Tag: creative

New York, I'm Honored

New York, I'm Honored

Musings from the top of the Empire State Building, Floor 102 A lot of times in life things seem to move so fast that we can barely catch our breath and find the energy to keep up. The incessant vibrancy and energy that the city 

The Silhouette

The Silhouette

I rideSmooth sailing engine down the Big Apple streetsPartition drawn up catching whispers and breathsThough I may lead the way I still sit in the backgroundSpotlights reflecting, bending from me to them.I am invisibleThe vehicle, the messenger, the speakerCollect all their secrets and empty glassesThey 

The Seekers

The Seekers

The stars play hide and seekWith the skylines in your eyesDouble vision horizonsDeepening blue ocean tonesLightweight tinseled breath,Inhaling constellations — connections.Under the surface, we exist.We are the seekers.But what are “we”?Each twinkling shoots,Knocking their neighbors like bocce in summerBringing them closer, more intimate,Yet further by 

A Conversation With Cancer

A Conversation With Cancer

Cancer:“ A half empty cup can never be fullTo hear a pessimist is quite optimisticFor many feel insane that they are loosing controlOf the feelings caught in the seams of their smilesOthers can feel a similar shudder,Knowing that pain can never go awayFor its memory 

Fences and Thrones

Fences and Thrones

If only you’d stopped running,You’d know the truth by now,If you’d only brought your head backDown from all those clouds,And I’m disappointed that in all thatTime you were the one,Who would blend with all the others—Another one that loves to run.So you’re sitting on the 

Forget-Me-Knot

Forget-Me-Knot

Tie the knot of a love detouraround the turn the heart shall befriendfinding truth and simplicity galoreslowly waiting to reach the endcrawling along a tortured roadallowing only thoughts to flowerupt in fervid flame to goadchanging the light, now able to gothe stop sign stands around 

A Poet's Heartbeat

A Poet's Heartbeat

The air is regurgitated and sprawls me across the floorThe blow causes a convulsion,Writhing my thoughts together in an irregular motion.I am drowning in deeper watersAs each second dies byThe pandemonium of the irregular heartbeatClaps away from the monotonous normWe are emotionally disturbing creatures.As every 

Miss Dior

Miss Dior

Her favourite was Dior.Watercolours drip on a baby canvasThe glossy Vogue advertisement reincarnateSimilar, but I knew the difference.It feels like flying,The brush strokes danced creating colour,Across the Parisienne skylineOr is it more like floating?Delicate fingers enlace the ribbon of future,Grasping tightly to what could be,Desperate 

The Race

The Race

We race everyday.Just him and I.But usually it seems like I don’t even try.It’s actually strange, because I’m competitiveBut it makes no difference when life gets ahead of it.I usually stay for as long as is possible,Cuddling sleep like there’s no tomorrowForgetting the race that 

The Dream Catcher

The Dream Catcher

the little girl sits at the window she is the dream catcher the people walking by pay no attention but she analyzes, in the few moments of their passing their essence spills on the pavement she collects their dreams and adds them to her own