The Tempest is still there!
The same longing,
The same drowning
Rain
Born, like in birth
From pain.
Yes, I can swim,
But not without you,
Not even,
Life, can I
Totally regain…
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You can’t replace who’s gone,
You can’t cover the Sun,To accept your fate,Face a clean slate,Easier said than done.
What’s behind the made-up face?
Behind the makeup mask,There’s unknown spaceWho can predict the ride?We all do wear some makeup,Real or false or shrewdTrying to turn our vital tide,And language is the perfect, PlayAll made up, on our side.
She loved him for his mind,
So brilliantly knowledgeable, without hesitation,But she could not love him for his heartEven if she had wanted to with all her heartFor none he had,No kindly feelings,No compassion, no sensationsNo tenderness, no passionCold like Ice, Winter’s ration.Sadly,She could not love, a heart of stone,So all her life, she was alone.
Mañana is not Tomorrow,
The Time that we all borrow,Is Never here to stay.
The joy that writing brings
That can compare,Nor that we best can share.Writing is an ArtOf inner soul and flight,Of unimaginable mightOf feelings that have wings,Of inner songs that singOf new dawns that arrive,Of human tendernessWhere words can sweetly nestAnd all great Love you’ll findIn Wisdom’s deep caress,Imagination’s sight,Its Wings forever bright.
Strange creatures that speak,
Ignorant Sphinx?Dr.Jekyll, Mr. Hyde or both?The Great Paradox,Are we really human?Thru the years,Little gained, a lot lost.