The children. Too late for so many.
(April is poetry month. Poem number six. I found a old journal from 1988. This poem was never published. Old words, old sadness. Become leftover pain, we learn to live with. This poem… Continue reading
(April is poetry month. Poem number six. I found a old journal from 1988. This poem was never published. Old words, old sadness. Become leftover pain, we learn to live with. This poem… Continue reading
( April is poetry month. Poem number five. I found a old journal from 1988. This poem was never published. Old words, old sadness. Become leftover pain, we learn to live with.) For… Continue reading
Lovers in Paris.. She whispered to me, “O my love, O my love. Make me feel alive. I plucked a rose for us today and I told the red rose. Where had my… Continue reading
I hope, I don’t fall in love with you.. I found her sitting alone on the sand at the Seaside beach. You held your whiskey tightly and you wanted to be alone. I… Continue reading
Dance me to the end of love… 1- We shall pay the midnight toll, where the sin, the gin and the skin always needs more. Where strangers begin friends, where friends become strangers.… Continue reading
Mirrored soul.. The half-drunk poet told the beloved night. I saw the veil of heaven and I have tasted death breathe. I am the son of the forest, the water and the sky.… Continue reading
A stranger, I became… He was corrupted by the Army, almost 15 years, twisted his minds and his needs.Once he needed home, once he needed his family.And now he need new cities, new… Continue reading