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poetry

Poetry

WHAT MAKES YOUR HEART BEAT?

The sound of rain falling when I’m in bed with a lover,
the breath stuck with me till expiry date.
The hands of a potter beating drums in my chest,
The physics of walking on two feet
stretched by a femur that houses weight.
The ray of the sun burning sins in hell
The existence of a Garden that was home before,
The nostalgic breeze of heaven
The questions of survival
The answers of a Hannah.

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Poetry

DEAR READER

Dear Reader,

Continue to drink from the mystery of my mist
and never forget to put on the lamp of my fears.
My fingers have always itched your mind
like my words that teach your heart.
Whenever I begin to speak so much about love
re-read my notes from a before.
The day I begin to talk so much about before
unread the messages that talk of heed,
do not despair for the day death drowns on my doom
not of nights news knight a nice number to my noon.
Those days will not come, never!
Those days when you shall grow fear for my feet reaches the desert,
for wherever there’s sand, I’ll mold an oasis
whenever I find waters, I’ll mend me a boat.
Do not tire from waiting for a colored coat
even when the smoke brings melodies of a dead goat,
let your hopes always make you float.
Whenever you sleep, do not dream of nightmares
do not let your pillow feel too comfortable
and let your eyes grow hollow.
Dream of when everything has to go right
even when I have nothing except a solitaire of solitude left.
And just Incase you decide to reach me in your sleep,
hold the curtain of night by the tail of its hair,
circle the halo of the previous morning.
Write these upon your heart
‘I will break your legend into half of two,
one will become a bridge for a true king,
the other will begin the tale of a path love called roses’.