Monday, 21 March 2016

The rebirth

On the long mud path to high mountains,

an old man was painting on scrap.

Grey hair and wrinkles,

sweat and bright blue paint wetting the ground below.

There was only the sound of wind

and the strokes of an old wooden brush.

Perhaps seeing my curious look 

he said, "This is for when I come again".

Sunday, 20 March 2016

The only question

He shouts, laughs and gives orders,

on the third floor of this tall building.

What an energetic man! People say.

On another evening I met him in the lift.

Just two of us.

Are you real? I asked him.

What do you mean? He looked at me with a strange face.

Oh..No..I thought you were someone else, I said.

Monday, 14 March 2016

For my eternal

That road was almost empty except for a few robins.

Dry yellow leaves were dancing in the wind.

I saw a woman walking from the other side.

Curly hair and dark brown eyes.

Have we met before? I asked her.

She looked at me with a gentle smile and said,

You asked me the same when we met years before.

Wednesday, 17 February 2016

Living memories

The rain that didn’t make me drenched 

The wind that didn’t blow away my thoughts

The love that I lost

The years that I existed, but not lived

The smiles that I began to distrust

Wednesday, 10 February 2016

A dream

bOOKS...sTACKS OF BOOKS

cAN'T COUNT THEM

tHEY ARE DRY AND HARD

bUT PEOPLE ARE HUNGRY

hUNGRY FOR REAL FOOD

lET'S MAKE DELICIOUS DISHES

wHAT DO WE HAVE TO EAT?

wE DON'T HAVE ANYTHING BUT BOOKS

lET'S HAVE THEM..bOOKS..lET'S COOK THE BOOKS