The Love Syndrome

  I used to love you, but I never quite succeeded, which is why I love you still and, the worse, the more, since you were always unattainable and therefore irresistible to almost an unbearable degree, which is why I can’t stop loving you but must go on and love you still, the worse, the more.  

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Creativity and love

  It is an urge that can’t be stopped, and somehow they seem closely knit together, creativity resulting and in some way neutralising the effect of love into the purest constructivity. I could not do without you both, the flow of love discreetly channeling into a force of nature that can not be stopped but must be let out in

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Grieve over grief.

When someone dies you feel the loss, You grieve with others who share the loss. We are natural mourners who honour others, Standing firm in our beliefs as we permit others. Time is a great healer, memories remain. Pain and joy are ever present in our minds. Trying to forgive persecution but not all. I vow to thee my country

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the unknown

nobody knows the secret,  nobody knows the mystery,  hankering desperately for power, and respect,    with weapons, and words,  garbage all over the world,  a dead end closing all trajectory   the spiritual and the material  spaces, the learned ignorant schools, fighting like rascals and fools, debris of insipid ideas filling the sultry air with more of dirt, bringing in

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end to end

  the darkness covering debris of darknesses, a jeopardizing journey where destruction is the destiny; despite inventions, discoveries, changing versions of technologies, notwithstanding volumes of novels and stories pouring from the fertile spirit; the crippled mind is lagging far behind, as a homicidal habit; blind, it cannot see the light, it refuses to see the end, the world in peril,

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When I think of you.

I see your smile it’s as wide as the moon. I feel your warmth just like the sun. I hear your voice, so sweet, like a flock of nightingales singing till dawn. I see the light and energy in you as I do the stars. You are so spirated, I feel the power of a fresh spring day, when our

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The Road to Perdition

  When fate keeps battering you all around and strangling you in stress and worries, catching you in traffic incidents and driving you to nuts by faltering computers infected by viruses and crashing all the time, when harassment is all you get for being right by all those who can’t see that they are wrong, when ruin threatens you and

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Moving on

  My love, I do pursue you, but I never seem to catch you, since you always lead me on to further ways astray which ever makes it quite impossible to ever find the right way back or any right way, for that matter. But I pray you: Lead me on, and I will follow you continuously like so far;

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