Heaven’s Door

My mind opens up as a bud with suspended dew drops does in to the presentIn the garden of my mind blossoms the red of dahlias and its scent.The ticking clock – an accountant born to alarm and calculate,To encourage one to make haste, chimes a rhythm that’s never late. The crow’s cry plays its…

Love Has Murdered My Brain

I write about love like I have a clue about it’s strings.A musician rejected by his own instrument.I’ve heard rumors of all the joy and butterflies it brings,I give this love thing a try with no improvement. Seated on the couch, I could feel loneliness clutch my heart,The pain in my chest and fear of…

I Am That Which I Am

I am the maker of the clothThe fabric of my life.I am everything that I need,The builder, the breaker.I am the tailor and the dressThe scissors and the thread.I am the floor under the feetAnd the man that walks on it. I am the bullet through the throatThe blood red history booksI am the warm…

Pen To Paper – The Art Of Poetry

Take a painting class, learn how to say ‘I’m a writer’ in Portuguese, stumble upon fencing or lean your way to gardening. Try your very best to do anything but write a poem. If all else fails, open a wattpad account and scream about it from the top of your roof. At first, you will…