When it’s done


Roles and expectations

We rarely ask questions
Who’s the controller
And who the caretaker?
That’s usually clear.
We do like
What we know.
Soft and washy traditions
fixed in our minds.
And when it’s done
It looks like a warfield.
Love was never the problem,
But the lack of respect
For life itself in all its facets.
Yet people prefer to talk
Instead of asking questions.




Dreaming light

Almost awake

Almost meditating

Dreams of the past

The present and the future

Hundreds of thoughts

And some doubts too

Replaying situations

Looking for absolution

And a path of truth

To walk into existence

The way it’s been meant to be

A unique walk

Just meant for me

Stopped burning


And the sun has set

Stopped burning me

Refreshing winds

Try to embrace me

Understanding is giving

Giving up is giving

Observing is learning

An open heart is…

Don’t know yet.


In blue they live


Deep blue or slight turquoise

Life in a beautifully destined style

Still within a scope of options

Sky blue with white shadows

The illusion of limitless

Yet inspiring and reflecting from above

And me in the middle

Wondering where and what my options are

And how many borders I yet have to cross


Blowing faster


The wind blows faster

through the colorful corridor

Invites you to seek for his origins

Somewhere at the seaside

More than an hour away

People come to a quiet and calming place

To make it loud and agitated

Children scream and parents shout

Adults start talking louder

I guess that’s the way it is

when you have more than one child

Oh, dear wind! Don’t give up on blowing

refreshing my mind

and trying to bring back calmness

into this colored corridor




Sometimes we walk

through life

unlearn to see the scars

we got while together

‘n just go ahead

and smile at each other

forgetting the fact

that our little walk

takes place on a vulcano

which isn’t sleeping


Found on Displate.com


Voices from the past


Just one of these nights

but rarer and rarer

Carmenére and green tea

You wish you could do the same

at this very moment

Just walk out

walk the streets

mix your feelings

let the memories come

but you live in the wrong city

you’re living in a secret prison

you’re being maybe a secret person

nights come and cover

and homes become cages

and wandering souls

only keep wandering in their own minds.






Photo by Aletha-YF



Love’s Stages


This poem was written for my brother-in-law and his beautiful wife. They got married in December and this is what came to my mind.


Love’s Stages

When young
we chase it
Madly passionate about the other
and head over heels
We give our bodies away
While growing older
We feel a stronger need to share
Our deepest thoughts
And to be held
by someone truly special
While growing together
We learn to listen
And therefore understand
We may kiss less passionate
But grip much stronger
While letting the fruits
Of our attraction grow
We learn about limitations
And unconditional love
Nurturing itself
From generation to generation
May love be your companion
And make life worth living
by: Igotdaisies

Living in circles


Circles of time

circles of people

circles of love

and loneliness


Circles are …. just are

they repeat what has already been sad

and already been done


And life goes on

and years pass by

some circles get wider

some might get tighter


Only when someone’s gone

a circle breaks up






Morning hours 


The sun shines gently on my skin 

While birds sing me about their past nights dreams. 

People in their thirties, forties, fifties and even sixties walk and run 

All up and down the river bank. 

The football courts are empty yet 

Because teenagers tend to sleep longer. 

My shadow,  long and slim 

Sitting on a bench while typing 

And remembering the past mornings 

That I have spent in places 

Very far from here.