Poetry & Prose

Low Born

Written in one of my sombre moods. I reread it today for the first time since I wrote it. Give it a go and tell me what you think.

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Thank You

      A few days ago I got an email from a dear friend and loyal supporter here on newsvine. I was touched by her note and have decided to return to newsvine as an active participant.

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Just a note to let you know.

Recently, I received a email from a newsvine friend expressing sadness at my absence from this community. I responded to the email and after contemplating her words decided to publish this short explanation. I am doing fine, but am experiencing a little bout of writer's block.

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Axis. (a poem)

With an influx of pain. I try to wash disdain, Plethoric battles fought, With might I never thought. Truth is the ultimate sword, It will strike down each lied word, Turmoil in my soul and mind, Fears all dissipate like wind.

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El toro y la luna. (latin song translated)

The moon is combing it's hair, In the mirrors of the river, And the bull is watching her, In between the glass jar, hiding.   When the happy night arrives, And the moon goes hiding from the river, The young bull, goes into the water, Saddened that the she has gone.   Th …

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Stayed tune for a special broadcast, My life!

If it makes you cry, oh well, if it makes you laugh be my guest, if you think for any second that my hope will ever end you will be surprised and I might even surprised myself.  Google it, do some work: "go into hell for a heavenly cause..."

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Foresight. (a poem)

Unknowingly in my longing, Looking to end all the yearning, A surprise alleviating, Wonderful new beginning, Crawling towards delightedness.

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Outlook. (a poem)

Embarked anew, full of vigor, Years reflected in a dusty mirror, Options encircling me as hungry sharks, Pains and strifes peeling off like tree barks. Frozen within trepidations, Listing from all limitations, Looking for all's inspirations, Saddened by their alterations.

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Journey, A (a poem)

Chosen from a bushel, rotting the rest, Given a challenge, a nevertending test, Walking alone only fills my caldron, With me travel my faithful squadron.

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Gift, The (thank you)(a poem)

For the shadows of my mind, A gift was given in kind, A breath of life and a kiss of shame, Trying to figure from where it all came.   The life that could have been, The sight of the most keen, A touch of the unknown, All that I have ever known.   The smell of the simpl …

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