This is the version of you
my unskilled hand could manage
I know you won’t mind
because you didn’t think
your name would be remembered
or your face would tell fascinating history

You painted every scar into beauty
I am one of the many
in awe of your creativity
and touched by your humility

The miracles of love

let’s look up to the sky
to count the miracles of love
before the meteor shower

how love made us

soared among the avalanche
swam in a whirlpool of clouds

poured out composition of
distinctive colour contrasts
from a desolate interior
created masterpieces that
transcend emotions and impact
with buzzing noises

smiled brightly in monochromatic suffering
wept deeply for the oppressed in our triumph

love is boundless
even the shooting stars are
no match for her


They are bloggers
tapping their life on two screens
from the initial collision
progressing to sleep deprived nights
filled with wonders and laughter

The courtship
fueled them with creativity
Great art works
splashed on a starlight canvas
with primal hues and mystic tones
sprayed with rusted shades
perfected with mastery final tints

When the exhausion set in
they lamented in clarinet and cello duet
until the sun came up on a new day
to conclude the burial

Greif lingered like autumn rain
until the sun peeked out to
strike a rainbow over the sky
sending out a sumliminal message of hope

Their love affair made them
painters and musicians
but foremost Poets


I am fascinated by the music box mechanism
behind the graceful spinning ballerina
is the precision joining forces of fragments
set of pins on a revolving cylinder
plucking the steel comb lamellae

I imagine
the care and maintenance of such
an original piece
requires the patience and skills of
an artisan watchmaker

I am in awe of
the complex and detailed effort
to make real of
a simple gasp of amazement

I come to the realisation
whenever a praise of beauty is heard
a life long devotion is behind it all

Tunnel Gallery

living in the gloomy dullness of life
I saw the piercing light
like the mobile phone notification flashing at night

walking through this unfamiliar tunnel
seeker of the illumination
stretch my arms to the walls
guiding my path in the pitch black

my fingers interpreting the rough fossils on the walls
they speak despair, torment, light and beauty
frame by frame these engraving paintings of art
I drench in all the emotions on offer
without sight
my kinesthetic fingers
reading them in wondrous

you are the light drawn me to the walk
your life I have experienced
in this tunnel of art
when I finally reach you
I will be undone, done and

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