Heart Controller

Have I not seen a life form formless Void of emotions motionless? And if I become a soul examiner Dissecting a noun out of the heart, A colourful adjective to enhance A mind’s performance of a musical; A ritual within my inner core, So, have you seen a life form formless Void of emotions motionless? Wednesday, 26 th of August 2015

The tip of my pencil used to break And I would sharpen it, The ink of my pen used to dry out And I would replace it, The lined sheet of paper used to fill out And I would turn the page, The blank sheet of paper used to finish And I would grab some more, But not today, Not anymore, The pencil is sharp, The ink is not dry, The lined paper is empty, The blank paper is in the box, But never will I scribble – A letter, Or a word, Or even a sentence, Or a mind’s paragraph, Or a heart’s essay, The pencil is still sharp, The ink is still not dry, The lined paper is still empty, The blank paper is still in the box. Thursday, 20 th of August 2015

Inscribe on it the tears of society, To be sent on the edges of universe, Let this stamp be on postcards, Let it be on asylum seekers, Put on it few symbols of life, Water, trees, sun, or even birds, And as for the choice of colour, Let it shine the shades of humanity, And remove all those numbers and currencies, And leave but one word, In hope that every soul whispers it, As they stick this stamp on an envelope, Peace! Thursday, 20 th of August 2015

The mist gradually enveloped my soul, Natural cycles of life halted, Branches of trees snapped, Leaves on the ground hardened, My back becomes more crooked, To look ahead was to open wounds, To move backwards only eased them, But the drums of battle pierced my limbs, I had few breaths left, And no chance of survival, Then a being entered my curse, The dark mist on my soul lifted, The waters of life returned, Now, my branches towards the heavens elevated. Thursday, 13 th of August 2015

A familiar face and a familiar body, And another, a friend with another, A moment captured like his camera, Like at the park or this sunny arch, Another moment of beautiful breeze, Awaiting for the yearned reunion, My eyes sitting on a flight of stairs, And I blink while he produced a portfolio, The one with another for a gallery, And I blink with the rushing of the river, Background noises and pigeon visits, The dog of the homeless almost lost, The dance of the seagulls up above, Awaiting for the yearned reunion, And I blink at the lady with the violin, Solo on the cobblestones near the arch, Random kid running away from her father, Her contagious smile spreads all around, And my buddy arrives followed by the others, Many moments captured with a blink of an eye. Friday, 07 th of August 2015

O old chief of a willow tree, Feed your branched offspring, Angry weeps from my wells, Filled by forgotten headlines, I know few facts to share, Wounds hold us together, Dreams lift us together. Though wars only – Deepen our wounds, Shatter our dreams – My Form Crumbles O old chief of a willow tree. Saturday, 15 th of August 2015

Write me a poetic pen, One that ties in with a branch, Ink letters on my shoulders, Let it bloom into a rosy moment, Extinguish a candle for the smoke, And pin down the running pen, But not until all has been said, Not until the whispers dry out, Make a weapon there and then, For the tongue has be struck, Blue, green, black, and red, Thoughts shooting out like stars, Each to highlight a corner, Merging for a delightful portrait, About this little poetic pen. Friday, 07 th of August, 2015

Fly into me frisky birds, Tell a story about the sea, Alarm everyone about today, Spare me a wing or two, A flight of many moments, And fly into me ivy leaves, Fragrant my air with your colours, Write on my dense skin, Or through them light a dream, A treasure of many moments, And fly into me ancient branches, Send earth few whispers, Cover me a shade for my mind, Let rituals ascend into heavens, Or descend for many moments, And fly into me pouring rain, Get rid of the lungless smoke, Teach us a divine ceremony, And cleanse our youthful souls, A bless e d era of many moments, And fly into me shooting stars, Mesmerise my eyes with a painting, Or just light a night such as this, Fill it with many distant smiles, And elevate it into a single moment. Friday, 07 th of August 2015

Spiders creeping on my white fur? No, but a superficial tickly sensation, Her arms and her thighs I prefer, Something is racing, is that emotion? I walk slowly and then I start to run, I growl passionately for no reason, I have to say something, maybe a pun, Is this what they call a mating season? The lightbulb sparks over my head, And as a scientist I develop a hypothesis, Love is but a series of emotions on thread, And another male is definitely my nemesis. Thursday, 30 th of July 2015

Do the stars ever glitter for a shooting moment, Or do they do it out of their own beautiful nature? Let your ears twinkle as they listen to a storyteller, About a young passionate ready-to-be journalist, A heart whose beat beats in rhythmic elegance, Not for a selfish accidental snap of a finger, Rather an earthly hug to encompass us all, Sit around a campfire and listen to her whispers, Benevolence for a tent to keep you sheltered, Hike into the wildest forests to grow trees, And as the moon bestows its glorious light, We listen to poetic melodies behind bricks, And as we applaud loudly for another day, A shooting star creates this rainbow being. Friday, 31 st of July 2015

The eyes tickle and trickle a sight of beauty, Elegance in the shadow of her dark lashes, And his blink is only a fingertip’s distance, A muscular room, working out for a tickle, And trickle are their feelings crossing paths, A musical with romantic choreography, Her exquisite dress, vivid colours of royalty, His eyes dazzled at hers’ beyond compare. Thursday, 30 th of July 2015

Mira, tan brillante, la Estrella, Un corazón que late, amarilla Como un verano maravilloso, Me busca tu cuerpo hermoso, Revelando que te quiero. Miércoles, 29 de julio de 2015

To a being who is currently lost in translation, Try to breathe a lungful of a passionate emotion, Have a long walk into the waves of friendships, Accept them into many eases and hardships, Water your naked tongue for a fruitful season, Collect hugs and kisses for an obvious reason, Imitate a dance ritual for the yearned discovery, So that you can begin your absolute recovery. Maybe, just maybe, there is a need to be still, To avoid many created bonds reducing to nil, A week of immense rainy and stormy silence, Concentrating on ancient scrolls for a balance, Yet, symbolic stars will start to envelope you, Lost in translation with many codes to accrue, Deciphering your smiles and a beautiful stare, And to me you are truly a being beyond compare. Monday, 27 th of July 2015

Have you ever disagreed on a person? Imagine the lips dyed in vermilion, Sheltering a delicate soul elegantly, As if a cute dog that barks horridly At everyone, but once you approach With a hug, or even just a kind smile, Then she becomes a being meant To live in the angelic heavens above, Cold days turn into many dark nights, Except when calling out for her, Rescuing an ancient young heart, Bullies his witty philosophical mind, Only to let him crash on the floor laughing. Saturday, 25 th of July 2015

Curtains: wake up friends and foes For the eternal heavenly light Bestowed its vibrant sacred Face onto a full moon, Stars are giggling, Night is fading, Sky is singing, Wind is dancing, Sun is awaiting, Moon is touring, An infamous album, A portrait: a crescent In dimness, in brightness Its fullness: the eternal light Is just at a heartbeat’s length From the rebirth of earth’s stage, A cosmological orchestra on fingertips. Thursday, 23 rd of July 2015

Tap a string, The string of life, Connect with me, A nature’s aura, And accept others, To smile at life, At earth and sky, At the melodic harp, The whisper of strings, To reach our lips, For a gentle bite, A youthful harmony, From a golden harp, A sign of life, Of a heavenly friend, And a distant lover, Tap, tap, tap-a-tap, Tap a string, The string of life. Wednesday, 15 th of July 2015

To Wednesday, April twenty ninth, Seems like an immeasurable length, Freedom from time and mind, Hearts to soar high and find, One another, left and right, Life becoming extremely light, In the West of the land, In a lovely island so grand, To you I say: Thanks a million. Saturday, 25 th of April 2015

Why is it so hard to ignore the heart That trembles when I see her eyes? What form of language must I forget To create a speech void of emotions? Who should I meet to distract me From her smiles that melts mine? Where did my mind go leaving my Body in a fated passionate turmoil? When will I ever create a distance So long that the bonds fade away? How am I going to control a heart That was always hers’ to begin with? Am I going to remember this verse Even after years have gone by? Sunday, 22 nd of June 2015

Waves Tap into my beating heart To ripple a loving song Sent through many rings Of waves, in waves, Waves after waves, Infinitely devoting a reply To your delicate fingers That taps into my beating heart. Wind Swing your arms around the wind, And let it carry you far away, Swim beside the flying birds, Swerve your curves, Into an elegant stance, A dancing reply, To be carried by the very arms That swing around the wind. Thursday, 09 th of July 2015

Will the kings ever rise above a cumulonimbus cloud And speak some sense to the sky that covers their land? Or has the knowledge been removed from the crowd To teach us that once upon a time we were a grain of sand? Will the kings ever meet the commoners for a cup of tea And become an image of true nobility that does not decay? Or has nobility formed soldiers to mix blood with the sea To teach a supposedly sick society how to humbly betray? Will the kings ever show their true loving fatherly face And form a pact with us who hold them so dearly? Or have they started fearing our knowledge and race To never teach us our own magnificent history so clearly? Sunday, 05 th of July 2015

“ Elegance is a form of a walk, Should always be associated With, I would say, arrogance, Indeed, only few would be Part of the upper loyal class, And it all starts from a walk, It is a must in this sick society, To distinguish us from them, For I will never make a turn If they are leeching around, Never should filth be mixed With any aristocratic human. ” A piece of art written beside A grave that is very similar To the grave lying next to it, How ironic will it be if both Repelled each other’s scent, And chose to walk a path Of agony in a diseased era, Only to realise that death Not only did it not do them Part, but also kissed fate On its cheeks removing all Forms of human elegance. Tuesday, 23 rd of June 2015

She sits in a big diner, Red roses on the walls, She orders something, Ah yes, a cold milkshake, Crushed with strawberries, Crimson for a colour, From a unique plant, It is said that it got that Particular colour from A sacred blood of a Prince drenching the Soil of a blessed forest, And today’s special Will be hers’ alone! Tuesday, 23 rd of June 2015

The time slows as we rise through a nimbus cloud Into the heavens we sing an adorable ode aloud, And as you shine like a sun and as I your reflection, And as we show the world how to live in affection, We swim freely in a universal love we share together, We draw a smile. We hold hands. We dance forever, Then you show me a wonder of your greatest form, So magical that I hold you tight, our skins so warm, And with a slight twinkle from a not-so-distant star, I gaze into your eyes thinking how dear to me you are. Monday, 22 nd of June 2015

You see into my heart every evening, And I try to get closer, To show my feeling for you, To be transparent, To be the only thing that your eyes Looks at when you enter my room, Do you know how many times Have you touched me? I do for I feel closer now than ever, And now I have the courage to Write this letter for our hearts to merge, But I do hesitate, For a valid reason, Remember when I said that You see into my heart? I fear that you’re actually daydreaming, Not appreciating my existence, Instead, you gaze into the beautiful Moon and think of someone else, But I write this confession, A piece of my heart on paper For yours to know, accept, and return. With Love, Bedroom Window Thursday, 18 th of June 2015

Imagine the wilderness arrived Suddenly at your car boot sale, How big of a space will she rent? Will she pay in our green notes? Or sacrifice her green leaves? What would she bring to sell? Will she bring empty cans of, I don’t know, beer and soda? With many useless plastic bags? Will she bring animal corpses? Suffocated in polluted waters? In fumed air? In poisoned plants? Will she create potions for couples, Not only to love, but to care and Adore her own natural beauty? Will she bring postcards sent From neighbouring wildernesses To form an excruciating poem? Thursday, 18 th of June 2015

Take me to live on a surreal landscape Carved with beauty on an oil canvas, Take me to a colourful orchestral song Where the organs numbed in wonder, Take me to mammals and flying birds, Cold-blooded reptiles and amphibians, Take me to the space filled in vacuum, Glamorous stars twinkle in constellation, Take me to a place beyond the universe, Beyond the dark and beyond lightness, Take me now to somewhere very close, Closer than your arms, eyes, and heart, Take me on a very long unique journey, Or short, shorter than your lips to mine, Take me today, tomorrow, and forever, Whenever you decide to go, take me! Saturday, 13 th of June 2015

“You arrive to confiscate my heart, You tie it around the streetlights With a thick rope as if on a leash, My heart? Leashed? Why o’ why?” Prince and princess on her night, A dazzling wedding full of flowers. “Blooming lilies hanging by your Neck, while mine rope becomes Even tighter, unable to breathe, Unable to express any emotion.” Princess pulls the rope to drag The prince on the floor enslaved. “On my wedding night treated As a worthless flesh, and her Eyes watch in great pleasure, While mine are dried in fear.” Prince and princess on his night, Preparing the bed is completed. “I might be in a circus, a clown, Where she laughs hysterically, Claps chaotically while the rope Gets tighter for the last time.” Princess unties the rope and Spits fire on the dead rapist. Thursday, 11 th of June 2015

For the eyes to wonder in a book, And a chef teaches how to cook, Will we ever find a treasure piece? And forever live in a world of peace? For the eyes to explore another page About warlords and a wizard's rage, Such is the comparison of today's time, Rhythmic beats lost in an epic rhyme. For the eyes to listen in deafening silence, Rediscovering nature's magical essence, To let an apartment block in a major city Is to follow a materialistic life in self-pity. For the eyes to create a majestic drawing, And voices of birds merge into a painting, Juggling fateful footsteps as it sings, Spreading those royal angelic wings. For the eyes to tell amazing stories About a wise man in his mid-forties, Who lost his soul and a bit of his mind, And wrote this book about mankind. Tuesday, 16 th of June 2015

If I’m not allowed to edit a piece Then I would never be able to speak Logical symbols with infinite formation Dissociating within a line and then Picked up like a flower one by one To create a deleted memory And if not for editing and a bit of Pause my assembled thoughts would Devour the sanity of many minds And produce something like this. Saturday, 13 th of June 2015

What is your name? We call you River, But I know that my mother called me, So what did yours call you as a kid? What do you call this land you live on? Wait a minute! How old are you? You must be ancient, oh if that’s so, Then who have we inherited this Brilliant view? So fresh, so beautiful, Who came before them? You know The history more than anyone, yeah? Have you written it down? Do you Write anything? Do you have an Archive about everything? Do you Converse with the land? With the Swans or the fishes? Have you tried To reach to us? Send us a message? To one of us? If you have, what did You say? Have you hidden anything Within your surreal waters? Do you Have a secret? Because I know I have! Friday, 12 th of June 2015

Tell me of a reason where trees would voluntarily extend their arms towards the sky, Tell me of a reason where men needed to devour ancient canopies for a piece of land, Tell me of a reason where bricks needed to reach an air that nurtures birds and deer, Tell me of a reason where symbols needed to be carved selfishly for a poetic memory, Tell me for I have lost count on the amount of modern cities built on ancient ashes. Friday, 12 th of June 2015

You arrive to confiscate my heart, You tie it around the streetlights, You use a thick rope as if on leash, My heart? On leash? Confiscated? Who am I to you and you to me? A prince for the gorgeous princess, On her exotic floral wedding night. Your soul and the lilies hanging by Your neck – while mine the rope Gets even tighter, unable to breath, Unable to express any feelings, You pull the rope and I’m dragged. The princess watches in a VIP seat, Enjoying a scene in a theatrical show. You put me in a circus, and you Make me into a clown, laughing Hysterically, clapping chaotically, The rope gets tighter, and your Eyes keep watching the suffering. The princess enslaved the prince Into darkness to welcome death. Thursday, 11 th of June 2015

They're listening behind bars That they themselves created, And he is no different than the Likes of those disgusting men, Never will you see me smile Again on his face or theirs, So refrain from inviting him To our intellectual gatherings, He has shown neither heads Nor tails without that smirk, As if he knows everything About the world or even me, An arrogant creep that will Continue to belittle my gems, And as I rise above mountains To deliver a peaceful message, I observe many who hug me In a great emotional friendship, While the likes of him will be Void of any tiny notice, always. Wednesday, 10 th of June 2015

We live in a very strange world, The poor walks miles to eat food, The rich walks miles to burn food, The two cross on this wide road, One hitchhikes and one drives by, Both notice each other’s presence, Both start to wish for a transfer, Tiredness into effortless luxury, Complexity into old simplicity, They think for few more seconds, Kilometres keeps them apart, One takes an old rusty truck, One clicks his gadget for a call. Wednesday, 03 rd of June 2015

Disintegrate for I have judged a piece of Meat not even worthy of mentioning, Disintegrate for all bonds have been sliced Beyond repair revealing a sooty flesh, Disintegrate for maggots have been allowed To swarm a loathsome rotten mind, Disintegrate for the time of a peaceful Chat has switched to fumed smokes, Disintegrate for the harshness in my Voice have snapped into lethal pikes, Disintegrate for the desert has sworn To protect the footprints I produced, Disintegrate for earth has witnessed Days of mountainous lies and arrogance, Disintegrate today, tomorrow, and Forever for I can't stand your presence, Disintegrate for the twenty-five-year-old Bond has just been severely disintegrated. Wednesday, 03 rd of June 2015

Day twenty-four of this challenge, A job where I do not need to speak, Where I can form linguistic shapes Using only my smile and few limbs Oh! There is a client parking nearby, I can imagine his old dirty vehicle Miraculously turned into a luxurious Car with my own wand I call hands, Indeed, my limbs redefined nature, They showed the world a magical Aura which begins from these steps: Right hand sign waving for a wash, Teeth as bright as the white moon, The backbone up straight. Confident. I walk looking directly at the client, Wipes and brushes I carry along, The driver exits and looks at me Behind those glaring sunglasses, He doesn’t smile turning his back, Disappointment creeps into me, He turns and says: “you clean?” I nod eagerly for the few coins, This poetic work means everything, “How much?” and I only sign ten, “Okay, thirty minutes?” I nod, Off he goes and off I go, him to Shopping and I to washing dust, A substance th...

To grow out a stalk from a tree That, one day, will be a forest, Is extremely difficult for I lived A life void of He and full of She, And because of She, I have to Stitch some threads to form A line to keep in touch. Even If I was to be overseas or maybe Some few steps away from He. It is difficult, for He has chosen, For I have observed with eyes So innocent: the days become Nights and nights creating A tearful moon since the sun Has hidden the blessings it Once provided and so I write Words before speaking them Out loud in hope that it might Just help me stay together. Sunday, 31 st of May 2015

The conscious is always admired, but today the conscious is tired, Unable to form a linguistic command that would interrupt a blank page, Stares idly at something blurry that fades into a template, A structure, part of a frame, watched every second as the eyelids drown, The conscious still trying to imitate its previous self, though– A past becoming a foreigner and the headache of it all begins, Every sound is an attack to its personal privacy, A characteristic of a burnt-out incomprehensible conscious, And as you can see, reader, it produced a wounded poem. Wednesday, 27 th of May 2015

Once in a land not too far away, I searched for a tiny singing girl, She saw me then began to play, Voice of a bird, heart of a pearl, Dances, too, oh what a lovely day, As I leave, my soul starts to curl, Tears to shed, that is the only way, All of the memories, I should just hurl, And so I did, painful love I had to pay, Yet, something will always unfurl, Maybe, my eyes on hers’, it will lay, You might then remember that boy and girl, I saw her once again, but nothing to say, I became a well-known kingdom’s Earl, And I left everything behind but it may– My soul escapes my body to touch her pearl, She doesn’t remember me and so I pray, Her heart starts to sing, mine starts to whirl, Under the moon I want us to stay, For time has caused our fate to twirl. Wednesday, 27 th of May 2015

I saw how earth guided the river away from the human’s apocalyptic pollution, And how it tried to protect it from both sides tending to its pain until it reached the ocean, I heard the river speaking with the earth about its birth, childhood, and future, An intimate relationship based on the caring eyes each one received from the other, The sky now listened to their dreams about colourful trees where both can become one, And so, it formed clouds pouring rain so pure to dilute the poisoned river, Yet, the acidic air only foretold a story of reopening many scarred wounds, The sky, devastated by the sound of agony, spread its wings to blow fiercely winds, To hasten the arrival of a meeting where one’s wounds would become its freedom, I imagined them departing for they have walked quite the distance into a bright horizon, You can see, my dear reader, how nature has stared directly into humanity's eyes, Only to show the romantic passion it possesses, and yet, ou...

You showed me a page I have long forgotten, Scribbled at the top few letters of dedication, With drawings shaped as beautiful hearts, And I can hear your voice through the words, The song to be sung for the waves to carry, For the wind to spear my young beating soul, Through the lands and through the oceans, I await the moment, the clashing of the hearts, In the form of hugs, kisses, or just eyes to adore, For I do not mind hearts in any fashion . Monday, 25 th of May 2015

I soared over many cities, Neither hunting nor protecting, Just observing the humankind. My eyes touched many, To meet and to remember, Yet, only few pierced my mind. A filter created by the conscious, To mould creatures out of clay, Detailed sculptures designed. She overlooks my interest in her, I then ignore her presence for a while, Our eyes smiling, acting as if blind. Not a detective in profession, But sensing natural connections, So, I keep flying over her kind. A metalwork on her royal neck, Antique curves to resemble a bird, Golden ages when it was mined. Her foreign gaze now boring, I overlook the city and move on, Her figure fading, never to be shined. An abrupt ending, reader, I know, And so be it for I have sadly found: To move forward, many are left behind. The mind of humankind was designed to be blind, A kind to be mined for a show shined leaving all behind. Friday, 22 nd of May 2015