From within a ground, roots grow deep
like screams I hear in my sleep...

There's this thing called the ego,
It likes sitting on the passanger seat...

On one hell of a morning, when the lair of an evil...
“Mr. J...

It is through you, my beloved, poetry
that I have found a universe...

Who am I but some matter
that matters not in the entire universe...

Oh Wind!
i am just a twig...

Poetry, no one knows you as much as I do,
you are not beauty born from roots...

"Stop it, you are splashing it all over...
Water spits clarity...

There once was a flower
so wild and rare...

Has the Wind stop blowing?
said the frog with loud croaks...

It appears
people don't enjoy the beating of my heart...

On an Sunday morning, when the crisp fall air...
"Such were the days when once the memories of...