When I Look Outside the Window

Hope stands alone dressed in lightly colored array-
captured only by the expectation within the heart.
When properly courted, Hope unfolds herself
allowing the heart to melt,
Causing an eruption in the ordinary =
giving a new sense to the mundane.

Hope dances with delight when the heart gives her a chance;
she takes life cautiously by the hand-
strolling down roads.
A heart whispers secret desires
into Hopes blissful abandon, knowing they are safe there.

When I look outside the window,
i smile inside -
Hope is there . . .

The Slums of Techno

It lies in wait to cover me,this anxiety I feel -
as sweat beads from my fore head,I almost want to keel
over, from stupidity, that techno folks know not,
simple icons -and verbage used
-confuse the ones untaught.

More unanswered questions-
bottled pain reduced to numb,
cannot express myself in terms-
I am reduced to techno-slum.

Posted by Tesi at 8:27 AM 0 comments

There- but for the time to write, Go I

Off into the sunset, the tree studded hill meets the gaze of an early evening. Just beyong the hill, at the peak, one can see the depth and beauty unfolding in natural surroundings. Unmarred by preoccupation and stress that city life can bring, I sit here, on top of the hill, and drink in the intoxicating simplicity of life.

We Were Friends

Distant lives
distant times -
the enemy of state-
distant, oh so distant-
lies the helpless friend of fate . . .

The Courtship of a Silver Pen

Unto you do I pour out my soul- Through my pen flows the condition of one mortal life whose inked pages conduct a time line of hurt, pain, joy, sorrow, birth, death . . . and rebirth.

It is a strange relationship we have, this quill and my life. Yet my pen knows me better than any one person. My pen has shared more moments with me than any best friend. Countless cups of coffee witness the bonding frienship of ink, metal, paper and soul. Fusing together- birthing excruiatingly accounts (at times) of a life seeking for more...

My pen, my quill - an appendage of me.

Navigating Turbulent Waters

These are fast and turbulent times-
days of speed
days of net,
days on end - dead lines unmet.
Discourse given through words so quick,
spitting saliva,
anger burns quick;
mountains of resource -so ready to give,
but verbal accosting-just won't let it live.

Steer through this murkey water-
though the outcome is unsure,
a word that is fitly spoken
will bring a ready cure.

An Offering . . .

It is a simple-untarnished thing -
this, my soul is offering;
born in ink - the heart has spoken
in such a small but sincere token.

I offer you-
to once again,
view the words
so fitly spoken.

Tesi

It is a New Thing

Welcome to this world of fonts,
the melodrama of printed what-nots,
from those who choose to share a token
within a word, that's fitly spoken. . .
I offer just a simple line
Oh to write, is sublime!


Tesi