Love After Love

I’ve posted this poem before but I need to post it again to remind myself of how important it is in giving gratitude and appreciation to oneself after a series of emotional roller coasters. Thanks to my soul mate in a parallel universe, Tom Hiddleston, who has given me so much inspiration through his life in Twitter, and introduced this poem to me. This wordplay personified, is a hug and a pat on the back.


(Photo from a scene in the movie “Tree of Life”- astounding film which I highly recommend)

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here.  Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine.  Give bread.  Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit.  Feast on your life.

Derek Walcott 

Exactly what I’ll be doing for a long time. 😉


22 Things You Could Be Doing With Your Life Besides Getting Married

Chelsea Fagan always with her substantial and feel good articles. Thanks Chelsea!

Thought Catalog

Though I am all for the concept of marriage and support fully anyone who wants to engage in it themselves (in the sanctity of a church and/or plastered all over Facebook), it can sometimes feel — particularly as a woman — as though your accomplishments don’t amount to much if no one is in the process of putting a ring on it. Here, 22 awesome things you could very well be doing instead of walking down the aisle.

1. Getting an advanced degree in something that has been your passion for as long as you can remember (even if it is Princess Fairy Astronaut Mermaid).

2. Traveling the world and meeting amazing new people (and occasionally getting drunk/sleeping with them, but as it is international, it clearly doesn’t count).

3. Dating various people in your city and having lots of small flings because you want to really take your time…

View original post 452 more words

An Old Poem

This poem was written a very long time ago with much hesitation to put it out there. I showed a good friend the piece the other day and he boosted my confidence by telling me how honest and mature the poetry is; so here I am sharing it with the few beautiful souls who even know and care to always check on this blog. My introverted nature always prefers to be behind the scenes and to not be “too out there” even as I share this here, I abhor advertising it in other social medias, particularly Facebook. It’s like announcing to the world: Hey Look what I did! I know it’s great and works well for people who do this professionally (and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that) but sometimes I see it as a form of wanting attention (it’s just my opinion no offense) which I shy away from often. It’s just the way God molded  me haha; unless I’m really drunk and drugged which is not a good thing, then I’m so out there! Anyway, I was going to share my poetry from 2012 and stop talking about myself. I’ll save that for other entries.


Like the magnificence and purity of a lotus

Growing from the murkiest and most stagnant of waters

My soul has been replenished

Emerging from the hands of stubborn devils


A rock, endures cutting, friction, years of shaping

Drilling the hardest cores of its foundation

Before a shiny diamond is made from it

What beauty will there be without sacrifice?


Glorious are ones who suffer

Meaning is embraced and enfolded to their character

What a bore it is to live in this world

To have never experienced hell


How can one imagine of paradise if not for its counterpart?

– Carla Ezequiel

My poem reminds me of one picture I stumbled upon in Tumblr today which words are also a beauty:


Sound of Silence


Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

“Fools”, said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls”
And whispered in the sounds of silence

Intoxication and a myriad of emotions = drunken poetry

Inarticulate what these  emotions are pouring

A web of events designed or chaos soaring

A moment of mourning

mind in the atlas to feel better touring


caged in a destiny only i can try to unlock

hands with big bucks only to mock

useless the universe leaves us with unexpected shock

who know if a god is there to ceaslessly unlock


what we want our lives to unfold

if actions and words done will be sold

help me to align the karma before I grow old

ill try to paint the shit we call life gold


i hate to swallow the thought we cant have it all

bitter as a pill that will make me fall

crawl brawl prowl foul drown

i just hope in the end of of it all


transsgressions sufferered grasp a crown

not superficially but essentially

in the heart of a being frowned

to actualize the beauty laying there potentially


greatness waiting to open its potency