Glass Walls

You walk the corridors and the halls, all day, everyday, by yourself. Or so you think. You see, you're never alone. They're always watching.

Spotlight

She'll dance in the dark. She'll dance without audience. She'll perform even if it robs her off her last breath. Even if it's all alone, in the dead of the night.

Skylights

In fact if you stare just hard enough at the edge of the sky during a sunset or dawn break, you will notice a thin sliver of this color of light which you couldn’t possibly place anywhere in the spectrum. Which strangely has a dream like quality. If I could, I’d fill a glass bottle with this nameless color, seal it with a cork and stare at it all day.

The Richer Man

Your custom three piece, gets chaperoned to dull charity dinners while I’m high on spirited talk, courtesy- streetlights and strangers.

Things we say

You speak of things I’ve never heard before and I tell you about my love affair with green eyes You frown and say, your eyes are brown but brown’s fine darling as long as you’re mine

The F-word

If a woman identifies with this word she is immediately typecast as another raving, tampon burning lunatic. If a stand up comedian cracks a joke about it, it is widely laughed at for it’s dark satire. This word is none other than probably the most controversial word of the century.

Metro Facade

She's got a spoonful of sass and a dollop of drama. She sashays in her Louboutins and smizes like a runway model. Simply, she's just another NYC chick. (Or is she?)

The Elemental Child

The child raised by the elements themselves, could only mean trouble ! " His childish fits of anger did civilizations end, to his whims and fancies the laws of space and time bend."

I See

"I see you in subtle shades of pastel, in tame shades of grey; And when you thought no one was looking, how you let golds and scarlets blaze."

Poetry- The best of the written word

It’s not this otherworldly goodness which you place in a glass case, which you can only stand back and gawk at. It’s this earthy thing you can touch, turn and inspect. That somehow is the best kind of poetry, the kind bleached of pretense, that takes all those words you always knew and creates something oh so beautiful by simple juxtaposition.