The Aged Man

As I humbly sealed this ice-cold glassy window,
I went back to my motionless armchair below,
Drinking the milk reading the paper's first page,
The radio was on whilst a bird sang in its cage.

Warmth began its expedition from the fireplace,
Glimpsed at that empty chair no being to replace,
The cat woke up as the logs crackled and popped,
She walked in front of me then abruptly stopped.

I held my rigid arms to hold her big fat tummy,
Decided to join me as I got her favourite dummy,
Paused for a second since here I embraced my wife,
Went along into a lovely world living a new life.

Wednesday, 07th of October 2009


False Banners

Persons intoxicated by delusional letters,
Inscribed into the smoke of burnt ashes,
Hallucinations of the so-wanted future,
Drawing vastly near exposing its flaws.

The house's base crumbles unconsciously,
Whilst mighty entities shift another gear,
Soaring over already-built firm mountains,
Guiding the delirious to colourful mirages.

Kind hearts buried under torrid volcanoes,
Drowning as they use worthwhile symbols,
Illuminating into the smoke of burnt ashes,
Creating antidotes curing drunken masters.

Tuesday, 01st of December 2009


Three Birds With One Stone

A kid

Crying since that monster took my toy,
I want it back to continue the sad play,
Soldiers dying losing their plastic legs,
But I cannot continue without my toy,
Blurry vision from tears, falling down.

Crying ever more calling sadly for 'help',
No one to reply then I walk to a corner,
Mr. Lonely is ever alone easily bullied,
None to care or grasp my hand and hug,
I silently shed tears in my little corner.

An adult

It has been over thirty odd years now,
And I have accomplished this and that,
With your side by mine my dear love,
Although I ceased expressing it to you,
For I became overwhelmed by sadness.

I became what you would call 'rusted',
Hence, I am ineligible to be with you,
I am in no need for worthless trophies,
Nor worn-out ink-stamped certificates,
For a sadistic figure did grasp my soul.

An elderly

Under a century and still breathing air,
Rather fascinating to see myself gripe,
Although when listening to those two,
I might perhaps seem a decade younger,
Yet, I am still the product of this world.

No soul to bear my near-expired corpse,
As I shuffle into my bed in the coldness,
Sadness is a routine part of my nights,
That should be entirely fine, little boys,
For now I am a wrinkled little old man.

Thursday, 26th of November 2009


"Suicide Me"

I was walking along the ocean,
Observing the happy people around,
As they pass I deceive them with my smile,
Since they are unaware of my past, present or future.

I took a glance at the shark-filled sea,
A person just threw herself off the edge of a cliff,
Not knowing what would become of her I followed her steps,
My existing soul is about to be set free from a world full of unkindness.

The sharks can have me,
They can reveal the true self of mine,
My blood will be dispersed creating my biography,
Displayed in infamous exhibitions of selfish living artists.

The soulless cops arrived to seal the suicidal edge,
She left this life as I stand alone on this cliff,
At last finding an extremely sharp blade,
My neck is huge; very hard to slice,
My wrist is smaller; easier to slit,
Now I can understand myself,
The blood pouring out talks,
I cannot feel my fingers,
I cannot hear a noise,
I cannot … see.

Saturday, 21st of November 2009


The Eyes Cry

Entering your darker than black cave,
Spotting six infinitely hollow barriers,
Enclosing to change into a sacred grave,
Slicing it exposing emotional carriers.

Arriving at your two fluid-filled wells,
Digging their roots sharing it with you,
Revealing awful stories each one tells,
Emptying them, but more from the two.

Pearly glitters sensitively warm drops,
Cooling the hot golden-sand beaches,
Reaching the deep valley and stops,
Wishing loss of memory as it preaches.

This cave is briefly gone but to return,
Haunting you once more for a year,
Pay no heed to it and from it learn,
Recall, the others to you are sincere.

Wednesday, 18th of November 2009


Corrupted Humanity

I was once a very young innocent caterpillar,
But quickly forced to evolve into a butterfly,
Kidnapped by an anonymous shifty shadow,
Smiling with open arms as if my awaited uncle,
"They are so busy"; family just leaving me?

I met a new very young soundless yellow bird,
Soon to become a soulless puzzled wanderer,
Left from home due to an old drunken mother,
Taken by the same arms, yet not his uncle,
"He is helping you"; father is rescuing me?

I met a cat and a dog, identical twins I presume,
Shortly went for adoption sold for few silver coins,
Divorced single mother was too late for abortion,
So-called uncle grasping this golden opportunity,
"She doesn't care"; mother just forgetting us?

We were once very young innocent children,
Before long exposed to the corrupted humanity,
It was not our mistake; it was not our decision,
Mother, father, uncle, family, none to bear us,
Using this final line to ask the reason for this.

Wednesday, 16th of September 2009


The Moon and its Light

A lonely eye stalking the blue-surfaced water,
Anonymous, yet, most of its traits are known,
The origin displays its glorious power onto it,
Arising in darkest hours exposing this emblem.

Utter silence heard upon its luminous white lid,
Disclosing the secretly survived moving entities,
Doubtful queries raised for such random claims,
Ghastly substances soar without troubling the eye.

Tolerant drifters misplaced in vast wavy prisms,
Gazing at the lid as it performs its sacred rituals,
Tranquillity emerged blessing tribal silhouettes,
Placing directions in the souls of mindful hearts.

Thursday, 22nd of October 2009


Gathering Data

He woke up from this drown,
Opened the grey wall to eat,
Wrote with watch and flesh,
But, the fire withdraws again,
And to me he decided to jump,
Once again drowned in the bed,
… I guess!

He woke up from this hazard,
With shoes off and sand to hear,
Rain to thunder as him to knot,
Ran on the fish drinking grass,
Smelt roads as he read the light,
No more, to his brain, he gave up,
… I guess!

Thursday, 15th of October 2009


Letters for a Poem

In my woodiness shape I wish to express,
Words from an eccentric language or two,
Merged together in a highly new fashion,
Entirely displayed, wondered by admirers,
Whilst critics shove me into 'lost property'.

Waiting for some time for you to return,
Remembering our previous rapid sessions,
The tickling of deep smooth coloured tips,
The poking of shallow rough black squares,
Now arriving before me with another relic.

Bias and morality should never be judged,
Rather, I am just an innocent piece of art,
Creative symbols reflecting endless value,
Producing a magnificent meaningful me,
Presented to audiences by a foreign entity.

Monday, 21st of September 2009


El Pasado Anónimo

Cuando paro delante de esta puerta enorme,
El pasado mantiene la caza de mí, pero no ahora,
No si entro en este lugar donde puedo cantar,
Cantar a mi pasado en el tono que lo prohíbe.

Cuando ando por este jardín infinito,
Oliendo las hojas del otoño que se caen,
Oyendo el viento bailando entre les,
Observé otro alma entrando mi dimensión.

Cuando corro hacia la niebla de la noche interminable,
Siguiente mi deseo de abrazar a su figura delgada,
Una ilusión reforzó por un abismo oscuro vacío,
Perdiendo mi futuro y la caza empieza otra vez.

Miércoles, 02 de septiembre de 2009


The Welcoming Person

It was then that I accepted its presence,
Seizing my right hand pulling it forward,
It felt cold at first with sparks of scariness,
Except, warmth began its novel exploration.

It kept emotionless, silent, hardly any motion,
Whilst walking towards a known destination,
I felt the urge in knowing the person I follow,
The urge to start a new friendship, a new era.

There I spoke to the form in front of me,
With a continuous, slow but steady pace,
The silence broke into several black ravens,
All landing gently on the shoulders of it.

It was then that I rejected its opposite,
Finishing the last lines of a history book,
Pleased as I flick its pages then I close,
Entering the place, breathe my last breath.


The Anonymous Past

As I stop in front of this enormous gate,
The past keeps hunting me, but not now,
Not if I enter this place where I can sing,
Sing to my past in the tone that it forbids.

As I walk through this infinite garden,
Smelling the falling autumn leaves,
Hearing the wind dancing between them,
I observed another soul entering my dimension.

As I run towards the endless night's mist,
Following my desire to hug her thin figure,
An illusion reinforced by a dark empty abyss,
Losing my future and the hunting starts again.


The Nine Year Old

Compassion for her as she struggles for life,
Trees stand aside awaiting her soul's whimper,
I, on the other hand, standby next to her bed,
Watching her lungs inflate each few slow seconds,
And feeling her rebellious heartbeat calling out,
Hoping after each blink I'd see her eyes open.

Chattering into her warm and sweet little right ear,
Yeah, sh-she must; she must be hearing my voice,
I bet she senses 'love' elements revolving around her,
As I spray that fresh cherry-scent perfume on her,
And guarding her through the past year's sleepless nights,
Hoping after each tear I'd hear her say: "mommy; daddy".


Stabilising the Soul

Is it an enormous tree or a humble man I see?
Purity draining into the dusty autumn leaves,
Or an exhausted elderly limping on his third leg?

It is source and extended cables both required for a life,
The two are none but a blurry vision I have foreseen,
Incessant distorted images infiltrating a lot of memories.

I accepted the existence of the truth and its spatial loci,
Others still consider me too naïve to seek such an element,
Thus, the dust, from this path to my face, kept its promise.


The Art of the Brain

I've seen England's flag when I was a young kid,
But the human brain is just significantly fabulous,
Opening the house's windows drilling through its vault,
Not gold or money that is stored; rather complex roads,
Highways, intersections, bridges, and extensive tunnels,
Its specialty is fancy express electric rollercoasters,
For their absence you and I are nothing but useless art.

10th of June 2009


This Ruby Flesh

This piece of dancing ruby flesh in my vast chest,
Is restrained in an empty 'rest in blackness' cage,
No light can penetrate those enormous white guards,
No dark can escape this inevitable gloomy prison,
Once cherished; now this treasure is to be concealed.

Emotions rush into its deepest caves… dreams shatter.

There, negativity heaves me into fragile crumbles,
There, optimism ignores my pathetic pity presence,
Persisting due to that arrogant chief executive officer,
White and crimson, the means of hierarchy and command,
This electric rollercoaster, from the flesh; isolation in process.

Emotions rush into its furthest bounds… dreams develop.

Lightness blossoms within the limits of endless dreams,
Growing exponentially dispersing every bit of shade,
And within it do children of life battle this ageing war,
Reviving nothing but a dancing piece of ruby flesh,
Idolised in a throne, in my vast 'rest in brightness' cage.

Written on the 23rd of June 2009
Modified until the 27th of June 2009



As the candle within me dims bit by bit,
Darkening my surroundings walking on uncertain paths,
Losing any sorts of assistance,
Leading me off track.

My heart searches for its horizon,
A horizon that is fading away,
This candle is but a way to enrich its heart,
A heart filled with doubts and quarrels.

The sky's curtains begin to unravel,
Moonlight invading every bit of shade,
Shining my face and this pathway I walk on,
Time to relight it; guided once again.

8th of February 2009


The Life of a Tulip

For my delicate petals to rise above this enormous pot,
Reddish as they are, dryness will almost set them free,
And for my body and neck to prolong the inevitable rot,
Greenish as I am, this hell, a darkroom, is not a guarantee.


Without a He

Born to this branch of an enormous tree,
Thin as it was; firm and stable as it would be,
Lookin' at me both sides,
Wonderin' at he who resides,
So long as he does not interfere,
So long as she and I adhere.

Blue as I was, pretty unpopular, although I was rare,
Famous as he was, crimson for a colour, so unfair,
Shoutin' across me stem,
Searchin' for the letter M,
So long as he does not come near,
So long as she becomes sincere.

She was very young; clever and lovely little girl,
He needs to be dead; for white is rarer than a pearl,
Starin' at me-self,
Cuttin' parts of he-self,
So long as I to him never appear,
So long as I to her become very dear.

In her life I will be without a he.


True Tears of Life

Born into it as the kid tears to death,
Getting rapidly older second by second,
Avoiding the eyes, the touch of the most,
At times I hug her to touch, I reckoned.

Born into it as a separated only child,
Competing for fast dives, a warm alight,
Unfortunate events, matters attract me,
Randomly placing a target for this fight.

Born into it as the death awaits a day,
Joining siblings with a touch and a hug,
The Sun rose from grounds of life,
Death upon me, thank you very much.


A Lethal Fog

So future, what have you been up to?
Who will I meet and what will I do?
What sort of precious life will I reside?
Will I be taken away from it due to pride?
Or survive my last years in a small hide?
Or enjoy surreal sceneries found worldwide?
How many times should I repeat them?
However, rarely do you not condemn!

But at least answer these vital questions:
Would I leave good or bad impressions?
Would I be able to save peoples' lives?
Inviting them to dinner, until it arrives.

I guess you were never created to answer,
Even to those who have a deadly cancer,
Enduring its burden for nine long years,
Or nine days filled with endless tears.

It sure does take a person by surprise,
It is death, a lethal fog living in disguise.


To The Letter S

As I shuffled onto my bed I felt her presence,
I closed my eyes calmly as if to pretence,
Cat-walking elegantly with her long naked feet,
Our bewildered eyes were meant to meet,
The intensified mood smoothed as she cried,
I moved aside allowing her to lie by my side,
Shifting closer to my face gazing in wonder,
Feeling her heart reviving after being torn asunder,
Stroking my cheeks whispering in my right ear,
"Missing your caressing since your disappear,
"Be easy on yourself as you seem really worn out,
"This is me returning the favour, so do not shout".
Strolling along with her tail, meowing; very showy,
Pure white fur as if from snow; she's my Snowy.



This body I am carrying is tired,
A disease has affected my mind,
It is this that changed my approach,
What would I utter but sick words?!
Producing such awful consequences.

This body I am carrying is tired.

I wished from before as I do now,
My expressions would not be altered,
Yet, if you have heard me the other day,
Is that a person talking or a crazy fellow?
Patience has its effects, patience that I lacked.

A disease has affected my mind.

Before such an incident happened,
Missing each other after a long year,
An utmost joy, soon to be concealed,
Behind the bars of loss and mistakes,
No feelings, if such a phrase exists.

It is this that changed my approach.

A conversation I had with a friend,
Wanting to do the same with another,
Shouldn't this be easier than before?
Or does my mouth have a different taste?
Misused taste producing dreadful smell!

What would I utter but sick words?!

Speaking of morals, principles and ideals,
Soon to be refuted by self-contradictions,
Or were they used for the sake of argument,
Or the mind has come back to its senses,
It was about a person, and a person I very dear.

Producing such awful consequences.


For My People

Replying as if one day is forever,
To me this is rather entertaining.
Speaking of which, do continue.
The speech I have interrupted,
Will be less likely to take place,
I'm afraid that is the sole truth,
Doing is better than thinking,
Agree with me just this time.
For the moment I do understand,
You of all the people? Hahaha!

Replying as if one day is forever,
To me this is rather entertaining.
I prefer to die here in this forum,
Than live on feeling this vain,
A constructive argument, you say?
Impressive, now of all the times?
Since when would you talk sense?
Is this for you or the beloved people?
Let's construct a public discussion,
Or have you lost guts on your way?


A Fancy Painting

I have lived for all of my life without a sister,
I could have survived and went on forever,
Without any trouble, nor a single disaster,
A fate is a fate; I couldn't change a single matter,
She doesn't like poems; neither is she a speller,
But smart and cute, enthusiastic and younger,
New feelings were pouring into me, cuz of her,
Feelings of having a new person, a new sister,
I kept my distance from her at about a meter,
Maybe cuz it's my first time to sense a sister,
Not screaming and fighting against each other,
Neither pretending to be invisible, but rather,
Being next to me sharing a smile together,

We will sit on a hill at night in the winter,
Cold as it is, but we would share the heater,
Heater of my and her body embedded together,
Feeling comfort and secure will turn it into summer,
Under the shining stars we lighten forever.



Picked You From the Garden

Our story started when I had that famous meeting,
Do you remember? The time I had no seating,
The sun was fading bit by bit beyond the surreal horizon,
Revealing its last existence, its last peak via the mizen,
As if disclosing true beauty that should be spotted,
Deserved by few, ignored by most, constantly plotted,
You were exclusive, surrounded by the dullest colours,
To the extent that nothing can buy you, not even dollars.
… Glance.

I was dragged by the mob towards the mid of stage,
Exposed to the hundreds reading the correct page,
But doubt not, your being never faded my conscious,
Regular glimpses whilst talking, hence nor my subconscious,
Invaded by your utmost benevolence and attractiveness,
Moonlight reinforced by the dew increased your tenderness,
After ending my speech I strolled out towards the garden,
Found you, touched you, held you, released you, "pardon…"
… Disappear.

Picked you from the garden at around half-past-nine,
Without any resistance or moaning you became mine,
Finally we are home, you and me, completely alone,
Instantly you started to harden, as if becoming a stone,
It wasn't even an hour and you're leaving me in sob,
Approached you, touched you, fractured you; am I a slob?
Were you a ticking bomb exploding when it was just fine?
Or a bullet fired making holes in me, my heart and spine?
Sticking you together for a near funeral, my dear flower,
Slowly, I buried you in my diary without a header or a footer.
… Evermore.



The Minds of Two

I'm stranded on an island,
That's far far away,
There's no drop of water,
Nor a cup of milk,
How can I survive,
This hardship I'm going through,
How can I revive,
The wilderness of my soul,
It's already over,
The moment I entered,
It's already too late,
Once I have deceased,
Wishing to die once more!!

I'm stranded on an island,
That's so close to me,
There's a grain of sand,
And a frequent storm,
How can I perish,
From a world full of freshness,
How can I destroy,
Such a beautiful place,
It's certainly not over,
As long as I breathe,
It's never too late,
To overcome my desires,
Wishing to be revived again!!

12th December 2008


Déjà Vu of Long Years

Captured by two men in this train,
Following their orders without complain,
Manchester's where I'll take my leave,
It's the next stop and a letter I'll receive,
The train halts and the noises augment,
Exiting the vehicle with an extraordinary scent,
I've been here and here did I see her glowing face,
Here I saw her giggle and here I boosted my pace,
Pushing people aside and waiting at that spot,
There she kissed me and a kiss I never forgot,
Shaking her head waving her long hair left and right,
Strolling away whilst I try to keep her within my sight,
A beige and brown top and an autumnally green skirt,
Stunningly blended with her body; persons starting to flirt,
Fading away, turning her head, looking back; our eyes have met,
Last glances from far away glowing cheeks and I bet they're wet.

A Déjà vu or the woman I see before my eyes?
Wearing a scarf and a heavy coat as if to disguise,
No, not her, but behind her the lady with long hair,
Looking at me with similar smile and the exact wear,
Running towards her pushing the busy crowd away,
But the two men grasped me as if I was the prey,
Struggling; but fruitless efforts and the growing tears,
Have made me lose her for seventy-two long years.


A Friendly Superpower

He sensed me. Happy I was. But,
He went away to another friend,
My brain cells started to shut,
Friendship came, at last, to an end.

Next day, he sensed my aggression,
Alert he was, but no question,
Neither suggestion,
Hence, I saw his depression.

He talked to me,
As if asking for forgiveness,
Trying to calm me,
For me he was pointless.

He begged even more,
For he was shocked and scared,
I squashed his head to the floor,
Even though he wasn’t prepared.

I am not mad,
Because I and scientists are alike,
I am not bad,
Because I’m similar to the Third Reich.

He ran along the pavement,
I imprisoned him in a tower,
For he was my enslavement,
Now I become a superpower.


This is one of my first decent poems, and it describes a story about a disturbed character. This theme was introduced to me during my 9th or 10th grade in school as we were analysing and evaluating poems related to disturbed characters.


Terminal Life

It is God's Will to take my soul on this day,
I am ready to leave this ward, so try not to delay,
Surviving for extra years worsens my distress,
I just want my family beside me for me to express,
My gratitude for their care and for me to bless,
Memory deceived me, then you were here to assess.

It is God's Will to take my soul on this day,
Leave me alone, it is over, so stop and go away,
My brain is well; my heart is ill going downhill,
Calling for the nurse and asking to remove this pill.

Again it happened and this time:
Widening my eyes; still in bed by a breath,
Enough doctor, stop prolonging my death.

6th of November 2008


A Woman and a Palestinian

Looking at them through my little window,
Seeing nothing but a dead body and a widow,
I cannot cease trembling as my heart starts to decay,
My dear son is murdered and my husband is away
In my own home and still experiencing the terror,
Slaughtering innocent persons; not a mistake nor an error,
Five days passed and countries celebrate New Year,
Ignorant humans are not crying, not even a tear,
Haven't they heard of me, an innocent mother?
Or did they turn their back on me and not bother?
Everyone is requesting a ceasefire of this brutality,
But words are not actions reflecting nothing of the reality,
Occupied Palestine are destroying our pride,
Isn't there anyone to help us and stand on our side?
They plan to massacre us whilst the rest of them hide,
And who the hell are they for them to decide?!

This poem is dedicated to the innocent Palestinian families murdered by the Occupied Palestine.