Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Who Are You?

I can barely walk through this darkness.
Yet I follow the echoes of your voice.
The sound of which feels so near.
Yet I cannot reach you.
But it’s not even that.
I am afraid to hold you.
But I long so much to feel your touch.
Who are you?
And why does my heart pound when you’re near,
But even faster when I can’t find you?
I will follow the thought of your smile
Wherever it may lead me.
Be it a field of grass, or a bottomless pit.
But it scares me to take each step.
Each heart beat.
Each echo.
So I shall close my eyes and see who you are.
Or perhaps just someone who I thought existed.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Must Be Kidding

When I tell you what’s on my mind,
Do I bear a jester’s cap?
Can I show you what you mean to me,
Without thoughts of dreaming away a fantasy?
Can you stop laughing as if it’s a joke?
Can you stop thinking it’s a game?
I am neither trying to be tricky nor lame.
When I show you a rose, can you not look at the thorns?
I’m trying to get through, though only through words.
It’s all I can offer in exchange for your own.
Don’t think that this is funny, because all through the while
I’m just trying to imagine your expressions and smile.
A smile I can’t glimpse, but it’s got me dreaming.
Asleep or awake, I can’t stop thinking.
It pains me in a way I can’t describe.
And I’m in no position to do anything about it.
Day in and day out, this is me.
So I ask you now, can’t you see?
That in spite of the jester’s cap and the jokes that aren’t meant
In spite of the games or tricks that play themselves out
And in spite of all the inches, and yards, and miles
To you, I want to be close.
To remove the thorns from the beautiful rose.
And hope, and trust, and wish, with rambling prose
That maybe, just maybe, in my life, it’s you, I suppose.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


The whole Sandbox Story has been moved to a different blog page.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

A Winter's Tale

A snowflake gently glides onto Earth's softly cheeks
Not another sight can capture my stare
And this sight, of which the consequence is grand
Demanding the coldest and thinnest of air
Yet, I stand among the absence of heat
The absence of something that only my eyes can bear
For my skin overflowing with goosebumps is not enough
Not even my breath that gasps for air
Because how can you turn your sight away from a miracle
A sight of exquisiteness so rare
And as the snowflake lands, my eyes don't see where
For all this time the snowflake is falling,
Into your beautiful eyes I stare.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Random Conversation

A good friend came up to me the other day and said, "Marco, you're the only person I know in the whole world that would give just about everything, even though he know's he's going to get absolutely NOTHING in return!"

To my dear friend: That is not where the disappointment is. The disappointment comes when you expect something in return but get absolutely NOTHING...

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Table for Two

Over and over I dream of you
Even when I don't mean to
Even when I don't have a clue
Even when the sky's not blue

Does this mean that you're my world
Whether real or in my mind?
Even if I can't hold you
Can I call you mine?

Do you even notice me
Or do you choose not to?
Do you even notice my smile
And do you know I smile because of you?

But more importantly do you know that I cry
Also because of you
Do you know the pain that you cause me
All the sufferings i go through?

Yet, over and over I dream of you
Even when I don't mean to
Maybe that's just how I am
Maybe this is what it means to love you

Monday, August 11, 2008

Helen of Troy

It is not your fault.
The moment was right. Decisions were proper.
Though norm expects discreetness, don't mind what shall uncover.

Don't look back to what has done.
For regret and doubt will ruin legacy.
And time so golden will rid its glisten and build up intricacy.

Or has intricacy already set place?
If so, be unprepared for expectation.
For spontaneity and impulsiveness shall construct truthful reaction.

Don't even prepare for victory.
Win only because the theatre of war is understood precisely.
Power lies not in the smell of defeat, but rather in the humility over victory.

Purpose is not overcome.
There is neither a cause nor a culprit.
Triumph is not when a foe is defeated.
Triumph is when you realize the reason for why you defeated it.