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The salty air of your Phocean streets grabs my hand to take me on a journey with no destination but the Now.
2024.10.21
Welcome to my east-looking garden.
The salty air of your Phocean streets grabs my hand to take me on a journey with no destination but the Now.
2024.10.21
Apples of all colors and shapes. Still lives in motion, bridging the gap between heart and mind, in this impressionist waking dream.
2024.10.20
From the moon, all is sincerely quiet. Only the barks of your unkept emotions travel through the void to hit the hidden face. The moon owes no response.
2024.10.19
Anxious waters rising to flood and decimate the plains of tranquility. How blind could we be, that we couldn't see the warnings?
2024.10.18
The grass whispers in my ear, afraid to speak out loud, for what will people say? Tell me everything, sweet grass: what was the last thing that made you cry? What makes you want to scream in anger? What kind of frustration is slowing down your growth? I want to hear it all.
2024.10.17
They bend reality to their will, in the realm of post-truth. Poisonous tongues, twisted rhetoric: have you no shame at all?
2024.10.16
Truth-bending soothsayers spit their lies in our eyes, and we mistake them for tears. With a blurry sight, we continue to trust their games, not knowing the rules keep changing. They're not con artists, they're politicians.
2024.10.15
Forgetfulness. Your curse was my blessing. From my solitary lighthouse I shed light onto the past, and guide curious vessels to new discoveries: old wounds, forsaken selves, the distressing calls of sirens too long ignored.
2024.10.14
There's a park in my head where inner children come to play. They listen to the music of their hearts, as they burn down their masks. The game of hide-and-seek is over.
2024.10.13
Tears of joy fall from the sky. The peaceful innocence of the rain nurtures our frail human branches. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of a discreet smile behind the clouds. It is all I need.
2024.10.12