Daily Prompt: Home

I had a nightmare

And in this realm

I didn’t have a home

Searching, looking . . . for that home

And the fear

En route to nowhere

Engulfed me

But what if in that moment, I could escape from the outside?

Be present, be still

Home is a moment

And when awake

Home is tangible, supposedly comfortable

Where we like nice things

That we . . . need?

Always something to compare

Are you, or am I,  ever really there?




An abandoned island or dilapidated house

Maybe a continuum between the two

There’s shelter, I suppose

Did I choose from the inside, or universe, was it you?


The next time I want to find a way out,

I’ll consider the power of choice

Is there a price or pay-off?

Well, that won’t always be the case. . .

The universe moves at it’s own universe pace


Choose to be free

And put out those good vibes

We’ll sprinkle ourselves with fairy dust

How about I think of kittens and fluffy clouds?

Paint the picture of where I want to be

I’ll be the owner of the house or the mermaid in the sea


It’s on display before your eyes

Is it an opportunity in disguise?

Forget about the others, they don’t always care

Therefore it’s always your choice,

It can be a dream or another nightmare.


Daily Prompt: Moment of Clarity

Latent realizations

Brought to the fore

Mess of the mind

Creating the awe

The moment to catch the time

That has run away

Dissolved and blurred

With the music changing

Yet still happy inside

Creating fear

By the hindsight and irony

Dotted all over the place. . .

Craving time, craving space

Use the time that’s mine

Vivid thoughts I recall in awe

Perhaps a wake up call

Creating virtue

Claims back the time.




A Day, or Two


When flying to a foreign land

Is no longer realistic

When sitting still in one place

Makes me pessimistic

I realize there’s no running away

From everything that’s here

But if I don’t make a quick escape

I’ll lose it, this I fear

I’ll lose the person I became

When I was far away

I have to leave this town

If only for a day

A day or two is all I need

To get that extra space

A day or two is needed

To run from this rat race.

Out of Place


Nothing is in place

Except for your delusions

Standing in the way

Causing room for your confusion

It’s meant to fall in place

But there’s always something missing

It’s supposed to come together

When in fact it’s really spinning

And you soon realize

These ‘things’ are not in order

Fit the societal border

Or continue to forever be

Out of place.


Magic Trees

What would you do if it grew on trees. . . ?

Would you discard it or hold it and keep it and use it, taking what you need?

Would you spread it, feel it, or enrich your life with it?

Tell me, what would you do?

Could it come in a pill, a bottle of sorts? If there is no seed, or remedy. . .

I picture trees, bottles, or pills, to rid me of these ills, the things i want to change.

Make a wish, put it out there, it’ll disappear. . .

The solution to the indecision, the doubt, and any remains of misery.

The run away remedy

Crossroads have stop signs

What about  about magical trees?


I wrote this when I was in Taiwan, during a stage of indecision and utter frustration – a time when my thoughts were in overdrive. I looked everywhere for answers to my questions, but I wasn’t winning. So I just wished it was as easy as appearing in a bottle, as a pill, or in a tree. If it could just be picked from a tree. . . whatever it may be.


It is

If it’s rainy, the sun cannot be summoned

If it’s gridlocked, surely it cannot be cleared

If it’s paradoxical, how can it be normal?

If it’s your nature, I cannot change it.

Without control

There’s liberation.

It is depressing

It is stressful

It is confusing.

It is frustrating

It is.

Fallen Crescendo

Show yourself

Unlike the moon

Hiding behind the clouds

Mere glimmers of light inside

One minute it’s there,

The next it’s gone.

Baring itself as the full moon I want,

Only to hide behind a navy cloud

Draping it with mystery

And suppressed desire

The crescendo beckoned,

I caught a glimpse

And your light disappeared.


This poem is about reaching a crescendo of sorts, the peak level of your experience in relationships. I would also say, that an anti-climax thereafter is a possibility. At the crescendo, people are seen in their best light. You receive that light, and naturally, you want more. But that could be it. That could be the only light you ever see.

Imploding Within, Exploding Without

Exactly a year ago, I wrote the below poem. I didn’t really share it with many people; I’m weird like that with poetry. It’s interesting to look back and see what I was going through at the time, because I haven’t felt this way in so long. Full of energy – self-destructive but energetic  nonetheless. Now I’m brain foggy and it’s more of a dull mist than a cloud.

Implode Within

Wired, tired,down and out,

singing, laughing,

jumping about.

When the universe tries to mess with what’s inside

It’s better to find a retreat and hide.

When I lash back and ignore all the rules

I join the mass of ignorant fools

Who believe in the beauty of their clouds

And when that cloud absorbs the high , and gets filled to the brim,

It has no other choice but to implode within.

I wrote this piece after going through a whirlwind cycle. It was all about the resistance to going under and riding the low wave. I likened this to a cloud . I also thought about idealists, who create their own perception of reality, and I pondered this notion. I am still undecided.