RAIN, RAIN, COME THIS WAY

I see drop after drop, a splash then a pour.

I love the way it falls silent,
tiny bits that makes a difference between the lives of the many.

That nursery rhyme tune hummed on the hearts of the weary.
Cornered by the madness that falls before them,
they don’t want to get wet-not now that is.

On the opposite side of the viewing mirror,
there I am; happy, glad, ever so gladdened by the sight of such wonder.

Rain shower brings me joy, monochrome sky filled day satisfy my soul.



That cold breeze every now and then,
I am yearning for throughout the year.

A tropical climate doesn’t suit my spirit.
I love it all gloomy and wet.

A good smoke, a great drink, coupled with a warm hug-ever so perfect.

Rain, rain come this way to me.
I’ll give you a cheer, a smile and love.

Stay for a while, since your all that I have.

Coffee, Smoke and Dreams

Not the most appealing of all things, but yes, in my own little world, its the essentials.

Dreams born with coffee and smoke in front. A good view of the city skyline compliments the shades and shapes of my cup and tray.

A thousand thoughts scrambling their way out of my mind down to my pen and into this paper-fluid like water, stiff like steel. A black coffee table top supports, acts as a foundation, becomes the witness to my success.

A quick glance at the window, frames my vision of the future. A quick puff out my nicotine stick blows negative emotions away-up, up in the air, disappearing into thin air all the unnecessary pockets of doubt.

This is my retreat, my sanctuary-where i get my head straight-my thoughts cleared.

As sand is to the sea, I keep coming back to such a place. The scent attracts me like a bee to its honey.

Love lost, love found, a quick balance check of all things fuzzy.

Ashes to ashes, the cigarette burns-10's, 20's-red's and greens. An assorted color of happiness, freedom and sin that satisfies the spirit, the soul of each and every traveler.



The pacific sea looms over the horizon. Mystic, majestic just like the half full glass of water being served with a smike-always in his smiling mask-I wonder how he does it.

In corporate or in plain, in leather or in rubber, no segregation-a perfect world situated at the heart of the province.

The sun shines, the clouds hover, my Zippo taunting, teasing-need a light?

You hear sounds but never make out what it is. Conversations thrown around-serious, jest, bullshit-the smiles and stares connects them, creates a vivid resemblance as to my own.



Waiting, wondering, time delayed for a moment.

Coffee, smoke and dreams born one day-one day at a time.

Smoker’s Sin

(Warning: Non-smokers are advised not read this piece)



In a flick of a finger freedom lights.

With a flame comes smoke billowing down my throat…
up my nostrils and out of my mouth.

A thousand flames are lit, in every corner of the street, in every city block, in most coffee shop lounge.

A piece of paradise found. Baked leaves-the burning sound. Silence.

Inhaling the scent, Nicotine stains my lips, in the eyes of the weary-a quarter of my life is lost.

In their petty stares, a question mark hovers above their heads-why smoke? Why waste? Why?

In the burrows of my thought I say-why not? Their moral objectives cannot define what true health is.

I compromise one to satisfy the other. I compromise my health to satisfy my being.

It’s the sin of the smoker, the confession of the man behind the nicotine silhouette.

It’s like a bullet aimed at your head, every puff, every breath and the trigger is pulled.



It’s a luxury enjoyed by the many no matter what state of life they are in.

The crazy. The poor. The middleman. The executive.
The president. The boss. The retiree.

Although the minors are kept at an arm’s length away from such.
It’s sooner than later that they are going to join the bunch.

Society dictates what is wrong and what is right. And society is composed of you and I.

You and I. You smoke. I smoke. Let it be that way.

In our deathbed, the only smoke we’ll see is either coming down from heaven or rising up from hell.

Until that day, smoke and live. Cheers my friend.

Let’s us have a good day.

Dawn's Delight

With the tune of Cat Steven's Morning Has Broken,
phantomly playing in my head

I stretch my arms, wipe my eyes, and gently get out of bed

Unloading the baggage from my urinary track

Still feels sleepy so I bend my back

Calm dusk, cold breeze-what a great ambiance

A cup of coffee, perfect-just perfect-I love the fragrance

As I stand outside the door,
watching birds skim on the clouds-like a surfer on the shore

Sipping hot on my drink, I could not ask for more


Rhythm of the day. I could feel the good vibe

God blessing me with a little rain shower,
some sunshine, and a rainbow on the side

Sure, trouble comes, randomly-from the left and right

but I don't care, life's like that, this is my dawn's delight

Three Open Chairs

Once, the circle was full

Each corner mastered by their own character

Four closed chairs, was all there is

Every session filled with smiles, with her's and his

In the circle-sometimes used to share sticks, sometimes drinks
but often times both

Filled with crazy ideas, shared with a bucket of horse

But time has it, the chairs started to rack

One chose a mistake, the second was a snake
and the other one started to pack

Each one went about to the path's that they've made

Like the incense in a vase, each one disappeared

And as the last one sit, sips, and stares

In the mind saying, "CHEERS AND GOD SPEED!" to the people
that once sat, on the three open chairs

Coffee Table Top

As we sit down on our spot

Waiting for our coffee order on the dot

My mind starts walking on a thought

My mouth opens and starts to talk

Healthy conversations makes our souls whole

That delights our hearts-no matter how shallow

The scent of caffeine soothes our taste

Makes us comfortable, and as I look at you, I'm amazed...

You make simple words flow like river rain

Filtered by your lips, with no single sign in vain

Oh, the wonders that happen on our coffee table top

It's amazing how this little thing, for a moment, makes our time stop.

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