Turbulent silence

Unsaid words are the loudest

There is no hiding from their noise

For one cannot hide from oneself

The supreme refuge is in one’s own heart

Why seek escape from the one true shelter?

Words left unsaid return like the wind

They reek of regret and salty rain

In the happiest of hours they knock,

We drown the knock in our laughter

Only to surrender and trade tears,

Those of merry laughter,

Making way for those borne by pain


I furnished this house lavishly

Regrets in this room

Fears in that

The past was kind to me

She gave me regrets to furnish my home

The future has supplied many fears

I stare suspiciously at the present

For she has nothing to give

Hands of counsel

Advice packaged in idealism is deceit,

Strive not to be rid of all regrets

But endeavor instead to be one with time

Occasionally the clock doth falter

A hiccup in time

We don’t glance ceaselessly at the hands,

Thus the disruptions escape our engrossed eyes

The clock we created is a picture of perfection

So effortlessly it marches on

An eternal part of the ambience

Oh but we are artists

Imperfections set us apart from clocks

They make us one with Time

Walk through mortality

These gravestones are somber but enticing

Sundry thoughts they inspire,

Complex despite their simple text

One ponders the nature of the silence

Or dwells on the stories underneath

Years of pain, joy, laughter and tears

They brightened some people’s stars

Today I walk on them impassively

Some stones have quotes

Others mere details

These rocks with dates and aphorisms,

Bear they songs of mortality

Perhaps like our mortal memories

Where these lines reside for a moment

Before we return to the chaos


A minuscule orb floats in a colossal universe

It alone populated by emotion

The celestial bodies move inaudibly

An odd truce in hushed oblivion

Each planet clasps its own triviality

In the ever-expanding cosmos,

Countless are the stars

Countless indeed the galaxies

In this intricate universe,

One planet houses myriad forms of life

Only one form thinks itself exceptional

On a planet that has no ego


Yesterday visits me in wordless congeniality

We sit and say so much yet so little

She arrives on her terms,

Her iron will does not yield when it’s farewell

I reach out my hand to say but a word,

I blink to collect those entangled thoughts

Proud of my lament, now set in words,

I open my eyes to harangue her,

Oh to chide her, to berate her cruelty

Only to see

She left without a word again

It was but another imagined conversation

The dreamer

I sit in this dark forest

Tall, imposing trees staring down at me

Still and composed

I enjoy my dark solitude

Everything here is mine

All I wish is my reality

In the green stillness and warmth

Perhaps unknowingly, I savor

My perfect control, my concealed liberation

Thus I get reminded again

Of the Heavens, why I am here

And where I must go

I float in the calm water

My boat a handful of dreams

This echoing silence I despise

Or do I love every moment of it

The intriguing emotional conflict

Makes the frail walls concrete

And every now and then reality comes along

To shake me from my daylight slumber

This transition from my reality to chaos

I loath, hate and despise!

Hand in rain 

Take my hand and walk

Let the deluge wash away my chaos

Let it accentuate your calm

Dark clouds threaten a long storm

So many have I lived through

The edge is slippery in inclement weather

Relentless rain polishes the rock to perilous perfection

I have polished my own edges

This is but another day in real life

My soul has seen no sun

The rain is my lifelong dwelling,

The clouds my scornful friends

Traditionally asleep

We create tradition and nurse it gently

Today it is mature and the roles reversed

We are the children, cradled tenderly

In the arms of custom we lie

Wrapped in the blanket of ennui

Our slumber is the damnation of sense

So chronic is this infantilism

That we are loath to be awakened

The clamour of a tempest rattles our sleep

Eyes move to express muffled empathy

Only to close again