Tuesday, January 10, 2017


when they smell like newborn skin, 
and you lie breathing them in, 
praying the moment goes on indefinitely, 
and all you feel is gratitude, 
when you can taste touch,  
love passes and stretches,
from tongue to lips to brain, 
love travels from finger tips to bone,
washing your soul skin in rose water,
nourishing the body like first milk.

we lay uncomfortably for love’s pleasure,
pressing our bodies on each other’s limbs,
cutting blood circulation for sweet embraces, 
I reach in my heart and squeeze the anxiety,  
with you I wish to be present and tender,
sometimes I lie my head beside you and watch, 
your breath, the sweat collecting on your chest,
sneaking random kisses through the night,
your heart, a beautifully orchestrated show of lights,
in your eyes, in your arms, in your life, anew paradise



Friday, October 21, 2016

Fight for Love

I hate fighting with you. 
But everybody fights. 
You need to learn how to fight. 
I'm not the enemy. 
I'm just annoying. 
You're very annoying too. 
You know, these fights are a waste. 
A waste of time and emotion. 
When I'm doing something annoying you have to love me in-spite of how you feel at that moment.
You have to think about me; put me first and say to yourself "this isn't worth being mad about, who cares what anyone thinks, let's just be together and have a good time, fuck everything else."


Saturday, October 1, 2016


Sometimes we fight
I start fighting about the past 
He'll feel blamed and withdraw
And we don't get anywhere 
We fight a lot, like every week
I'm mad at him about something 
I used to go days without talking
But now it's hard to go a whole day
We're in a fight right now, of course
I reached out a few hours after
He hasn't responded to my calls 
Im not apologizing and reaching out
Because I think I'm wrong 
I'm reaching out because I love him 
I'm reaching out because I love him



We run a little wild 
You know skinny dipping 
Inside rainbows of pleasure 
A colorful mix of stubbornness 
How do we survive our own egos 
We do not, the ego kills creativity 
There are a million solutions 
Remember what you do best 
Always go back to what you love 
If I died tonight would I be content?
I'd be sad I wouldn't get to live 
I want to learn more about me 
So I keep threading the storms 
I'm owning up to my mistakes 
I'm not perfect but I'm kind 
I'm mean but I'm compassionate 
I love you and it's hard to hurt you 

Wednesday, August 17, 2016


Our minds travel from heaven to hell everyday.
Somehow within this arduous journey we find time to hold another hand.
Everything that can go wrong goes wrong.
At the end of each journey we find ourselves standing outside each other's body. 
We wonder why but no logical reason justifies the fate that brings us here. 
So we label it, we call it something beautiful. 
To justify the addiction, to excuse the weakness, to explain the softness, to describe the euphoria.
On days when our manifestation doesn't reflect beauty we proceed to hurt and destroy it. 
Spending more time in hell than we have to, wasting energy we could be spending in heaven. 
For there to be beauty there must be ugliness.
For me to be perfect something else must be imperfect. 
In order to live in your heaven I must walk through your hell.


Saturday, August 6, 2016


The ones who don't know my name say it's in my face, 
I always laugh and tell them no way,
But then I remember and give it away,
Full of reasons for why I can't stay,
I specialize in picking up strays, 
To see them well and see them off,
They come wounded and hurt my soul, 
But who am I to choose a better half, 
I come from a burnt palace where I played with ashes, 
Who am I to demand happiness,
I raised myself in a sea of longing swimming deeply with abandon,
Who am I to be treated fair,
They say I'm too far gone drowning in a pool of my own emotions where goodbye is always around the corner. 


Monday, June 27, 2016


Sempre morrendo... 

de vontade de te tocar e não poder te ver, de querer te ouvir e não encontrar sua voz, de desejar seu corpo esparramado sobre mim e não te ter por perto.... 

morrendo de raiva por ter ciúmes, de solidão por te ignorar, de ingratidão por esquecer como me faz bem, de ignorância por não querer pedir perdão...

morrendo de paz ao segurar sua mão, de beleza quando seus cabelos dourados acariciam meu rosto, de encanto quando seus olhos azul turquesa brilham em me ver, de riqueza por te chamar de meu...

morrendo de tantos desejos ainda não realizados, de momentos perfeitos dentro de corações quebrados, de loucura por não saber ser melhor...sempre morrendo para poder viver ao seu lado. 

Amanda Miranda 

Friday, February 12, 2016

Lily Soul

His heart held up in his ribs by two white wings, 
Angels singing inside his chest, 
In each heartbeat a dose of the sweetest aphrodisiac mixed with a sweet cup of chamomile, 

Long silken strands of golden hair cover his fair cheeks, his perspiring skin glimmers as moonstone, my fingers reach to touch but my arm pulls back my hand to stop me from waking him,

His pores let out an imbuing fragrance, releasing the sweetest dew, impregnating my sheets with the scent of white lilies in the spring, 

Peace permeates my soul, I lay awake next to the boy looking up at the heavens, I peek at the stars outside my window, I ask for more time in this dream world, grateful for another day amongst the living. 


Sunday, February 7, 2016


Love....honestly, after claiming it, screaming it, dying to share it, wishing it gone, it's discomforting to claim to have it once more.

But I can claim warmth, stillness, presence, softness, peacefulness, respect, beauty, integrity, strength.

I can scream about the pleasure I feel when your hand grazes my skin, or when I open my eyes and you're looking right into my temple, I can claim the magic you stirred. 

I can tell you about dying in a bed of skin, of sharing more than flesh and wanting to remain connected when our bodies feel glued together. 

Sharing a glance, a smile, a kiss, sharing a bed, a pet, a meal, walking alongside you not knowing where we're going but knowing we're headed there together, 
sharing laughs, so many laughs, and always talking about the things we can do together. 

I claim each kiss you wish to share with me, every call you make when you're working just to hear me breathing on the line, I claim the high adventures I see you on with me.

And every second you long to be close, I claim those, and each feeling I inspire in your heart, I claim them, the tenderness shared in your embraces, that's mine too, every sincere gesture you've made, each kiss you gave, mine. 


Tuesday, January 5, 2016

A little death

Stars shoot out of his cyan eyes illuminating my life,
In every smile there's a cathartic purity of spirit,
And he tells me to leave the concrete roads,
Says there's a place in the woods awaiting us,
I hold his hand and walk beyond my leg's comfort,

I'm tired but I don't stop, I'm thirsty but I don't drink,
We walk and make jokes to numb our burning shins,
His sneakers are too tight and his toes are aching,
But he tells me he'll walk with me till the sun rises, 
We stay the course stopping only for kisses and pictures,

I take his hand and guide him towards the boat houses,
I sit down on the dock in the midst of a flock of geese,
He says he's not sitting on bird poo, I giggle endearingly,
He takes my hand, pulls me up, takes me up the ramp,
We stand for a moment and then he forces me down,

He pushes my body onto the slope and lays between me,
My body opens like a blooming flower in the spring, 
He places his hands on my cheeks and kisses my lips, 
My thoughts take me back to when I was seventeen,
A frightened and eager virgin longing for ecstasy, 

His lips touch the most sensitive parts of my skin,
And there outside on the dock my dream comes to life,
I tilt my head back and look up at the stars in the sky, 
I thank whichever deity granted me such passion, 
My eyes scan the trees and paths and grass behind us, 

I pull my head up and look across the river, not a soul, 
Only light surrounding us lifting my hips off the floor,
Only water before us, trees behind us and stars above us, 
In those wild moments I felt our bodies synching into one, 
Our hips coming together, our hands wildly pulling the other,

Skin to skin, hip to hip, neck to neck, lip to lip, I died, 
Surrendering my body, I died a million little deaths,
He grabbed my chest, turned my neck and gave me breath, 
He laid me on my belly and softy kissed the back of my thighs, 
He pulled me back by my legs and I died, I died, until he stood up and pulled me down from the sky.


Thursday, December 24, 2015


For a long time, for many years I prayed for emotional freedom, for being emotionally free to me meant being rid of attachment to certain beliefs and desires. 
I felt tied down to a person no matter where I traveled to or who I grew to love, I felt like a prisoner and every life decision I made was based on whether it would bring me closer or further away from this person.

I blindly, desperately, sadly believed they would wake up one day and see me, see me for everything I thought I was, see me as this person they simply had to be with. And so I waited and waited through many seasons. 

I sabotaged my life, I did everything I could possibly think of to bring me close to this person. If I won a million dollars I would have given it to them, for I placed their happiness and well being above mine. I justified my actions by telling myself that I was doing it for love, doing it for the purpose of giving and sharing or to completely rid myself of feeling, for some days I wanted these feelings out of my heart as much as I wanted this person to be in my life at other times. 

I tried running away from these emotions many times, I tried fulfilling my need to share this relentless love and live these taunting fantasies, I tried realizing these desires with other beings, and the more I tried the more I bled. I forcefully tried to move on by falling in love again, and in the process I hurt and confused souls who at the time wanted to be with me though I was not ready. 

One day, about five years ago, I decided to stop, stop trying, stop resisting. I kept on waiting, I didn't stop loving, I remained in contact, and though I avoided relationships I never stopped asking for a chance to be loved and to love someone who could and would want to be with me. 

I don't know when it happened but it happened, my heart was washed clean of these obsessive feelings, the beliefs melted away, the attachments broke apart, the taunting memories became simply memories without depressing feelings attached to them. 

The wound where I had grown and cultivated that helpless and scared love closed. I don't know when it happened but I give credit to certain souls and situations for helping me heal. There were many catalysts in my story, I'm just not entirely sure which roles each one played in the cleansing of my heart.

Today my heart is light, when I think of that soul their picture appears in my mind, I see them as an almost transparent hologram and there's no feeling attached to them, only a thought of who they once meant to me. Sad heart breaking songs don't move me anymore, in fact they bore me because it's like a broken record to me, I've lived through it and made it out clean. 

I'm not jaded or bored, in fact I'm very interested in loving, there just isn't any sadness or insecurity attached to the love I desire, there's no preconceived idea of how or who I should love, there's only the desire to share myself and maybe a little fear that it will be short lived for it often is. 

Through this journey I learned that one of the worse ways you can betray someone is to lay with them while you're desiring another, that to try to replace a soul or fill your heart to the brim with another in the hopes that it will push out your feelings for another is utter stupidity. 

I learned that there was nothing to push out, there was no ghost haunting me, no soul trapping me, there was only me against myself, my character, my morals, my wounds, my fears, my insecurity, my obsession, my anxiety, my allowance, my acceptance, my love, my dreams, my heart and the way I chose to treat it. 

I can treat my heart like a computer that's programmed to follow a command and let it run in the same direction without maintenance until it crashes or I can treat it like its human flesh, I can respect it as a living being, I can see my heart as myself, I can give it free will and guidance and use it to enrich and empower, to feel and inspire, to heal myself and others.

I'm writing this for the people who think they'll never move on for I didn't think I would either, but I did. I don't know how I did it, I never foresaw myself here in this state in this time, but I made it and everyone else can too. I wish I could tell you how I did it, I wish I could list the steps, but I did so much and took so many paths that I'm not yet sure what worked. What I can say is that after I stopped resisting I felt at peace more often. But honestly my only advice is follow your heart, your heart knows the way to healing. It's you against you and no one else can save you from yourself. 


Monday, December 21, 2015


Vou superando a vontade de voçê
Supero te ver feliz por outros lados 
Com meu coração cheio de vontade 
Um corpo para mãos apaixonadas 
Eu me sento e te espero mais um pouco
Sensasão que esta sonhando comigo 
Confeitando meu corpo com desejos 
Eu tirei um dia e fui andar pela sua rua 
Eu vi pernas correndo a sua volta 
Cada riso que dava meu coração parava 
La do lado de fora em frente a sua casa 
Elas chamavão seu nome em voz alta 
Sua mão entrando dentro das calças
Apertando a cintura da mocinha gozava 
Não guardo nada nem dor nem magoa 
Levo um menino lindo sorrindo ao meu lado


Tuesday, December 15, 2015


I look inside my heart and there you are
You sit charmingly on my best memories 
I carry you in my happiest expression 
I feel your wet skin between my fingers
I find you inside every pleasure taken 
Alone in the dark I feed you to my dreams 
When death comes your poems will shine 
And I hope someone tells them that you
You're the one who stopped the longing  
Everything we made is caged in my heart 
I taste pieces of you in every strange kiss 
But there's no shadow pursuing my body 
Gone is the ghost that haunted my heart 
Legs grew longer since hugging your body 
Eyes are wider and vision reaches farther 
I love and accept the reality that created us 
I was a fantasy you checked off your list 
And you gave me the passion I came here to live. 


Wednesday, November 11, 2015


I felt his entire being inside me, conquering untouched spaces, filling empty places, pushing out idle visitors, carving out rotten memories, vanishing old ghosts and creating new marks and dents and ripples. 

In a primitive physical way, in a anti emotional way, in a non-intentional spiritual way, he dressed my infected wounds, poured his life force into me, creating the necessary antibodies I needed to kill the diseases eating me. 

He emptied and replenished, erased and renewed, dirtied and cleansed, he reset me, setting a new standard, giving me a new beginning with greater heights to climb to. 


Friday, October 2, 2015


The arms on his clock turn fast, but time stopped when our bodies met. 
He likes to dance in warm light, so we waltzed and kissed till my legs got tired.

Sweat poured from his head, I caressed his wet hair, his abs were drenched, washing my belly with his scent. 

His energy within, his life force all over me, the intensity of a wild horse galloping inside me. No thoughts, no definition; pure physical vitality. 

I am earth, orbiting in space and rooted to its core, welcoming, nourishing, fruitful, in need of hydration, desiring reparation. I adapt, I destroy, I evolve. 

He is water, cleansing, enriching; he is rivers finding his way artistically; he is oceans, imaginative, flowing freely; he is wild waves crashing bodies; he is clear blue lakes, transparent and fluid.  

My skin remembers, his fingers, his tongue, the moments of perfect awareness, the moaning, the biting, the feverish pleasure of touching and being touched.

I turn on the cold water in the shower and imagine my body submerged in blue lakes, I touch my bare skin and remember wild rivers running between me. 

I want to bathe under tall waterfalls, to feel cool pulsating water beating down on my skin. I dream of swimming in oceans and letting waves crash my body. 

The arms on his clock turn fast, he's further away in the future. 
I dream he's dancing and flowing freely, cleansing and enriching, intertwined between long earthy stems, pleased and pleasing. 



I get out of the elevator and put my heart in my purse,
I quietly knock then turn the door knob, 
The door is left strategically open for me,
I carry my anxious body inside, 
He excitedly meets me at his bedroom door,
There's sunshine in his eyes,
He arches his yellow eyebrows and shares a happy smile,
I can see most of his skin except for the parts covered by his briefs,
I sit on the couch and he lays back on his bed, 
And we proceeded to catch up,
I answer his thoughtful questions with my encased heart and carefully scan his strawberry lips, 
Light reflects off his golden chest,
There's a warm glow around his face,
I admire his graceful demeanor and fitting beauty,
My eyes become highlighters contouring his features,
He says come over here,
We argue over who should come over to whom and I let him win,
And the rest is not as good as the first time I rode up his elevator and pushed the already open door open,
The rest was slower and faster and personal, as we laid in our nakedness and talked about our lives and serial habits and childhood insecurities, 
The rest removed our masks and mysteriousness,
The rest was an exchange of truth as we became known to the other,
And after I got dressed and placed my heart back in my chest he put his sunglasses on, he hid the sunshine and cordially said to me "It was nice seeing you again". 


Saturday, September 12, 2015


And he kissed me with his pretty face and lips and tongue, and he touched me with his pretty hands and fingers and finger tips, and he pressed his long torso against mine and began to cleanse. 

My skin remembers his slippery tongue, the unpredictable nibbles on my lips, his traveling fingers, the moments of perfect awareness, the loud moaning sounds, the feverish pleasure of touching and being touched.

His burning skin, his ardent energy, his exuding pores, his sticky sweat, his dripping wet hair soaking my face, caressing and wetting my skin, his glistening abs rubbing against my belly and washing me with his scent. 

I felt his entire being inside me, conquering untouched spaces, filling empty places, pushing out idle visitors, filling me, emptying me, washing out old ghosts and creating new marks and dents and ripples.

And I learned that he was water, leading the way, traveling fluidly; rivers paving paths; ocean waves crashing bodies; clear blue lakes, transparent and deep.

His vibrant grasp, his energy flowing into me, the intensity of an Arabian horse galloping inside me, his life force all over me. 

I turn on the cold water in the shower, lean my back against the tiled wall, and with my arms suspended above my head I envision tall waterfalls pouring over my breasts. 

I picture his yellow head between my legs, his wet hair brushing against my thighs, his eager tongue racing up my belly, his hands firmly squeezing my cheeks, his mouth around my nipple, suckling, arousing, exciting both our sexes. 

I turn my face against the shower wall and feel his hard body pushing against my back, his fingers between my legs, his hips grinding against me, his hand running over my mouth, his teeth biting down on my skin.

I envision wild rivers running between me, soaking my senses, cleansing my spirit, I imagine myself swimming in oceans and letting wild waves crash my body. 

I dream of him waltzing away, exploring the infinite spectrum of motion, cleansing and enriching, intertwined between long earthy stems, pleased and pleasing. 


Friday, August 21, 2015


Somos um perigoso clichê, 
Mais é real o que compartilhei, 
Paro no tempo, me seguro, 
Para sentir a luz do seu sorriso, 
Para ouvir sua voz de menino, 
Você me beija e eu esqueço, 
Sua pura e insegura mocidade, 

Nossos leves encontros casuais, 
Nossos velhos hábitos ilegais, 
Seus beijos espontâneos, 
No meio de um filme engraçado,
Numa pista de dança abraçados,
Dentro do meu carro suados,
Sua mão sempre na minha, 

Você querendo beijar, 
Nossa pele coladinha,
Seu carinho faz meu corpo te chamar, 
Quando a saudade bater, 
Novamente, não vou abrir, 
Te espero aqui, dono da saudade, 
Vem a mim, traga a chave, 

Te espero mais sem resistir o encontro, 
Você é todos eles juntos, 
Seus olhos, meu céu, nuvens flutuando, 
Dois oceanos me olhando, azul moleque, 
Seu corpo um arco-íris me chamando para brincar, 
Não importa o que sou, aonde vou, 
Sou sua quando a hora chegar. 


Sunday, August 9, 2015


Poetry is lust for life, 
expression of life, 
of joy, of love, 
poetry is confirmation of existence, 
of beauty, of consciousness, 

poetry is soul speaking, 
an awakened consciousness, 
poetry is vivid observation, 
a heart on fire, a spirit in flames, 

poetry isn't judgment, it isn't criticism, poetry is depiction, 
image, scenery, description, 
it is vision, pure feeling, 
poetry is listening, watching, 
playing, in emotion, 
in beauty, 

poetry is declaration, affirmation, poetry is claiming life, love, being, 
poetry is exploring, navigating, flourishing, growing, cultivating, living, 

poetry is soul potential, 
it's inspiration from muses and angels, 
poetry is consciousness guiding you, 

it's divine thought transference, 
poetry isn't a rhyming verse, a stanza, a dramatic story, poetry is raw, it is passionate, potent, 
poetry is experience echoing back at you,

Poetry is You.


Sunday, August 2, 2015

Express Yourself

Our physical, emotional and spiritual expressions are inspiring and necessary evolutionary tools. 
My talent comes with a side of torment, for it can be difficult to understand or balance so many visual feelings. 

To have such an intense memory of events while some do not can be alienating, to remember details others might never see because they weren't "there" in that moment with you can be confusing. 

We wonder if we're mad for vividly remembering, for feeling memories, for desiring to express touching details, we question our sanity for fantasizing and dreaming and investing so much into visions. 

We wonder because for us these visions, these intense details inspire creation, these visions inspire our thoughts, emotions and decision to share with others. 

Many times the muse does not know, see or remember us, sometimes even if they are part of our reality or moments which inspired us they might not remember us, themselves or the experience in the fashion which we have painted them or the experience.

This can be called a "sleeping muse", when the reality of the events are only real to the creator, when the other being in subject does not relate to the experience as it is depicted by the artist. 

Nonetheless we should still express ourselves, we should still create no matter what our mind is telling us. For example, when our thoughts are saying, "don't be foolish, it's all in your head", "don't express that for it's only real in your mind". 

Well, those thoughts could be true and there's nothing wrong with them being true. For these events are taking place in our heads, our mind, and even if these thoughts are delusions they are our thoughts and it is our life that is affected when we hold things in or are too afraid to explore what's going on inside ourselves. 

If we are here to grow and evolve then we should attempt to understand what is going on in our mind, this can help us comprehend why we like or dislike whatever it is that we like or dislike. Knowledge of self can help us distinguish underlying causes of negative behavior patterns.

And perhaps this knowledge can even help us experience brilliant moments which we never might have because we had some sort of unresolved trauma blocking our vision of potential enlightening experiences. 

Seeing what you're thinking and feeling through artistic expressions such as words, music, pictures, etc., may help your evolvement. It doesn't matter if what you feel is only true or attempting to be real in your reality. 

Imagination is phenomenal, it expands our reality. It can also stretch us out, spread us thin in ways that can be difficult to cope with. Some fantasies are so pleasing that it can be hard to let go of, and some people will dive into them completely and live in fantasies. 

This has its ups and downs, but who is to say what is right or wrong. If someone wants to believe they are a cat and live as such who am I to say "hey, you're wasting your life by not living as a man as well", for what is it to live as man anyway. 

But I have come to understand that for me to remain in and invest thoughts and feelings in certain fantasies can be emotionally exasperating. It's nice to want physical things and work towards them or to love and adore someone, but to consume yourself with achieving certain materials or to breathe someone in and out all day long is consuming to other parts of ourselves that also need expression. 

Some do encourage us to dream and imagine all possibilities, to explore every feeling, to know ourselves completely and exceed limits placed on our minds by our own self. But to entertain, expand and share thoughts soaked with intense feelings is an emotionally straining task and requires balance. 

We all have a talent for expression which can be cultivated in many different ways. Each individual can create their own way to express their dreams, fantasies and realities. 

Our limitlessness is evident in the way each of us create our lives, our style, appearance, personality, voice, attitude, detailed characteristics, defining thoughts, complex emotions, particular accents, etc. The way each of us see, feel and experience life is different, this unique phenomenon, the creation of being is each individual's own creation. 

My talent is my vision and my vision is a reflection of my being, and so is yours. Express yourself. 


Tuesday, July 21, 2015


His burning skin sizzling as though it were the coat of a stallion running wild in the desert sun,

His exuding pores releasing mouths full of cooling dew immersing my flaming skin in his scent, 

His dripping wet hair rubbing against my flushed cheeks, his sticky sweat arousing me,

His glistening abs grinding against my soft belly, sparking light, spinning bolts of fire,

His life force within me, the intensity of an Arabian horse galloping inside me,

Riding through untouched places, expelling idle visitors, creating new marks and dents and ripples,

And I learned that he was water, transparent and fluid; rivers carving paths; streams meeting seas; ocean waves crashing bodies.


My skin remembers his probing fingers, his fiery tongue tasting my petal's sweetness, 

The ardent fever induced by my passionate kisses, the loud pleasure filled sighs released through our open mouths,

The risks taken to enable experience,  the heights climbed to taste each other's essence. 


I turn on the cold water in the shower, lean my back against the tiled wall and with my arms suspended above my head I envision tall waterfalls pouring over my breasts,

I close my eyes and touch my bare skin, I dream of rushing rivers running between me, filling my body, soaking my senses, cleansing my spirit,
I see myself swimming in oceans, floating on water, letting wild waves crash my body,

I see him traveling fluidly, exploring the spectrum of elements; flooding my earth, inhaling fire, swaying wind; 

Intertwined between long earthy stems, pleased and pleasing. 


Thursday, July 2, 2015


I'm humbled by the great works. Over confidence deters growth. Amazing is relative to perspective. 

Greatness is defined by what one can achieve that others have not or what one can introduce or innovate. 

I wouldn't want to be called great in comparison to the not so great. Just because you are more skilled than others doesn't make you the best. 

There will always be someone more skilled than you, but not more original, for originality is an attribute of the individual. 

Now, I wouldn't mind being described as natural and fluid. 


Tuesday, June 30, 2015


Weaving patches to cover the torn pieces, the needle pierces right through my finger, 

I don't attempt to replace my comforter, I cut pieces of old fabric, I seek stronger threads, 

I do my best to preserve my relic, but sometimes It's easier to cover myself with other blankets,

But I long for the old, I long until my tearing fabric full of patches is upon me,

Sometimes I cheat on all my blankets and lay between completely foreign sheets,

But I'm never able to sleep, I stare at the ceiling, anxious to rise, ready to leave, dying to reach for my patchy old cover,

Full and thirsty, desiring the lick of your sweaty skin, wanting to hear your grunting, needing to say I'm needing, 

As torn as I am, as much as I patch, I know that your water can soak up the desert that's become my skin, 

The patchy blanket that covers my heart has changed since I laid on your sheets, 

When your waves crashed my beach we created paradise in my body, you didn't mend, you didn't patch, you filled every crevice.  


Friday, June 19, 2015

We Choose

We decide within ourselves how we feel about experiences outside ourselves. We label situations as good or bad, as positive or negative, based on perspective, awareness, action and reaction. 

 We choose things, people, places, based on the amount of pleasure or pain they inspire. There are no coincidences, we are, we seek, we attract, we become, we create the feelings and the life we want. We suffer when we stop creating, we become lost, stagnant and at the mercy of the architects around us. 

 A moment is perfect when we choose to bring perfect awareness to it, a moment is sad when we choose to bring awareness to what's painful about it. And just because we bring awareness to sadness doesn't mean that we ourselves are sad, we are simply witnessing a sad perspective, we have simply brought awareness to one of the infinite perspectives we can choose to witness life through and it happens to be a perspective of sadness. 

 Fear, terror, shock, can sometimes sneak up on us, for our own defense mechanism will naturally generate these feelings to protect us in life threatening situations or when a dear one passes away. But it is our choice to remain in such feelings after we realize what we are experiencing. 

 We choose whether to give continuation to certain emotions, we choose whether to continue to entertain certain feelings. So yes, we choose who we love or should I say, we choose who we allow ourselves to love. Sometimes we make decisions so quickly that it might feel like we had no choice but we have complete freedom over who we choose to journey with. 

 But when it comes to fitting with another perfectly, well, for a glove to fit your hand it must not only be a certain size but your hand must also be open and relaxed.


Wednesday, June 10, 2015


At first sight he was pretty, pretty with an Ivy League haircut, pretty with smooth golden locks parted to the side, pretty with gold eyelashes and eyebrows, pretty with ocean eyes and a smile....a very pretty smile. 

A beautiful preppy man out of a Ralph Lauren catalog, he held his head high, his neck cocked attentively listening to every word I said. His humor was cut and dry and I  surprised him by not being faded by his blunt remarks. 

He sat up straight, held his glass gracefully, slowly sipping his Samuel Adams ale. Pretty and poised, like a leading character in a James Bond film. 

His military training was apparent in his reserved manner, he kept his hands to himself and his speech was direct, his eyes were serious and his piercing glance scanned me for truth. 

He was arrogantly funny, entitled yet charming, and knew exactly what he wanted. I was hormonal, having hot flashes in October, high on anxiety, sweating and lying to myself about what I was doing there. 

The beginning was painful, I refused to give in to my desires, mainly because I hadn't planned to and once I make a decision I'm a hard head to change. I was green, I wanted to meet new people but in my own secluded way, I didn't know what I was in for so I ran away. 

 And as I was leaving he played me "You can go your own way", a Fleetwood Mac song.
He thought the song appropriate as it was one of my favorite artists and he felt that I was making a mistake. 

After a few laps around the block I went back, I wanted to be with an adequate man and having no strings attached no longer sounded so bad. He had deleted me, but he too went back, maybe because I was a prize once refused to him or maybe I simply made contact at the right moment, you'd have to ask him. 

Months had past since we first met, I had no expectations,
My experiences didn't let me, and I went in there thinking,
"This will be quick and easy",
Like riding a bike, like cleaning my teeth, "This will be easy, I can do this". 

We came together again at the end of March, as an ex lover of mine would say, "I made it happen". And he trusted me, maybe because I stood up for myself when we first met, maybe because I didn't laugh at his jokes, maybe because I didn't give in to his pretty hair and eyes and smile and....And so he accepted my words as truth and put his life in my hands, and flattered and extremely stupid I did the same. 

And he kissed me with his pretty face and lips and tongue, and he touched me with his pretty hands and fingers and finger tips, and he pressed his long torso against mine and began to cleanse. 

His burning skin, his sticky sweat, his unparalleled intensity, his unstoppable energy cleansing me, his exuding pores, his dripping wet hair soaking my face, his glistening abs rubbing against my belly cleansing me. 

I felt his entire being inside me, conquering untouched spaces, filling empty places, pushing out idle visitors, carving out rotten memories, filling me whole, he washed, washed old ghosts and created new marks and dents and ripples inside me. 

In a primitive physical way,
In a anti emotional way,
In a non-intentional spiritual way, he dressed my infected wounds, poured himself into me, infected me with healing serum, creating the necessary antibodies I needed to kill the diseases eating me.

Emptied and replenished, erased and renewed, dirtied and cleansed, he reset me, setting a new standard, giving me a new beginning with greater heights to climb up to. 

Magnificent, perfect to me, underneath a mischievous cloak lies a sweet boy, a leader, a structured soul, inside a fierce beastly body lies a compassionate healing man. 

I realize that without my own perfection, without my eyes and vision and senses, without my presence, awareness, perception, he couldn't have performed such miracles. He's perfect through my experience and reflection. 

So I give thanks, I feel gratitude for the opportunity to experience perfect cleansing moments of healing and clarity. 

People come into our lives and we judge, we judge them for being different, we criticize, and many times we miss out on amazing experiences that can happen when two entirely different worlds collide.


Sunday, April 26, 2015

The Poet

"What is a Poet?… He is a man speaking to men; a man, it is true, endowed with more lively sensibility, more enthusiasm and tenderness, who has a greater knowledge of human nature, and a more comprehensive soul, than are supposed to be common among mankind" 


We can see, we can smell, we can taste, we can hear, we can feel, we can touch beauty, but when we do, when the image is imprinted in our minds, when the light is reflected into our hearts, when the sensation is recorded by our limbic, when the pleasure touches our soul, when the smell triggers our feelings, when the sounds keep us awake at night, when the taste is all we can dream about, beauty becomes an obsession, an addiction we pray to consume and to let it consume us. 


Sunday, March 29, 2015

Crazy Love

It was crazy, 
Velvet red skies dipped in gold,
Her love was passionate clouds 
Enfolding every inch of her lover,
A wild intense magnetic affection, 
It was definitely crazy,
And that's how we knew it was true.

Her love for herself,
Her love for everyone else,
A cooling fountain,
A spring of kindness,
Calming the weary,
Invigorating the fighters. 

Her love for the world,
Poetic, Compassionate,
Soulful, expressive.
Her love for a lover,
A burning flame,
In the sun or in the rain,
Ever lit consuming fire,
She'd give and give again.

Her inspiration,
Her art,
Awakening energy,
Renewing hearts,
Inspiring life.

The higher self,
The conscious goddess,
The lover of worlds,
Light Illuminating galaxies,
Crazy love transforming hearts.

It was crazy,
A blue dragon with skin like water, 
Wild, guided by love unconditional,
Flying alone, and occasionally ridden by fools,
She was definitely crazy,
And that's how we knew she was love.


Making Love

I make love to his wild hair
I bury my face in his mane 
I make love to his scent 
I rub my nose against his skin

I make love to his hands
Gently interlocking fingers 
I make love to his beard
Sniffing and caressing 

I make love to his soul
I welcome him into my heart
I make love to his light
I let it saturate my body

I make love to his eyes 
I dive into his tenderness 
I make love to his beauty 
His graceful warrior spirit 

I make love to him 
I let him see everything 
All he is engages me 
Love is made, not given 


You don't know how...

When you close your eyes 
You arrive
When you shut your mind
Your soul is by my side

And it tells me 
It tells me
You don't know how
You don't know how

When you fall into slumber
Your spirit comes
When you're dreaming 
I'm with you

And you tell me
You tell me
You don't know how
You don't know how

You come at night 
Always confused 
I give you light
And you abuse

You wake me up
To shut me out
I give you love
And you refuse

I wake up scared
I rise in fright 
Wondering why
I can't touch you

And they tell me
They tell me
You don't know how
You don't know how


To Let Love

To Let Love

We can't be happy for others if we're not happy.

We can't give love if we don't feel love for ourselves.

We can't accept others when we don't accept ourselves.

We won't appreciate others when we don't appreciate ourselves.

We won't let others go freely into the direction they desire if we aren't giving ourselves the freedom we deserve.

We will do to others as we do to ourselves.

If we are hurting we will hurt others.

If we are insecure we will be jealous of the success of others.

If we feel weak we will envy the strength of others.

And nothing anyone can do, no matter how much love they give,
How much another appreciates and accepts us,
If we don't love, appreciate and accept ourselves we will perpetually feel unhappy and envious and insecure.

Letting go is not stopping caring,
Letting go is the beginning of caring more about ourselves 
And less about what others are doing and feeling and thinking.

Letting go is awakening to our potential, our worth, our beauty,
Our influence and impact on the world around us.

Letting go is giving others the same freedom we deserve.

Letting go is not just about not depending on another to make us feel happy,
It's not just detaching ourself from destructive, possessive, negative feelings.

Letting go is allowing others around us to live as they wish, 
So that we too can live as our heart desires; 
Ignoring the negative vibrations and bringing to surface the treasures of our heart,
allowing compassion to overtake cynicism, criticism, judgment of ourselves and others. 
To let go is to enter the path of awakening to unconditional love for ourselves and the world.


Coming Alive

You come alive inside me
Swimming in spiral currents 
Surfing the waves of emotion
Flowing with the changing winds

Climbing inside me
Crawling throughout me
In every cell of my body
In every corner of my soul

You come, you come
You stay, you stay,
You sleep, you sleep
And from here you never leave

I find solace in your soul
I'm always there
Always with you
And from you I never leave

Encircling my heart 
You're always here
Always with me
And from me you never leave



We don't write for praise, fame, fortune, we write to empty the ocean of words within our spirit, 

we write when we feel submerged by emotion, we write because we have stories to tell, we write because we need to in order to heal, 

we write because we need to see ourselves splayed out in front of us, we write so we can move on from troubling thoughts, 

we write because it is how we cope with living, we write because we shaped ourselves into writers, 

we write because it is the easiest way for us to express ourselves, we write because it is our calling, our talent, our artistic expression, we write Period.


Heart Language

And after years of listening and acting on thoughts generated by the mind, we found that though we can't help but to listen to these echoes of foreign and inner turbulence, we do not have to repeat them, believe them, identify or act on them. 

After witnessing what happened when we allowed reason to guide us, we found that reason took us further away from our heart's desires. 

So we cultivated a new language, we invested in the path of least or no resistance, we allowed the present moment to freely unfold. 

And we shut our minds, we silenced our tongues and allowed our hearts to speak. And though we do not understand our hearts and have no idea what they're saying, we feel that the language they speak is magnificent and expresses more wisdom than anything our minds could ever conceive. 

So we lay touching hearts, allowing, accepting, loving from root to root; from soul to soul, from heart to heart. 

And we continually find that our hearts have been speaking all along, even when our minds eluded us, even when our souls lacked light, but specially when love was scarce; Ours hearts never stopped communicating and reciprocating. 



And then the mask falls, 
Her face opens, 
And though her pearls might not be showing, 
The smile in her heart is wide and brilliant, 
And her eyes reflect the radiance of her soul.
And it's all for you, all for love, 
Her showing of feelings, 
Her show of emotions-
Some which you never felt, 
Others which you hope to feel, 
But all of what you want to see 
And keep memory of experiencing. 
Light attracts us, 
Pulls us in, fills us, 
Feeds our hunger for passion,
Intensity, discomfort, aliveness.
Light directs awareness to our soul, 
Makes conscious our necessity to heal,
Light reveals what's hidden in darkness,
Shines on our meticulously stored secrets.
And beauty, beauty reflects us, 
Shows what mirrors conceal,
Reveals what our souls are made of, 
Inspires potential, fuels dreams, 
Helps us connect with soul wisdom.
Beauty embraces imperfections,
Envelops them in love, 
Beautifies all that is receptive,
All that is rooted in love.
Beauty embodies all elements;
Strong like wind it swirls around you,
Enveloping you in a compassionate hug, 
Freeing you of your chains,
And displaying your nakedness.
Beauty is wild like water,
Guiding and stirring
And quenching your thirst for knowledge.
Beauty is fruitful like earth,
Developing your seeds, 
Molding and supporting your dreams.
Beauty is revolutionary, like fire,
Cleansing, renewing,
Giving new chances for a new you.



Oh, lovely one,
How I love thee,
And how sweet you sleep,
Cuddled in tenderness,
Immersed in affection,
You caress the blanket with your soft skin, 
Your sweet face sinks into the comforter, 
Comforting and warming the places you lay,
And the delightful tip of your nose 
gently touches the quilt, 
And you breathe through the one exposed nostril,
Constantly opening your mouth 
to compensate for the shortage of incoming air, 
Sleeping on one side of your face, 
One eye half opened, passed out in slumber,
In coma induced dreams, 
Your ears attentive, lifted, 
As if the only conscious part of your body, 
And your gentle hands embracing your fragile chest,
My sweet love, how graceful you lay, 
How magnificent you sleep, 
Oh lovely one, how I love thee. 



It took me a long time, 
But I healed myself,
I enlightened my mind,
I changed my perception,
I opened my soul to love,
I accepted the fact that I'm loved.

Loving a toxic person,
For so long,
Not understanding why,
Not wanting to accept,
There are no exceptions,
When someone is toxic.

And you torture your mind,
Wondering why they keep coming back,
You tell yourself they love you,
But how can they love you,
If they don't respect you,
Don't appreciate you,
Hurt you when they don't have to.

They come back because they're empty,
Because you're amazing,
Because you're love,
Because they need to use you,
To feel your love,
To feel alive,
Because they are toxic,
Because they lack self worth.

A sick soul is easy to identify,
They function in patterns,
They tell you what you want to hear,
They are shameless,
They'll tell you anything to use you,
They don't feel remorse,
They don't evolve,
They'll stab you over and over again,


Drunk Mentor

Red eyes, blank stare
Breathing out cold air
Empty chest, burnt tongue
His dragon heart is frozen

Day's done, night begins
Bottle in hand
He sips till sleep creeps in
Rescuing his soul from abyss 

Day starts with a headache
But there are people waiting
Depending, needing 
So he rushes out to see them

Weekend comes
Wasted days begin
A chance for strange sex
He puts on his best mask

Sunday arrives
He didn't get enough
So he pounces on my love
But I'm a fast prey 

Struggling to reach me
He throws compliments 
But I'm used to this chase
So I keep running steady

Waiting for me to tire
He sits with his laments
Controlled by his past
Removed from the present 

My soul tightly embraces the boy 
My heart reaches for warmth
But all I find is dust
Dirt where passion used to be

But lately, I stopped reaching 
I watch his flesh sinking
Bones breaking
Muscles shrinking 

And I hear a scream
 "Go to your love"
And I continue to walk forward
Knowing the worst is over 

And he says I'm the best
The best drink he's ever had
And the devil watches me closely
Waiting for the upper hand

And he sits in his castle 
In his secluded throne 
And in a bottle he finds courage 
To convince others to join him

Hoping they won't be disappointed
For what he expects he cannot give
So he sits back with his drink in hand 
Wondering if I changed my number again



As I grow older I begin to notice,
That the only thing we own is now,
And that the only love we have is Now.

All we have is within the present,
And every moment is precious,
And love never waits for the right time;

The right time for us to feel rested,
For us to be groomed and ready,
For us to be healed and fearless.

Life doesn't wait for us to feel inspired,
Good looking, healthy, happy or ready,
Life challenges us to act despite discomfort.

Life happens and if we're in tune,
If we're aware enough to go with the flow,
We move along and try not to mess things up.

Every present moment is an opportunity, 
A chance to love more, to share more, 
To be more of who we want to be.

This knowledge can prompt us to move faster;
It can scare us, make us adopt a strong sense of urgency;
Making us so focused trying to make the most of every moment 
That we neglect the stillness inside us and lose touch with our soul.

There are many who have lived or live this way,
Trying to be everywhere and do everything at once;
Unaware, anxious, depressed, nervous, angry,
Unconscious, disconnected from their true self.

That is not the kind of taking charge that I'm referring to,
I'm not saying that we must do it all now,
I'm explaining that we can love it all now-
By accepting the grandness that is the now,
By embracing the unconditional love the present offers,
By stoping the chase after past or future presents.

Before the next hour, week, month, year,
Before the next decade arrives,
Before old age gets here,
Before we are set in our ways
And it's harder to change,
Before our chance has passed away.

Why not be in love with who we are now, 
Why not love the life we were given today, 
Why not accept the love we are being offered now;

Embracing the parents we still have left,
The neighbors we are set up next to,
The coworker we are chosen to work with,
And the people who genuinely care and strengthen us.

But most importantly,
Why don't we guide and control the ego we created,
Why don't we stop identifying with temporal thoughts,
Why don't we start feeling with our spiritual minds,
Why don't we stop judging and labeling,
Why don't we stop criticizing and spreading negativity.

Time will never turn back to grant us a second chance,
All we can do is give our best now,
And our best always comes from our heart.

As time passes I begin to see,
That any and every feeling counts,
That what we take pleasure in saying
Can inspire but also wound.

And if we want peace within and throughout,
We must consider our thoughts
Before we write and speak our mind,
For we can be cruel and destructive sometimes.

I now understand what our choices can do,
How much every decision affects our future,
And how I gave way to where I am now.

There is only one love- the Now love,
There is no saving love for later.
You are love or you are resisting love.
I now see, I now accept, that Now is it.


Share Now

 We always think we have time,
But the reality is that our time is short.

We spend the little time we have 
Avoiding what is real,
Wasting the present,
Anxiously waiting,
Selfishly longing,
For what matches the illusion in our head.

Tomorrow is never guaranteed,
And love is never about others,
It's always about us,
And how much we allow
Ourselves to feel and share.


Undying Passion

There's so much I'd like to say,
But I've said so much in the past,
That I'd rather keep it all to myself.

I've broken every resolution,
I've gone back on every decision,
I've changed my beliefs,
Regarding Us.
I've given up on understanding
You and Me.

I miss you,
But not like a lover misses another.

I miss you like a ghost misses living,
I long for you like a free diver longs for air,
I want you like a prisoner wants freedom,
I love you like Rumi loved Shams;
Unconditionally, incomprehensibly,
Uncontrollably, ineffably.

I love you in God consciousness,
With eternal peace,
With immeasurable joy,
I love you with all I am, was, and hope to be.

In a constant state of slow gravity,
Completely detached from everything around me.
I feel like I've lost something of great value,
But I'm not sure if it is love, time or a part of me.

My body is a feather floating on air,
And I can hear my heart beating,
Slow, fearing the wind's direction,
Longing for my resting place,
Envisioning a perfect landing on your heart-- 
To see, to smell, to feel the beloved near. 

There's so much I'd like to say,
But I've said so much in the past,
That I'd rather keep it all to myself.