Emotions

they are abstract

can’t be catched

we think

they belong

to the hearts of men

surely somewhere else then den

they got shades

many and new

with different names

we all match them

for us to know

calendar days

after speaking to time

I went wondering

where did it go

where does it come from

from the mountains

or hills?

or the rivers and the storms ?

I took a net

and kept a snare

but couldn’t catch the time

as it is

it went on

not taking stops

says it swallow me

and go on

being true

it’s like a character

one which means to stay

on the path same

going straight

when, it’s that your heart speak

pure

writing

it’s a habit

a need at times

an education of sorts

a means of life

a way of communication

one which we can store

it comes in all variations

with similarities of different sort

temperature

it like’s hot and cold

many variations

many shades

a spectrum of range

it’s like measuring how hot we are

or cold is it outside

past-time

it’s an accumulation of all that’s gone

a history from the future

right in the present bowl

and I hear memories

as they talk

maybe this went wrong?

and that did surprise!

will I have it more long

or the album is finished

dreams

dreams help me weave

the unseen or heard

dreams I do

with open eye

and closed

dreams are a gate

a way to new life

keep dreams

and make them your might

and if they

turn to a reality

you no longer have to dream

poem

a piece of work

a piece of reflection

a piece of art

part of poetry

part of universe

part of the being

a strong emotion of expression

like a river forming, an ocean being drained

like the whispers of the sun, as it passes it’s base

like the moonlight, falling on the leaves

like the clay child

breathing life

exercise

I like to run

early in the morning

it’s helps me stay

fine the day

I swim at times too

makes me inside gravity free

and when outside

like gravity pulling

I can do many baskets

when taking a lot of hits

I like the sweat of the games

whatever it is