Marzenie

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Praga Połnoc

There are those who chase dreams,

imaginings of what could be.

~

There are some who chase shadows,

afterthoughts of sunlight’s sheen.

~

Then there are those who chase fantasies,

things that don’t exist and could never be.


To those who chase dreams,

remember to savor your reality.

~

To those who chase shadows,

don’t be afraid to cast your own.


To those who chase fantasies,

beware that what you seek to see

~

is not the truth, nor does it live

more than skin deep.

~

Your grasping hands may loathe to find,

that fantasies exist only in the mind.

Sierpień, 2015
Praga, PL

Peace

Peace is the feeling of

sunshine and sand.

_

Peace is the kiss of

seaweed and saltwater.

_

Peace is the sigh of

a sandcastle hit by waves…

_

it knows the sea was

meant to ensnare it.

_

And even if the sand takes

a different form,

_

the sand knows it will be

reborn more beautiful.

_

This is peace.

Santa Monica, CA
April, 2015

Hunting

Photo on 4-4-15 at 10.46 AM

Hunting

One day I went hunting,

for something I couldn’t name.

I looked within the gardens

of palaces and dreams.

_

One day I went looking,

in places I shouldn’t go.

I looked within the catacombs

of empires and thrones.

_

One day I went searching

in villages and mosques.

I looked inside the hopelessness

of people who were lost.

_

Once I would go hunting,

inside people’s hearts.

I looked within their fears,

and studied all their faults.

_

One day I discovered,

like Franklin and his bulb,

that what I was hunting for

was deep within my soul.

_

April, 2015
Los Angeles, CA.

Run Into You

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Dome of the Rock and Mount of the Olives, Jerusalem

There’s so much I want

to say to you,

so much I want

to ask.

_

So many questions,

in my head,

so many things I want

to know.

_

You seemed to have all of

the answers,

the world an atlas in

your mind.

_

I want to share

my thoughts,

and hear all that you

might think.

_

I want your clever

quips about

the people that

we see.

_

I want to hear the tales

and stories

that you always told

to me.

_

I want to know your

questions

and I want to search

for truth.

_

But you are so far

away,

and I am here

alone.

_

You are seeing

other things,

with people I

don’t know.

_

But I’ll write all of

my questions

right here on my

notepad,

_

so should I ever run

into you,

these questions I

will ask.

_

Like, how can black and

white exist

where there is so

much gray?

_

And why do people’s hands

criss-cross

so different when

they pray?

_

Google may just have

the answers,

but not with your

special hue.

_

So I write all of

my questions

right here on my

notepad.

_

Because one day I’ll run

into you

and these questions I

will ask.