I was walking next to an elderly woman.

Suddenly she stopped, bent over, and picked up a dime

that was lying there on the sidewalk.

"Wow!!" I said to her. "Now you will have ten days of good luck."

"Yes," she replied, smiling. "My late grandfather is  always dropping money for me from Heaven."

I smiled at this thought.

Then she said, "I,wish he would start dropping hundred-dollar bills !"

The time you first saw me
Was the falling of the seed
Into rich life-giving soil

The moment you noticed me
Was the seed itself
The start of a blooming love

When you started getting to know me
The first roots told hold in the earth
And wouldn’t let go

When you became the friend I turned to for everything
The first sprout sprung up from the land
Turning toward sunlight

When friendship started turning into something more
Stem grew inch by inch
Up and up, until leaves were born

When we first kissed
The flowerbud was coming out of its shell
Taking a breath of fresh air

When all my heart goes to you
The flower flourished
A perfect symbol of our love

How beautiful art thou; rain.
Pittering and pattering, into nothingness.
Dripping and dropping in a steady beat.
Splitting and Splattering but soothing.
What a feat.

How beautiful art thou; rain.
Small and light, crystal and clear.
Sent from the heavens above.
The gentle weeping and tear.
What a sight.

How beautiful art thou; rain.
With soft drops to the loudest of splashes.
Big but small, quiet but not so.
Call upon the lightening, your company.
What a sound.

How beautiful art thou; rain.
Washing away sadness and bring new life.
Day or night, you see through everything.
Morning or evening, your steadiness fails to change.
What a night.

He looked at me with hunger,
But not like a wolf to a sheep,
He stared at me in awe,
Because of me he didn't sleep.

I knew he wanted me first,
He was practically a puddle,
When I shook his hand,
All he could do was stutter,

When I was intrigued,
He came a bit too near,
And he nibbled and chewed,
But I didn't have fear,

I let him inside me,
In all the ways he wanted,
I was literally wasted,
From then I was haunted,

He slapped my thighs,
And held on real tight,
He liked that noise,
When I'd squeal just right,

He'd look at my lips,
Just plump and pink,
He'd lean in and bite them,
I couldn't even think,

I couldn't stand him,
I hated him so much,
But I was defenseless,
I was lost in his clutch,

I was leashed and tied,
Lost in his lies,
I was addicted to sin,
He'd opened my eyes,

I loved how he touched me,
He knew what was right,
I hated how he held me,
It was always too tight.

Not for me
does the sun burn,
not for me
does the earth turn,
not for me
do the waters flow,
not for me
does the moon glow.
not for me
do the birds sing,
not for me
do the birds not sing.
We are not
a family of loved ones,
we are not
companions in hate either,
we are just here now,
may be living till then
may be not.

It’s no beauty nor ugliness,
neither chaos nor finesse.
We’re in a maze,
trying to figure out,
what’s it all about.
Some say accident,
some say miracle,
some say a hole,
some say the pinnacle.

It isn’t a story
but an act extempore,
some act slavish,
some act free.

Until we figure it out,
Let us love each other all out.
Let us hold our warmth
in our embraces,
Soothe me when
my heart races.

Even if I never figure it out,
I’d know what love is about,
You could become my universe,
And I’d soothe myself knowing you,
If I ever could.

I be for you,
You be for me,
Let us love each other all out,
Even if we don’t figure it out.

Let us love each other
So that a few more verses are born
To crawl majestically on the thorn
Of the fear to lose the one you love
To finally get bruised and scattered
Letter by letter
Fetter by fetter,
falling apart and joining the letters of past
which fell like these long time back,
waiting for some more to fall in the future.

Scared you seem,
I wanted you to be,
So you love me
and never leave,
and spare my verses,
my letters.

Promise me you won’t be
like a sun or a moon to me,
I’ve told you my heart,
Don’t tear it apart.
But if you ever do that,
Do it like an art,
Be delicate,
Pierce me with a barbule,
The wound be like a mark,
A mark of my love,
And of your move so dark.