The Earth

Between the heaven and hell
I chose Earth
The woman had a stronger presence
Depths and volumes
The heaven was only heaven
The hell was only just hell

The Earth was much more than heaven
The Earth was just as lethal as hell
The woman had prismatic presence
It was beyond the blacks and whites
It was beyond the angels and devils
It was gray, shadows and sunrises

The woman commanded Heaven and Hell
Disciplined them to colonize together
Forced them to be at her service
The woman got me down to my knees
Between the Heaven and Hell
I chose Earth

Death of an Idea

The idea could have lived
In a painting
In a poem
In an opera
In the galleria
In the theater
In the legend
But the idea died
Lived forever in the tomb

The Dead End

Why do I take that road again and again? I know it will lead me to a dead end. Then why does the road exist in the first place? Any road is a road because it reaches you somewhere. When a road takes you nowhere, to a dead end ..what do you call it? A Dead End…

I don’t know what lies at the end of the road. But something tells me it’s a dead end. Still I tread on. Why? Is it to confirm my intuition that it was always a dead end at the end of the road?

Maybe I should stop enforcing my notions of a road on a road. Or maybe I should tread on. I journey the journey every time unsure or almost sure that it would lead me to another dead end.

The dead end ends and leads me to another journey. The journey that I then make, tells me that the dead end is only a beginning actually. Beginning of a road which goes on. No one knows what lies at the end of it or whether there is any end at all.

If I were the rain..

If I were the rain
I would cry my heart out

If I were the rain
I would cleanse the world

If I were the rain
I would drown in the sea

If I were the rain
I would touch the butterfly lightly

If I were the rain
I would touch your brow

If I were the rain
I would rain