Poems
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Glass shards reflect the abyss in crescent moths, A rainbow arcs like a necklace on the bluebird. The dial spins slowly, tracing diamond to violet, The eye of the stair ascends to meet the horizon. The tide pulls shadows through skies of heliotrope.
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No puedo perder el tiempo si estoy viviendo en él. El amor llega, pecado de medianoche, fuego que arde en la noche silente. No puedo perder el cambio, podría cambiar mis sentimientos. Ojo sobre el agua, ahogo de sueños, en un mar de suspiros, donde los deseos flotan. Los sentimientos cambian, las personas se desvanecen,
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A market found its place atop a great green giant. Many wandered in to find traces of lost fragments of stars, slowly giving away what little time they had gained by standing by and waiting. A long line stretched across the hill while they waited patiently. Suddenly, the stars gained consciousness and started replicating themselves,
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This image was created with the assistance of ChatGPT, using AI-generated visuals based on a detailed description provided by me. Silver stems rise through the earth, crowned with pale stars. It is not the velvet of roses nor the pulse of red poppies, Not the fleeting blush of springtime’s first bloom. Oh, asphodel, do you know
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This image was created with the assistance of ChatGPT, using AI-generated visuals based on a detailed description provided by me. Just as persimmons are sweet, orange fruits that grow on trees, When night comes, the terrible stars pierce holes in the sky. I hold the weight of stones in my chest, heavy, unyielding. Just as mountains
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Photo by Murray Campbell on Unsplash There is a single time On a simple mind That fears the velocity of time Running by Expecting why’s Knowing everything Falls off the sky Ideas catching fire And burning out Dualism of emotion No whereabouts Imagination shifting Awareness drifting Flowing downstream Rewind identity Stuck in density Matter is only
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This image was created with the assistance of ChatGPT, using AI-generated visuals based on a detailed description provided by me. I stand between the ticking clocks, A breath, a pause, an endless knot, Not yet this, nor fully that, A shadow dances where I’m not. In every whisper, every glance, A thousand lives in me perchance —
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This image was created with the assistance of ChatGPT, using AI-generated visuals based on a detailed description provided by me. Mass carries energy, and that energy is life. Inside everyone, there is light, and that light is energy. Energy is motion, and motion is force; force pushes us forward, and forward leads to the future. The
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A pessimistic idea of a loveless life; a fraction of love, a maker of laughs, a simple ignorance, a broken voice; living in stints of wind, reaching for mistakes when none have been made. It is all an idea, a mighty discussion of fragility, a torn record of history. There are those left in the
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There are mini versions of me. Reflected images in mirrors unseen. Bright quartz glowing in the darkness. Growing forest reaches for the sky. An existence based on a lie. An illusion of allusions. Electrical grids forming around me. Force field made of glass. Inside there was only mass — Pure and uninterrupted in origin.
One Way Life 