Secret Garden of Dreams

The wrong chance is not a life of ease
I just could stay like this, frozen in peace.
For the love I can’t reach I’d rather still
and give myself a secret garden to live.
Where my thoughts and lost feelings will be
like the wild born horses run young and free.
Then I could just be and never pretend:
so useless a life where you can’t stand.

Silence killer

Never ever live in silence.
Everybody can hurt you when you’re silent.
Scream out loud, let your life be an eternal cry.
Let everybody know your alive, moving in the time-line.
I hold you tight ’cause I can see your light,
you’re so beautiful I can’t express..
my feelings in your hand.

Perfect feeling

If I could write about the perfect feeling of this night, I would do it.

As this summer breeze touches my skin, giving relief after the heat, making me shiver in pleasure.

I listen to the nature turning this world around.

Birds are going to sleep and some dogs are talking loud as the car is running away, where to, nobody knows yet, and nobody ever knows this road destination.

So I take the anger and throw it away as God let me all this life running free through these veins of mine.

And I can feel this great pleasure for life, a love I recognize, I’ve always known, but I’m not sure it comes from this world.

I feel I’m connected to the Big Infinite, just in front of this open window.

I would not go in any other place, just for this moment, just for today.

It’s too perfect.

I think that this life is all I need.

There’s a place I long for

There’s a place where I used to be

it gave me much more than I keep

there’s this place where I long to be

it takes a life to set me free

and I’ll never be a part

of this secret I don’t catch

so, I take my feet and run

for a place I care, in my heart.

The core is safe

painting by T. C. Chiu

Memories are in the box,
thrown in the shadows.
I don’t want them,
I don’t need them.

I’m looking forward
to find me again.
I just need the bridge
a wooden one.

This island of myself
nobody knows.
It’s hard to play cheerful
as I am, but not really.

I love emotions,
fire and wind,
the boredom is a fog
covering my leaves.

I try to protect
what I keep inside,
not letting my life
to drawn my feelings.

So, I keep on going,
day by day,
smiling and mumbling
never the core to be shown.

Moving on

Every once in a while I feel myself reborn.

I find my inner furniture moved aside,

my spiritual walls refreshed in yellow,

the small window changed its curtains,

I don’t understand,

where is Myself?

But I take a better look

and I see the painting

the one that never changes

the one with my secret garden

the one who grows in my heart,

never-changing its nature.

 

Claustrophobic

And it’s so claustrophibic to be with myself. I can put the distance between them and I, but never cross this river that’s cutting myself into me and I.

So claustrophobic to be me and having to obey to all these feelings that keep going through my heart.

Thoughts and hopes passing by, leaving their mark in my soul, indelibles.

Who could ever understand another one if he’s not in his head?

This secret garden is growing in weeds and I lost my shears.

I think I’m gonna open the window and breath the breeze.