Sunday, April 12, 2015


 Doodling has been one of my oldest habits, for sixty years I have scribbled
scratching surfaces, drawing on sand, wood, paper, the steam on windows.

When hands move without a conscious direction, a mindless concentration,

We all doodle, even a dot , a line, a circle, when the mind is absent, elsewhere,
hidden habits, inclinations, tendencies, like picking noses, chewing fingernails. 

These are personal habits, inherent birthmarks that have therapeutic potential.
Doodling is a form of art that happens automatically, without apparent intention.

Thursday, April 09, 2015


A point of view has dubious credibility
when one is approaching the hereafter,
an open mind, while yearning to dance
is coerced to take this cautious stance.
As the inner and the outer converge
at the verge of a highly ripened age,
the butterfly that was a worm once
will have to take one more chance.
Postulators are cautioned to consider
the quantum manifests ever changing,
there can be no point in contemplating
while a first hand episode is occurring.



Ideally speaking, 
one could never have enough friends.
Could someone you have never met, 
seen, spoken with, be also a potential friend?...
Trust is a basis for friendship, trust to share candidly
the unreserved, unedited, genuine you.
Dare you be friends with the unknown?,
We all could embrace the unknown,
if only caution, even fear did not keep us in the dark.
What are friends for, to catch a drift, give a darn.



I just washed down some paltry talk
with a gobble of watered down slurs
as I kept gargling my blabber mouth
idiotic idioms got caught in my teeth
rude remarks were stuck in my throat
as I was chewing every bit with spite
I furiously spat out what I should not
the argument now became rather hot
I had to bite my lips to stop the fight
my tongue is virulent when I’m right
it might impel to get out of my sight.