How, my love,
do I write you
just a poem,
when it is
all of poetry
you deserve?

(Read more below)

-

There's a reason I
don't want an iPhone:
it's an OhMyGodWhy? phone,
a frustrated sigh... phone,
groan, moan, take-a-loan phone
that is guaranteed to crack
when it falls out of my back
pocket, it's not rocket
science to design a device
to survive gravity's attack.

(Full Poem in Caption)

-

She came home with the packet in hand, not wrapped in newspapers.

Family shocked: "How could you..."

She retorts, "They're pads, not pavs."

-

The doors
I've shut
outnumber
the paths
ahead.

I can only
see the map
with closed eyes:
vision
without sight.

How ironic;
closure,
I find,
needs
openings.

-

It's been so long
since that last
- touch -
I've forgotten
I've once felt.
On frozen stone
no moss has grown;
touch me
and I'll melt.

-

Let us meet once again,
not as lovers, but friends,
with the odds on beginnings,
not ends.

-

I’m the gift your government received:
a gift that keeps on giving, 
especially to those ill-fated
enough to keep on living.

I’m the promise in the leader’s speech,
broadcast with a delay to obscure the screech
of the falling objects that children look up to,
and then – suddenly - 
don’t.

I am the plague the prophets foretold:
ageless, timeless, and remorseless, I kill.
Your cities fall and crumble,
they always will; 
But I, your firstborn, will never get old.

-

Today is a good day

-

What is age, but a number?
Old age is but second youth.
Each year makes us younger.
And that is an age-old truth.

-