•October 9, 2017 • 1 Comment

As he floated into the abyss, he only thought of one thing. The one emotion he always treasured. The one thought that mattered:


He barely had energy to work his console. He checked the battery and oxygen levels. It was devastatingly low. The warning lights flashed. He had silenced the alarms that told him over and over about his impending doom. If he is to die here alone in space, he wanted to die in peace.

Around him he could see the innumerable stars that lit up the sky. The earth too, was among them somewhere out there. But which direction he did not know. And how far away was also a mystery.

Why him, of all people. Why did he have to volunteer? Was the exploration of a time space anomaly floating just outside of the solar system worth risking the one life he had to live? What about his wife? What about his only child?

And now it had carried him across the universe, maybe millions of star systems away. Contact cut off from home. Oxygen running low. He had drifted here for months, looking for a way home.

He sighed. Love bound him to the ones he called most precious. Yet unlike the movies, the universe did not care about love. Love was a human construct. An emotion given a name whose sole purpose was to ensure reproduction and the survival of the species.

He began to feel his world darken around him. The oxygen must have run out. Even the warning lights seemed dimmer now. The stars too. He slowed his breathing down, savoring the last gulps of oxygen his body could consume. The last gulps of life that he held so precious.

It was almost gone now, the world around him. Only his thoughts seemed to drift in and out of his mind. Yet he felt his love for his wife and child as intensely as never before. But the universe did not care about love. For love was a human construct. Its purpose was reproduction and the survival of the species.

The blackness of death enveloped him. The reaper engulfed him in its pitch black shroud. He felt nothing. No pain. No discomfort. Just a sensation of nothingness. There was darkness but it was not cold.

In the furthest distance he could see a pinprick of white light. Was this the proverbial light in the end of the tunnel? He did not know. But all he could do was to effortlessly drift towards it. And through it all, even though he physically felt nothing, he could still feel that one emotion that never ceased to be. Love. But the universe did not care about love. Right?

The light became brighter and larger. Yes, indeed it seemed to be a an opening leading out of a vast tunnel. He drifted through this tunnel, his mind now a cacophony of thoughts and memories of his wife and child.

And suddenly, with no warning, life embraced him in its warm light. There was pain. There was agony. There was a struggle to breathe. He cried. His own voice sounded muffled and alien to him.  The series of events that followed were incoherent. There was a sensation of drowning. Then a sensation of being pushed. Then more pain. More sounds. More chaos.

In this incoherence, time was lost. Yet that one emotion that never seemed to go away lingered behind. His wife and child. He wanted to be with them. To protect them. He still felt his love burn within him like a cinder. Yet the universe did not care about love. Love was a human construct.

She felt tears in her eyes as she held his photograph. It’s been almost two years since they lost him. There was no hope, she was told. The anomaly had engulfed his craft and they had lost all contact. The governments were reluctant to fund a search and rescue operation. He knew the risks. So did his team. So did she. But did her little boy know? All he wanted was his father back.

How she wished he was here to see this. Their son, happily playing with the new puppy they rescued from the shelter. It was a strange story, how they found this little puppy purely by accident while passing by a random shelter, and feeling a random need to go look inside. Maybe she wanted a distraction from the pain. Maybe she thought it would be a good idea for her son one too. Maybe that was all it was because the moment they both saw this puppy running towards them they knew they had to bring him home.

There was something in his eyes. A sense of recognition. A sense of relief. A sense of love.

Could it be love? But how could he love people he had never met? Was this love born of his need to find a home? Was it born of his need to be safe?

Can dogs really feel love? Because love is a human construct. The universe doesn’t care about love.. right?

And yet when she sees the puppy look at her or her son, she can feel it in her heart. She can see it in his little eyes. That feeling of wanting to protect them. The feeling of family, warmth, happiness and all the good things in life. Every time she looked in those little eyes she felt a little happier. She felt loved.

Is love a human construct? Does the universe care about love?

Or is it the very thread that binds us from one life to the next?


image credits: UA magazine



•September 26, 2017 • 1 Comment

Happy to see you happy

You were so sad earlier

So afraid

So lost

So hopeless

But then you chose to speak to me

And tell me all your woes

You say I make you happy

You say I listen

I’m happy to see you happy

The world will spin on to tomorrow regardless

And I’m always here to listen to your woes

Until I die

Because you say I make you happy

I’m happy to see you happy

If you keep saying happy over and over

After awhile it becomes sound


Just like your place in the grand scheme of things

But despite all of this

I’m happy to see you happy

I guess with everything going on with you

You never really noticed

The sadness behind the smiles

The anger behind the kind face

The pain behind the calm

It doesn’t matter

I’m happy to see you happy

I’m always here to listen to your woes

The ever present shoulder to cry on

The free psychiatrist zen master guru

Or whatever else you want to see me as

Although my world is slowly falling apart

Into the hollowness within it all

And you may never see it until it all ends

I’m happy to see you happy



•September 1, 2017 • Leave a Comment

We all share

Even though there are so many of us

Wanting so many different things

We all share this same room

This same body

We seldom work together

But often take turns at the wheel

However there are times

Where we fight over it

Some of us like to be passive

Some of us want war

Some of us want a noble life

Some of us want to troll

Some of us want to be efficient

Some of us love chaos too much

Some of us want to be normal

Some of us are happily weird


Often we ask ourselves

How did we do it so well?

Over three decades now

Sharing the same shell

How much more can this form take

With all of us in here

Before it breaks

Into dust from which it came?

image credits:


•August 3, 2017 • Leave a Comment

She looked beautiful, standing against the moonlit window, the white bed sheet wrapped around her otherwise naked form. The longer I looked at her the more thankful I was for meeting her when I did. Chance is wonderful like that. My eyes caressed her slender figure, and drunk in the beauty of her dark hair moving gently to the night breeze.

She looked away into the night, into the dark distance, listening to whatever the night whispered to her. Her eyes focused on something beyond the grounds of the mansion, something beyond the lake. I could feel her excitement, as she traced her object of fascination with her dark eyes. I could feel her life coarse through her icy veins under her cold skin. Breathing in the night air, she let her sheet drop to the floor, revealing her flawless form I fell in love with at first sight.

She looked over her shoulder at me, her dark eyes piercing into mine as they always did, my lust for her rose inside me, stirring in my loins, raw and turbulent. My heart beat faster in anticipation. She smiled, that smile that would drive any mortal man insane as it had driven me. Aroused, I drank in her form with my eyes.

She looked back at the night, and leaped through the open window.

I wish I could say I could hear her run through the gardens like the wind, glide over the lake like a dream, but I would be lying. I could never hear her move when she was like this. Not when she was hunting.

Perhaps I would hear a scream tonight. Perhaps a gun shot. It did not matter. She would have her prey.

And she will be back in the morning, back in my arms. And I would be hers, always.


•May 31, 2017 • 9 Comments



What would you call being suffocated by the very thing that gives you life?

When what the dying man in the desert craves, came forth in unwarranted abundance?

Choking you with the fury of a thousand wrestlers?

Taking away all that you had

Perhaps even all that you will ever have

Your house cleansed without your permission

Your loved ones swept away in a matter of seconds

You saw their heads bobbing on the surface for a moment

And now they are gone

How do you live with what you have seen?

How do you keep moving forward?

What do you tell yourself?

When all around you is mud and water?


What do you do now?

Bronze Eyes

•April 3, 2017 • 1 Comment

As I look into your bronze eyes I wonder

What have you seen that I will never see

As you lie in your eternal stillness

Worlds pass by, stars roam free

And I ask of you for simple wisdom

To share what you have seen

To show the joys and sorrows

Of the places you have been

Yet you stare back at me

Your bronze eye holding my gaze

And here I stand in my own world

Lost within my own maze


“It is clear that you are much older than I am.”

Victory Horse

•January 22, 2017 • Leave a Comment
*But perhaps… it may be about you….*

What do you see when you look at the fields of nothing before you

Do you wish you were free to roam as your living counterparts do?

Or are you content to be forever frozen in your pose most glorious

Rearing up, neighing silently, hooves raised, victorious

They say you are to bring me fortune that is good

Yet here I am unable even to afford my food

Perhaps if I sell you, I may be able to get some money

And perhaps even score a fit or rather fine honey

“It is a good thing I am a horse and you are not”

“For it is better to not have your birthday forgot”

You asshole, I thought you were my friend, my aide

“Bro, you almost sold me to get laid…”


“Plus, I’ve seen you naked way too many times.”