Poems From the Precipice

    Victims of Success   Nothing as precious in the star-spangled universe Is to be found, than the multitudes That can crystallise speech from air With such guile that it leaves them unaware.   The trees and waves know no gods But the snow bears the footprints Of us that so consciously tread Our…

Inner Landscapes

Childhood   What world is this With so many blues? Birds fly like planes And houses Have balconies for faces. Olive trees Shake hands With palms. And beaches Drown with the tide. Oh mother, I don’t know!     The Pen   Like snow To a mountain, Or the cocktail To the man who screams…