Fighting A Different Battle

This is the most recent collaboration piece with Benjamin Grossman. It has always been a joy and encouragement to work with Ben. Please do check out his work, you won’t be disappointed.

Two millennia ago
I would’ve cried
Stony tears
Like the stoics of legends

For the injustices raging
Against shared truth
I scream in silence
Like a fallen knight

There are no more
Heroic battles
On a field of dirt and dust
Where men were once raised
To die for future honor

We hide behind
Neuro electro defenses
Attacking lives
Without sounding
The trumpet

Am I a departed
Clutching the white flag
Crippled by reality
Or my own fatal mind?

The Lesser of Two Evils

This is the recent collaboration with Benjamin Grossman which helped me greatly in breaking my writing ‘numbness’. Please check out Ben’s blog if you have not already read his amazing work. 

The glacial battle begins in our heads
Face pressed to the sun-pierced windowpane
January snow in recession, the signs of regression 
Half hidden like an iceberg in the arctic water 
And where once a soft glow illuminated the surface 
Only the placement of desolation remains
Reverberating silent screams 
There is no one way of knowing cold
The stages are fluid and transient
Its meaning bitterly ambiguous 
Yet in rare lucid moments, I see husks
An empty bed, scarred skin, chattered teeth
Spirit-numbed mind, missed meals, vacant smiles

There is no one way of knowing cold
Its symptoms appear to have no rhyme or reason
Although they move with wintry doom
From person to person increasing in aggression 
Till you understand the meaning of icy
Which unbeknownst to us creeps in succession 

There is no one way of knowing cold 
Though maybe it’s always the same
Emotional and physical reaction 
A state of feeling dangerously low
Struggling to survive between cold and colder
The very same polar opposites: Arctic and Antarctica



This is a collaboration piece with Spirited Soul based on a Poetic Duets Prompt – “Pick any of the 5 senses. Now, imagine your life without it, and describe it poetically.” This prompt came from Instagram @PoeticDuets

Beautiful green and orange chunks weaved through the spongy dough.
Aromatic toasted nuts gave that firm structure
like the solid brick work in an architecture piece.
When the baking oven timer went off like a diner bell,
my nose was overwhelmed by the healthy wholesomeness.
My mouth salivated in great anticipation.

As I slide the fork from in between my lustrous lips,
I feel the thick, coarse lump in my mouth.
Swirling around like dry sand when I chew.
Feeling like a handful of moving bugs as I try to swallow.
The kind that land inside your mouth after an enjoyable motorbike ride.

Ocean Spring

A Collaboration of Cassa and Lucy

dark clouds gather overhead as the rolling thunder
sets my soul on fire

lightning brings about the spark 
I longed to ignite our flame 

overflowing in the depths of my tempestuous heart 
my inner sense of desire
yearning for the calm waves to wash over me 

ever so gentle rhythmic in unison with my heart beat
the lull of your breathing brings about 
a peaceful and serene plateau of joyous abandonment 

your voice, so quiet and sublime
echos in the distance far from silent ears
nothing measures up to the peace you grant me
the gentle trickle spring you let in 
in painstaking patience
nourishes my weathered heart

unbeknown to you
the frozen particles in my being thaw in your presence
you are the heart and soul of my universe 
your spring overflows my cup 

Overambitious Love

A collaboration with Benjamin Grossman

Her emerald beauty circled his upright being
She stretched her sublime allure to capture the snow
He felt the weight in totality
It exceeded what he could possibly endure

Most days there was a smokey haze between them
And this fog formed uneven walls
With tiny openings just wide enough
To let toxic fumes leak through

In desperation,
she let out her slow poison
He turned himself inside out to survive
But was never the same man as before
Nor she the same woman

They had interwoven
like a tree wrapped in vines
They wanted to thrive under any conditions
That’s what all lovers long to do
Tragically they couldn’t harness the moonlight
Nor grow within the embers of dying flames

50 Shades of Darkness

A collaboration with Instagram Poetess @twinksfly
Do check out her work, amazing talent!

The fossil site was burnt to charcoal long ago
The remain of tar grease smells leathery
Sable branches drape off the ebony
The jet black raven croaks at the inky cloud
Furry spiders find their way into the midnight hollow

Standing tall amongst the ashes – of the dense foliage
That once breathe life, I stare at the smoldering ruin
With ebony flush under solar flashes, from winds that blew hard
The charred skeleton of a home, by standing, barbequing beams’ brewing

The warm evenings where crickets hovered, as the sun set
The ironbark veranda, where the kids giggled, has become a fret
Bush by bush, the fire swept, up to the garden fence
Up to the now charcoal front door, in her embrace I cense

The scent which bloomed through the air from roses red
When the delicate petals danced gaily soaking garden with vibrant colors
Now a tombless tombstone festooned by the wreath of flesh red
Lay witness with a heavy aroma of death of the dreadful summer

And my gaze walks through the charred husk that once was a car
As I remember the loud inferno, overwhelming senses, from afar
Wondering where was a freight train running at this hour
Knowing even if it was by the lake’s edge, it would become char

Every morning, with sun’s first ray, I look at the calves playing on the rubble and say
As the flaring tragedies trail throttles the screams frail
I stand still, a mute spectator of the worst-case scenario of when forecasts fail
It’s going to come again, the skies are still gray, are you counting the day

Furry spiders find their way into the midnight hollow
As the jet black raven croaks at the inky cloud
And sable branches drape off the ebony
While the remains of tar grease smell leathery
This fossil site was burnt to charcoal long ago

The Snow Is My Only Companion

This poem was written by Du Fu who is considered to be one of China’s greatest poets of the Tang dynasty.

Du Fu was born to a minor scholar-official in Henan Province. His mother died while he was young, and an aunt helped raised him.

Du Fu is often described as a poet-historian, and his works convey the emotional impact and import of political and social issues and register a range of private concerns, trials, and dramas. His poems are remarkable for their range of moods as well as contents.

Alan and I worked on the translation together on this piece. You may read more of Alan’s translation work on Chinese, Spanish poetry, own poetry and essays here.






After the battle, we mourn for the dead;
I’m old and alone, grief filling my head.

Dark, ominous clouds are filtering down;
The cold wind and snow are swirling around.

There is no wine left in the calabash bowl,
But the stove is still hot from the smoldering coal.

The news cannot reach us from our dearest kin;
I sit down to write, but I cannot begin.

Grieving the Autumn Rains I

This poem was written by Du Fu in 754. He was a Chinese poet and politician of the Tang dynasty.
Alan Steinle (Alan’s work) and I worked on the translation together.

秋雨叹三首 (一)


The grass has decayed from all the rain we’ve seen,
But the cassia below the steps remains bright green.

Your feather-like leaves escaped the autumn showers;
Like golden coins are your many blooming flowers.

You can feel the bitter wind’s persistent attack;
Can your stalk endure the force, or will it crack?

Above the steps, I let down my graying hair;
I smell the fragrant cassia, but I feel despair.


An effortless collaboration with Ben, do check out his amazing poetry on Instagram Remedy Poems


My words are falling
over your collarbone
like loose strands
dipped in charcoal
bleeding through skin
The things you craved
but now regret
Home is a memory
distant and frostbitten
by turquoise hands

close up photo of woman s face
Photo by Chermiti Mohamed on

Writing for the Soul

I have recently written this piece with Ben, whom I share similar way in writing poetry, from the concept beginning lines to the last word fine tune. Do check out his blog Benjamin Grossman


I savour your words on my tongue daily
Reading aloud your thoughts and feelings
As if sampling a handcrafted recipe

Words, by their prowess, bring life or death
From yours, I only taste an antidote
Each sentence a mouthful of succulent nourishment
Leafy greens of personification and aromatic spices of diction
Lines of sugar poured over smoldering pages
The flavor of an elite story

Always I crave your expression
Every fibre yearning for your art
Never stop writing
Your every scribble satiates my soul

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