Poem: Zombie Love

I have a habit of writing small pieces onto the ‘notes’ app on my phone whenever the mood strikes and I don’t feel like whipping out my note pad and pen. I was rifling through all the different pieces on the app and discovered an old one I hadn’t blogged yet. So here is the odd titled ‘Zombie Love’.
Whatchya think? 🙂

Zombie Love
I’d rather hold you
even if it were for a moment
a moment brief as a blink
than to go through life
never having touched you
even the lightest of touch
till the end of my days
for those days would be without meaning
like land to sea-life
or a human without essence
that is kept safe by a beating heart
I’d be a zombie
forever walking a path
hidden and dark
eternal unaware
that you bring the dead back to life
if I never got to love you
even if it was for one breath
the last breath I could take
it would be worth all the minutes on Earth.

Poem: A writer

I’m a writer
I hide
or play
sometimes dance or break
depends on where I am
who I am
on the page.
Don’t tell me
characters are
simply that
not a form
not a voice
they have.
Don’t go denouncing
a tale I weave
it may only be fiction
in name.
Sometime, worlds will collide
sometimes stars dim
or I travel galaxies
in search of something
human indeed,
and in the dusk of an evening
someday I could be a saviour
and a villain,
someday I’ll laugh
or cry
under the veil of ink.

Poem: Bumblebee

Flutter my little bumblebee
flutter with wings that zing
and sing me songs of summer indeed,
flutter my little bumblebee
your gold and black flitting
like cotton candy treat,
won’t you swim through air
laden with sweet callings of nectar rich
from this flower to that,
as if in the blink of an eye
they shall vanish.
Flutter, my little bumblebee
for you are the joy that brings
the honey to my being.
Flutter, and let me wonder
how it is that you take
such beauty from blooms
and no harm come by.
Flutter, my little beauty
my darling girl
like the colorful and singing bumblebee
leave me the marveling at your beauty
the childhood that brings peace
that your laughter shall always grow
brighter and brighter
Flutter, bumblebee.

Poem: Dark Guardian

With the dark days,
I walk,
head dropped and collar up,
remaining in the shadows,
as the rifeness of disease rumbles,
a city already at the brink of a fall,
their wars futile,
their grudge petty,
yet more and more innocent fall,
if only they knew the price paid,
the askance of a life,
the soul it takes watching your own crawl,
on hands and knees in a pool of their own.
I stalk, unable to help,
unable to lend a hand,
for they will run, for sure,
at the sight of me,
my pallor, unmistakable red coursing through my eyes,
and from my shadows at night I watch,
their mortality fall so easily,
what I wouldn’t give for a death such as that,
or any death at all.
Decades have melted into centuries,
all my own gone,
either scared of me, or never knowing what I’ve become.
Now I keep to myself,
unsure how many more losses I can bare,
and in the shadows I linger,
unable to ask if I may step out,
into their precious light,
and help.

Until one night,
I see her,
and the forgotten desire rises,
I follow, enchanted and watch her step
into the safety of her home,
and from that night I linger
forever near that door.
I finally have a purpose,
a figure to revere,
in the gloom,
thus the shadows no longer haunt me,
but help as I guard a flower in hell.


They whispered
a name that caught my breath
as if a firefly upon a dark sky,

Incidental Love

Incidental love
the blazing blaring luck
of two miserable souls
confused upon flesh and blood
that this was what love was
to see each other as physical
devoid of emotions
and so they continued upon the treacherous path
and days upon days pass
slowly, gradually teaching them the value
of each other’s company
or the fact that they have seeped into each other’s lives
like fragrant to the cloth
and like such the perfume of love seeped
through the cold walls
crumbling the stoned in heart.


One by one
we all fall
some while young
others in their age, as matured as wine
we see eventually life as a walk
alongside someone holding our hand
through the heavy, cool fog
dazzled by light and dark
and laughter and love
some pain and joy
each making their mark
on the soul that loves
without limits set by age and ability.
One by one
we fall.

Tides of time

Recently I saw a little program on TV that addressed the issue of bullying in schools and how that influences how some teens nowadays are driven to suicide more than ever before.
Obviously I can’t pretend I’m the only voice for the cause, but have to say the following poem was inspired by this story of a 15 year old who felt she couldn’t take the taunts anymore and hence took her own life. As you read this, please take a moment to think about all these young people who feel stifled.

Tides of Time
Turn the tides of time
I want to see your face again
chiseled as it were
out of golden Sun and clay
striking hearts a plenty
a little God among men
to think how silly in retrospect it all is
to think of youngsters who dared say
‘Here I am, worship me’.
Turn the fate of life
show an alleyway
to lead me to see you
as you are now – grown older
but would you be wiser
still feeling yourself made of Sun
and chiseled in clay
as were the great men of legends and myths
or will I stumble upon a face the years have changed
into etched lines that reveal the very human you betrayed.
Turn the tides
let us see
how the years have treated you, and me
the Gods and the mortals we be.

Baiting Time

The days go by
faster and faster
till time, I can no longer hold
nor slow down or alter
and the nervous butterflies
capture the inside
ever sickly
till there is no more left to twist
the eyes thus jolt from date to date
and watch the calender weeks slip
and ever closer the day comes
one that only slightly excites
for there are nerves fried
for reason unknown
and tired, continue to stare
trying to glimpse time
aiming the hook and bait
hoping it shall bite
and slow down
ever delay the temporary goodbye.
Somewhere inside,
there is no wish to fly.

Spring of Life

This little light of mine
why don’t you make it shine
shower some love and tenderness
show how the days may be spent
how the season turn from green to gold
and ice melts from higher peaks down rivers rich
and the green ruptures pastures dry
in the field of life
where you and I wait for spring.