Perception

I touch your skin

Wanting to feel 

The shape of your heart

Nothing more superficial than that;

I look at your eyes

Wanting to see

The hues that fuel your light;

Nothing invisible into that.

I listen to your mouth 

Wanting to hear

The undertones that mellow your heart

And I am caught in you key.

I sense who you are

From the rosemary scent

And led by it I smuggle out 

Tar colored shadows of past.

I pull hard at the roots

I extract and throw them out

To the deep space

Far, cold and appart.

Years pass and she comes 

From nowhere

A sweet ball

Of fire that can make you laugh.

In three moves

You make your songs come out

From her mouth 

Warm and light

And joyfully bright

As she dances around

A strange shape

That resembles a heart.

Red

She was born a  red angel

and learned to fly amongst them

Blue angles, but she sometimes had

strange behaviors like flying up and down

when all the blue angels were running from left to right

as they were rescuing souls 

ready to drown in a river of loss.

While the blues were carrying them 

from the river to the edge of the forest

to breath renewed in the shade

she liked to place them closer to the sun

in hawks's next and high branches

exposed to light, hope and dreaming

and only the vague memory 

about what was happening down on the ground.

As i sat and sung on the banks,

i had a vision of souls that were turning like balls

of red fires and fly from the trees

into the summer air , amongst

blue angels marveling at their need 

to be saved by beauty, 

in vision, music, or dance. 

Portrait

She looked at me from her painting

With her candid smile 

As she danced half steps in the air

And half foot on the ground

And she begged understanding 

For trading her long memories of pain

For fluttering moments of joy.

Yet, as it happened the skilled painter

Was there to capture those moments

To serve as example to those who are 

Contemplating half bravely 

A similar trade

I looked back at her warmed by her smile

As she stood lonely out from the circle 

Of  dancers-  the one contemplating

the past and still dancing forwards 

With grace.

Jack

 Call me Jack

The wanderer the wonderinger 

The doer and sometimes undoer

The impatient builder

The singer and the gardener

The wanna be repairer 

Just call me cause I badly need

A word to push me forwards through the day

Towards tomorrow

And fixing your roof to shield you from rain

Is the project I have always had in the back of my mind 

I was just waiting for you to call and let me know 

You want this done and trust me 

Before I leave you will have a happy and fresh 

Coat of paint 

The jealousy of all cardinals in the neighborhood 

And only the woodpecker will dare knock on wood

To wake you up and wish you good luck

Because I have trained her to do so

In the morning to give you a start

Love storm

He is like a storm in my arms

Rewriting the rules of love and hugs

He twists and turns and rolls

From one cheek to the other 

Butterfly kisses fly in the air

Around this child of mine 

In an effervescence of spirit 

Purpose statement

Chanel your energy to create the future you will want to explore tomorrow.

Olive

My olive girl has dark skin

Made from chocolate 

Softened with milk

From the whitest sheep.

She is strong in spirit 

And the symbol of peace

She has grown gracefully

In a hard land for survival 

Amongst rocks and clay

Under the bright sun

she laughs with arms stretched high

Towards the perturbable sky

As she breaths in the strength of the sea

The hero

 He is but one the hero

And there is only one quest

We each get our chance

If being him and then along the journey 

And the chance comes back

To the lucky ones

Once a day

Everyday of our lives.

There are two sides of one coin

And they can  flip 

Any minute

There are two faces to time

You can call the god

Good or bad

As he sends every moment

To us and asks us

To seek our balance.

The bridge, the trip,

The road and the river

The blue sky and the storm 

And us are asked

To share the path

To coexist.

Be the hero

soak in and drink 

The essence of time 

Fluttering by

While we can

Let’s face the currents

And swim in and drink

The water of life

Fruits

We are all fruits

Of the tree of life

Either soft on the inside 

But hiding beneath

A hard shell ;

Or soft on the outside 

Like peaches 

But hiding a hardcore pit

Protecting our heart.

So many fruits

In this world 

So much sweetness

But handle us with care

Before anybody gets hurt

At harvest

sword in stone

if you are tired of fighting daily battles

do you pick and choose

those for which you show up?

do you drop your guns

to you extract the sword from the stone

or you sit and recharge?

Naked

I stand here naked, 

not of clothes

But of all defenses

Because I have decided 

To let words rings true to their value.

You were listening for a while

And then your voice rang like a bell

In resonance with the loudest timpani

Till the walls let the sound sink into them

And the floor, and there was no ceiling

( anymore).

But then what happened to us?

Have we dissolved in fear or indifference,

Have we become transparent to lies

Allowing them to pass through?

Untouched are our bodies you think

Wrapped in protective feathers of faith?

Will we stand naked all over again?

This time in shame, because

The emperor’s clothes, as it turns out,

were too thin to be true .

bridges

With long strong arms powered by longing 

the very distance between us 

pulls us closer;

to void fills with voices like the sky fills with stars

when the night covers the earth 

in darkness.

the music rises and each voice harmonizes,

the chorus is disorganized, organic, 

exhausting

and yet the music persists in breaking the silence.

we are free to be friends, when we remember

our core;

who we truly are, what we stand for, 

and what do we want from this blessed day 

we were granted.

today is the day, the only today that will ever be

should we choose distance over love

or love over distance ; what kind of bridge

will you and I be?

Sandwiched

Sandwiched between

The soil and the sky

I count the clouds

Waiting for clarity

Soaking it in.

And when the sky

Clears the ways 

Of my thoughts

I start the day

Anew with light 

Food

At first I thought the art of eating in Japan

Was an unconquerable mythology 

Of sweet sauces polluting meat

Breakfast that smells strong enough

To wake the late sleepers

And minuscule sweet treats

that counterbalance calories 

By washing them with patience

And the pure taste of green teas.

I ALSO thought that onions role 

was to anesthetize the feelings

and to drown in tears the thoughts 

against eating raw fish 

and while i was humbly battling all of this

Sweet friends appeared and thought me

how To eat with chopsticks:

Grain by grain, cut by cut 

Gentle and delicate 

Restoring the balance

And The feelings too came back

Rice

And if we are but grains of rice

Don’t we deserve 

The joy of life?

The privilege to make some noise

To let the wind bend us

In a few directions 

The sun light us,

The moon enchant us

Who’s going to see the face of me

And hear the voice of you 

If we are all but grains of rice

Let us be merry for the season

We’ll fill your bowl a little later

With hard earned fruits

If our labor

 

Bruises

I have scraped my knees 

In beautiful corners of the world

I have bled and got bruised

By the road

When taking a curve here and there

Too fast or too slow 

On a dusty fun motor

Ages ago.

And now that I look at me knees

I see silvery traces

Of bruises and all I can say is

Thank you for building with me

Memories.

I

I was never part of the picture

Never been part of the plan

I just happen to happen

And you own the hand

That made be be drawn.

The lines that you’ve painted

Are recognizable 

For being bolder than bold

And they danced me

Into existence 

and shaped me to flow

Into the painting.

Where is my fault 

For being drawn 

at the speed of a bomb?

christmas

 saint nicholas comes on the 6th

and brings with him treats

some are sweet for the mouth

some are warm for the soul

and some are surreal

for example one might get treated

with fairytales and pictures 

of 300 year old gnomes

of spirits trapped within the bark

of grass trees 

looking and longing to be

one and free

no matter what the memory 

of dark nights may be

this is the time to turn on

and towards the light

Show me

Show me the way

we are supposed to open paths,

Rather than close doors

Light up fires

Rather than extinguish them,

Cheer and support our pioneers

Rather than push them to fall

Like the first line pawns 

Nobody cares for;

Speaking of which, tell me

what is it that makes you care,

And move in the right direction

And how will you look out

For others today.

Stars

 He was a named star

And he took every chance to shine

His face sparkled with smile,

 his eyes with twinkles 

And sometime with tears 

But what was to be seen 

were the traces he left with his hands

On the canvas he touched 

His strokes were shaped 

after the movements of dancers

His colors were bold in protesting 

the dullness of any gray day

The shadows were there 

to embolden the light

And there was really no need for words

Because wonders speak loud for themselves.

That night as we talked I understood 

 even stars take a beating at times

And May fall on their knees, 

into sadness, or into oblivion 

We are reminded

that being humble and small

is matter of fact the state we are in 

On the scale of the street, or the city;

and we may not even be known

to exist on the scale of the galaxy.

And from where he sat with his thoughts 

On his knees looking close to the ground 

He looked up and he said

Be careful where your walk

Watch and do not lose your soul

And as he said his words 

I felt a lonely wind clearing the floor.