Quo Vadis?

home is where your heart leads you,

not to a castle or a refuge,

a limited space to physically belong to,

or a time to chronologically  possess you

like a cursed interlude.

home is a little heaven on a small earth

settled down

by a loving God

to restore the original myths of love

and help create our dearest recollections

with our most beloved ones.

home is the warmth you breathe in

next to those willing to save you

from the thin air of a heartless past

simply by holding your hand
or kissing your tears  
until your confidence becomes tall enough

to have its thirsty roots reach the ground.

Human Network

According to the Breaking News

Another high-profile couple split up.

After years of compulsive jealousy,

and lousy behavior from  his part –

he, finally, decided to cheat, then break up.

A man brutally killed his ex-wife

and, subsequently, committed suicide

Right after writing an informative letter

to their orphaned son, confessing the terrible murder.

A young mother of five  

has breastfed her newborn baby in jail

as a result of an alleged attempt

to bribe a prison guard

so that he would favor the imprisoned grandfather

by allowing him to use a strictly prohibited mobile.

Two political leaders 

Started a new fight over a lower tax rate

Which had nothing to do - I assume -

With last night’s low-magnitude  earthquake

Taking place in my area while I was not awake.

The only news that will affect our future

Is that the school year began a week ago, as planned,

In every village, every town and  every city of the country

and neither the 1^st nor the 2^nd graders

had any textbooks to open and to learn from.

Rhetorical Question

“Is this the best of all possible worlds?”…

“Will  I make  the right choice?”…

“Has my life been meaningful enough so far?”…

"What’s really wrong with these questions,

invading our existence like parasites?"

Worst of all, they feed on our weaknesses,

inflaming our anxieties and our most intense fears,

freezing our veins throughout the summers and springs,

painting our minds  in the saddest shade of blue

on the bluest of all planets,

nerve-wracking our bones,

cutting down our gains,

infesting our daily joy,

upsetting our heart-shaped organs,

belittling our spirit,

turning  their back on our tears,

activating our fight-or-flight mood,

paralyzing our feelings,

only to leave us prisoners
to a darkness of poisonous ingratitude

attesting only the supremacy of the absurd.

Mute Revolution

My memory’s losing weight

      For long  it’s been on a diet;

For every shadow of regret

      It will embrace the silence.

In twos, we close our eyes

      To worship the rolling dice

Or to believe the pretense

     We' ve never left paradise.

I could play you a new song,

      Or sing the old one for you,

But to stay tuned all along

      I’ll revolve around this fall.

Instead of orbiting  the sun

      and have gravity against me

I will travel in a straight line     

    Then spin around and be free.

Green-Hearted Discretion

Should  we be asked

how many broken hearts

can be found

in a private collection,

would we  recount them all?

Would we reveal their real number

or would we stumble with our words

and have our clumsy hesitation mistaken

for a memory loss?

Wouldn’t  we wish

we could  withhold  the answer

to simplify an unflattering  reaction?

A circle of silence should  proclaim

the  deserved  moderation  

summoned  to publicly  restore  

the lost tokens of innocence,

our defeated good nature,

sinned against by our infamy gestures

or wounded solitudes.

Standing ovations and shiny rewards

will go to anyone

whose supreme sacrifices,
seemingly reduced,

have  been recycled and reused

to pay  for  the  damage.