conception Something in this landscape of birthing before it collides that swells in us waves sweating their chaotic cadences consuming accumulated testimonies; the secret tensions transformed from confrontations into love for this headland of discarded inhibitions and primal screams. Here, the world confesses itself. We are its echo, chorus, its refrain, borne by private confessions of unrest to seethe with the sea between our thighs with hope like steel piercing our hearts.

Only In My Dreams It used to be only in my dreams, That I would become a butterfly, And fly to the places that, I could not visit walking on this Earth, But, now it all became a reality, Since I truly transformed myself into a Butterfly, Because the time was and is too short, To live only in my dreams, And now I am free and I fly, Wherever and whenever I want to, But there is this place and the one, That I still cannot visit as yet, And it is you, and those magic moments, That I will live only in my dreams for now.

Sunset And Grief The setting Sun Has been holding by the ocean Casting golden light at sea and rosy clouds in the sky Spring thunders in rain Has been blockaded by the mountain when traveling in valley Made the world shaking and frightening Your sorrow Being caught by me Left bloody marks in my heart My grief Being taken away by wind Drifting away as cloud

Here Lies The In Between Yesterday Was never My view of the future And i never had a collection of broken dreams So when i walk through fields of head markers My soul knows here lies only the in between And if you ever come looking for me Let the silence awaken you To eternity

Haiku A dazzling woman Kills my beautiful poems Every morning. Shards of green glass On top of forbidden walls Sparkle in moonlight. Rapacity To plunder a soul’s gold To buy glass beads.

Dark Night Of The Soul I wish I could forget you, but every time I tried A sadness stirs inside of me, and tears I cannot hide. My thoughts are always with you, and every time I see, A standing stone, a crystal, You seem so close to me. The candles on my alter, I burn them in your name, For now I know my future will never be the same. My mind just reaches for you, I just cant fathom why, You seem to have forgotten me, not even a goodbye. I wish I knew the reason, for surely there is one. Perhaps because of who I am, I flew close to the sun. You say! I feel, I say, I do, but that is just my way. I could not hide the way I felt, that bright September day. The memory of your poems all lyrical and deep, I hear the words within the night, when I am close to sleep. I see so many visions, I know that you do too. If I could only once again, share them all with you.