Midnight At New Year
An ode to my world at the stroke of midnight on new year. I look to all the corners to the people who matter to me and feel reassured in my contentment.
An ode to my world at the stroke of midnight on new year. I look to all the corners to the people who matter to me and feel reassured in my contentment.
Then that’s why there’s so much room for deja vu, familiarity and seemingly magical connections in my life. No wonder then I’m frequently bored…I’ve seen all of this before. Who’s got the time or the inclination..or the need, to recreate the entire production again? When all I have to do…
A trip to the movies has some unsuspecting confessions spilling out in the dark.
She’s generous. Just bring her a great deal of stories. But he knew that already.
We’d rather be immortalized as heroes or villains in history than survive the daily mundane. Love makes us fools.
We live in cold storage during the week, shutting away emotions, fears, aches and fevers till such a time that we can experience them ‘on our own time’.
He looks at her from the corner of his eyeThinking she won’t noticeSecretly hoping she willSo secret, he won’t even admit to himself She feels his lookLike sunlight, warm on her cheeksHer eyes stay downcastShielded from his blinding gazeWarmed nevertheless by its intensity Then it starts to rain.
If love were a poem, I’d be an ode to your being.
If love were a song, I’d be a serenade to you.
If love were a painting, I’d be a blind artist.
Phone in hand, she dials with her thumb. It is a number that has traveled from a dog-eared phone diary, to an organizer, several internet address books, an online contacts list and a couple of mobile phones. As the number dials, she thinks back to the last time they spoke,…
This one is for the people I’ve held in a mental embrace, without letting them know. Maybe someday I will. Maybe tomorrow will be that day.