Worship, pray and meditate
Hidden smile:
a glistening eye violates
Bullets, guns, and bombs implicate…


Impassioned and dreamy to live,
the one-way lane to bliss
Drudgery and mundanity boredom gives
Failure be a toxic recipe
Mute, the soul seeks therapy
In passion lies life’s ecstasy
But what do you do if your passion doesn’t get you to that bliss?
You’ve immersed yourself in playing music, enjoyed every note, and you clearly don’t have it.
You write, you come alive, and you are mediocre at best, — on an inspired day.
You are painting and your art fulfills you like nothing else, and it doesn’t raise an eyebrow, least of all sell.
You do stuff that captivates and absorbs you, that you love, but never is there a financial reward or even a pat on the back.
You follow your passion constantly but you can’t make a living.
The search for a passionate solution is consuming you.
You are not level headed and will never be, — so help you gee oh dee.
You start doubting passion.
Something has to work, — desperately by now, and intrinsically you know it can only work if passion is present, yet it doesn’t happen.
You have more than one passion, oh definitely yes.
You are an appasionata or an appasionato.
You can’t find the One thing that tops them all.
Maybe you do but for whatever reason, you have to find the next best.
Can there ever be a next best? Will passion tolerate being ordered, sorted, prioritized, delayed?
You think you know what your passion is and where it lies, but, you also think you don’t.
Sometimes you even think: “What is passion? What am I passionate about?”
You back off because your passion is too far fetched. It surpasses even your belief with its imaginative enactment.
You question if passion is maybe the devils trick to lure you into his quarters and then again you think it’s a God given gift.
You ponder the idea that it’s too late to follow your passion.
Disillusion and disappointment mount as passion eludes you. Resigned, life becomes dull and thoughts start flirting with a philosophical question.
You always thought that passion was the only real certainty worth pursuing and now you are the laughing stock of all your ghosts.
Are you the doomed one?
Are you the example that others use to point out the senselessness of trying to follow one’s passion(s) instead of doing something ‘real’?
Should one perhaps pair one’s passion ‘to do something’ with one’s fascination ‘of something’? Could the search then be finally over?
Sometimes,
amongst all the noise we create,
we don’t hear the divine music within.

The Scream
Pastel on cardboard created by Norwegian Expressionist artist Edvard Munch 1895: was sold for nearly US$120 million, at Sotheby’s, in 2012.
I wail and scream. I howl
I bleed and I implore
Desperate cries distort my lips
Torn into a grimace
fearful open the visage
Clueless and lost I am
Anguish is upon my soul
Dark wrinkles now remain
where tears in streams
once hoped in vain
A devilish nightmare
horrible and mean,
from inside my ulcerating stomach
and my flailing heart,
forced its shadow onto my scene
Warning me, ‘beware’
A thousand cellars deep in agony,
dank with acid, bile, and irony
It’s me
I bang my head and bite my nails
My soul from sorrow is impaled
and my spirit poison has inhaled
wishing for the comfort in the grave
Eyes in white rage ajar
now burned out,
once upon a time two sunny stars
My fists are clenched,
spiked with ragged bony hands
stabbing aimlessly at burned out plans
I once knew another side of this fence
Screaming threatening,
helpless windmills are my arms
Harsh and vile the words accusingly escape
Hear me whoever and whatever you may be:
You are fearsome, belligerent, debilitating,
uncompromising, ruthless and emetic
I am on a vertex uncontrollably forlorn
Sickeningly, rhymeless, unpoetic
Pushed too far, beyond repair I’m harmed
I suffocate
It’s deadening
Disappointed, disillusioned, hurting bad
Events heaped upon me that made me crying sad
Life’s definition –
amongst buried papers, dogmas, egos
and coated in red tape:
An endless suffering caravan of greed and hate
Controlled by law enforced by society
I scream some more
It is too late
Piety, sobriety, and deity, notorious dubiety
What now?
I scream again, I scream
I tell the universe I’m sore
Sick of all the hell, right to the core
Liberate me, bring about a change
Never will I accept some fate
Turnaround my life
I still believe it can be done somehow
But scream I must
till then
Before I settle into dust
and blow away,
Scream, scream, scream in pain
Amen
As if something touches me, it's how I feel There's nothing I can see – A week ago my life aligned, I penetrated a wish of mine A willful effort gave it life carved from my dreams to rise Perfumed like rainbow candy is the air, my nostrils seek the whispering wind Like spumy foam of rose and honey my thinking thinks – Effervescent, present ever this affair My spirit lifts and floats away, unconfined this day On the brink of real and magic my mind dwells, fluttering its wings to a broomstick's spell Passion-power, imagination, mojo fuelled with elation, fondness for the sky, I am on the fly! The wheel then turned Today-o'clock is present time Loud rings my chime again proclaiming: another wish affirmed Today is real as true as now, the pain I feel, and what I miss and what I see and consciously allow This very wakeful moment a torch into my memory shines Archive of the past, like an empty bottle reminding me of wine Sweet though it was, bubbly and alive, that flight has landed, – now I drive Part of this moment in the future rests, inspired by the past It visualized and learned Towards the light it yearns, then takes to flight once more, leading to my heaven's door T'is not the last time that I'm flying higher than the stars Climbing, reaching further and afar Sending rhyme and prayer to the lofty shrine When I'm flying, paradise is mine Something touches me, it's what I feel There's something I can see – I think I'll make it real
It's a quiet afternoon Silence sings a tune Summer presses down with heat Far away the bustling city beat Resplendent green and lush the land Like a drawing from an artist's hand Tonight the light is called full moon Orange circle drifting in the sky Every star is faint and shy Waiting till the moon has set and on the grass the dew is wet A chance to twinkle one more time and send a message that might rhyme The rising sun brings their goodbye In the kitchen coffee brews the antidote for those who snooze The day in steps of hours walks but to the time in seconds talks Today the heat has lost the fight thunder, rumbles, lightning bright The clouds the moon refuse Obscured, the moonlight hides away Divergent thoughts like night and day No one knows what all is hidden but keeping secrets is forbidden Sealed is the book, only the title is exposed Unblock the code of fate with poetry and prose Dance on the words without delay Convert to action and to play Hear their sound and what they say Words are the mirror and the soul They tell the story as a whole Inside their heart the meaning waits Once opened up they flood the gates Dance on the words across the Milky Way
A web
high in a tree
the morning sun
takes it from me
For hours at night
it spun through my mind
Came sunshine
it left me behind
The web
silver and gray
like my hair
but thinner today
and fading away
Left by the creator
a remnant hangs on
Now a few strands
later its gone
The web
there it was, really,
but nothing remains
The sun came and took
My mind had a look
Gone in the flames
What was its name?
A web
perfect, with purpose
Like all creation
living with anticipation
Returns back to source
when the light calls
Begins a new circle
of cause
The web
like silk in the air
on finest of threads
hardly it’s there
like thoughts
in my head
A web
came to be
for reasons evading me
Like the vision
creating derision
amongst those
that hear my decision
of wanting to maybe not be
The web
attached with the glue
of belief
A wind blows to test
but it cannot undo
Even in grief
it knows what to do
A web
perfect in every way
Forgotten in time
after only a day
Forever, a concept,
hard to comprehend
Found in the secret code
of the moment
I know you are always closer than near
and you left
not because you didn’t want to be here
you were taken
Loveless my world turned gray and cold
I was bereft
A void filled with tears I could not hold
I was shaken
Forever you are gone I was told
Eternally, forever, that is what I hear
Your laughter and gaiety in my soul made a mark
that’s why it is so terribly hard
Your love and your touch I will always remember
Caring and giving and loving
you were my earliest mentor
Then pain and rivers of tears eroded my joy
It hurt and it punished, relentless
It meant to destroy
Alone and astray I walked over thorns in my life
I once had a heart but it was cut with a knife
No reason or answer will ever make sense
That hole you left in my life is immense
I bleed and I cry but don’t show it anymore
knocked down on my knees, devastated on the floor
Wherever you are and whatever you do
for me only one thing is truer than true
Wretched with pain from the hell I’ve been through
I wonder, do you miss me like I miss you?
Give me one drop of your tears to behold
One piece of your pain so that I know
Tell me you haven’t forgotten after so many years
that I am yours and now I can also find peace
All that I am and whatever things I do
When all is lost and I lie crashed without a clue
Miles from nowhere, remote and out of reach
My world concussed and I have lost my speech
High on a dune with the wreckage tossed
Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of you
I see someone with their hand held out
“Come hither,” I hear through my desperate shout
“I’ll save you, any time at any cost”
Just a drop of your tear I wish I could touch
I don’t know what and when
It is all hidden in my pen
Memories of forgotten days
are mixed with fears
of future’s ways
And even if the sun shines bright
I might not realize that it’s light
The darkness just like fire spreads
The night is glowing cold, the black I dread
This is the story of my plight
A mind so bent a crumbled string looks straight
Nothing, clueless, lost, I wait
Sometimes my dreams dream that I elevate
another force inside then subjugates
I’m told my worries are man made
The coffee cold, unshaven, and the purse deplete
A worn old shirt that screams of ironing that it needs
A figure sculpted by the thoughts the mind conjures
and by all events that life endures
Continuously I seek and seek
In this reality the hundred meters that I see
must stretch out of necessity
beyond that mark towards my ecstasy
unless I cannot choose my destiny
But, how then could I be me
Why am I stuck as if I’m planted like a tree
Forever in one place, I cannot flee
When I was born what words were put into my crib
“Go sail the seas but finally we sink your ship”
In the clouds I want to be eternally
A told me that I should be B
C told me that I should be D
Eventually then when I was E
They screamed and said I must be G
I turned around and went to P
Flashed them a sign reversed the T
Now I’m the Cuban Susans Whoman He
Nothing, clueless, lost without a key
I am sinking in some sea
To the water I will eventually return
Humans decided that I needed to burn
So hot even my soul in smoke evaporates
Escaping from these dire straits
I will not be put behind some other gates
Spill me, let me take another turn