MIDNIGHT POETRY – ‘The Formless’

allow me to ponder
the living art
of reading bodies
greatly overlooked
for its accuracy

what forms the body
is our mental chatter
reoccurrence of feelings
when we meet new person
we know instantly
who they are
before they talk

shaping the formless
embodying the emotions
hands holding trauma
shoulders carrying
weight of the world
legs the support structure
of the living energy
skin thin easy to get under

the reason we often wish
to change our body is
due to our incongruent
thoughts, words and actions
we feel we should look one way
yet the reflection in the mirror
speaks volumes of how
we truly function inside

brave up and
embrace ourselves
just the way
we are

perfect

for spotify subscribers – the poem above read by the author

MIDDAY POETRY – ‘Ungrounded’

free of boundaries
there is no limit to
what can be achieved
in unexpected
situations

hovering above our head
aircraft of uneven shape
soldiers of the stars
landing on earth
ungrounded

unrelated scattered
yet emerging from the one
mind
personal attack on
existence

unite in solitude
resolute and wild
unmoved unshaken
staying true
to the one
heart

love the haters
all they ask is
more compassion
gratitude and love
accept them
gently
disarmed

recording of the above poem read by the author

MIDNIGHT POETRY – ‘Live Until’

So early so much life left
Unexpected departure
Cut from existence
Time of sorrow
For a friend

Reflecting
Living a full life
Cherishing each moment
Finding the hidden treasures
In every heart beat and every eye blink
Breathed by existence
Alive
Until not

recording of the above poem read by the author

MORNING POETRY – ‘Writer’s Block’

clean sheet of screen paper
fingers ready to type
the phone makes a sound
distracted and curious
who is on the other side
just have a quick look

one thing leads to another
a few hours later
finally back to typing
now all prepared
the muse is late

waiting waiting waiting
patiently for her arrival
in the meantime
thoughts about food enter

here come hunger pangs
or perhaps just peckish
no space for poetry
inside an empty mind

peek into the fridge
not much choice
where is the muse
maybe stuck in traffic

banana an energy boost
maybe it will inspire
the phone rings
lengthy discussion about nothing

back to the writing screen
where is the muse so long
when one needs her most
what has happened to her

put on some smooth tunes
that will help for sure
falling into meditation
memories come and go

an hour later awakened
from retro emotional trip
when the music finished
startled by cheesy voice in ads

muse still nowhere to be seen
must have slept in
best to think in positives
she will come again

until that moment though
there is not much one can do
other than
to write
nevertheless