Sunday, February 19, 2012

Maybe today, we just go on foot.

Let's go elsewhere and be happy,
Let's get on a Vespa, and find a place elsewhere,
Let's roll around like gangsters, or hipsters or just curious wanderers

Let's find a new place with new people and sprinkle some magic dust on them,
And just when it gets rough
We get on our Vespas and drive away again

We keep going as wanderers dressed as hippies

Maybe to a forest, or a far away land

And even find another new place, maybe in a distant country,

We go there and be happy

Amaze them with who we are
And be amazed by their every smile


And just as it gets too cold for us,

We get on our vespas and drive away again
We go somewhere new
Or maybe somewhere old and comfortable
We go there and be happy

And just when the familiar gets a bit boring,
We get on our Vespas and maybe go around searching for our men
Men who have passion to ride and passion to go elsewhere
Men who will make love to us on our Vespas

And yet again, we get on those Vespas with our men
And drive away, with open arms and carefree love
To anywhere our Vespas have in plan for us

We go there and be happy

And when we look back at the places we’ve gone to
We can rest in comfort and satisfaction
Because we have lived, as wanderers
and we have loved the change in our life
And our path has been traveled
And our travel has been worthwhile

And our Vespas,
They have never had people like us
People who would go farther than where the road ends
People who would dance on wet soil and warm sands
People who would just keep on going
People who were happy with wherever they were going

But we were, and we did.
And we will live, as we will.

And wherever we will go,
we will be happy.

Maybe not Vespas, but bicycles
Or a Blue Peugeot
Or a train
Or a bus
Or a plane

Or, and that’s the best part of it all, just on foot.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

For my Greatest Love.

For it is a war, and it is often devastating.

For every piece of our hearts who lost the fight, who won it over, and who are still on the battlefield.
For my sweetest heartbeat and my deepest heartache.
For all the frontline soldiers.

February 4.

For the days that break in me, she gathers my pieces to make them whole again.
For when I forget to smile, she bakes a cake with her burning hands.
For every little accomplishment, she calls me her pride.
For every day she hurts, i will forever be scared.

For in her suffering she handed me not just a weapon, but a shield.
For all that i am, and all that i ought to be; all the faces i will meet and the places i would want to see.
I know, my greatest encounter is, and will always be, the woman who bore me.


Despite its cruel attack you have looked it in the eye, challenged its very existence, with a song and a smile.
For the years that passed, and your years to come.



For you are beautiful.
For you, i will always write.
For you are my greatest love.