Come | A Poem

Come
join me,
there’s nothing a warm cup
of tea cannot heal.

Come,
let us play
the broken piano
with a few misplaced keys,
it’s music
still beautiful.

Come,
come away with me,
as I take you
through time,
the time machine
conjured in words.

Come,
do not hide.

Come,
maybe for the first
and the last time.

Come.

Battles Inside, Battles Outside | Poetry

There’s a battle, an unknown
untold one. One that is
filled without the vision of
what meets the eye.
One that is considered unlikely
for the knight to fight.
One that dishonors souls,
because the knight should
have won.
And this is a tiny battle,
they tell her.

But battles are
all the same,
battles inside, battles outside,
they make you bleed
time and again,
some clear, some in color.

And sometimes one is
won when another is gone,
one is lost and still victorious.

Some ask to stay put,
because the time to wield
the sword is gone.
Remains there
just the shield,
with is pride,
false or real, hard to tell.

Battles everywhere.
Where shall we hide?
Or shall we fight?

Visiting the Ducks | Poetry

A body of water
and a family of ducks,
it is home to them
what for us
is momentary exile.

A body of water
and a family of ducks,
I wait for them to swim
as they first fill themselves up;
two are caged,
three roam free.

A body of water
and a family of ducks.


I wasn’t very keen on visiting the ducks. I pass them quite often, but as they say in popular culture, there was a gust of wind and I was drawn. What was waiting did not confine to a body of water and a family of ducks, a poem was hiding near by. Visiting the ducks. 

In the photo above, you can see three ducks having perhaps their evening meal which mostly seemed like bread.