Category Archives: Poetry

The enchanted world of fairytales


I love fairytales. In fact, I love anything written that had a sting to it. I’ve always loved it. As a kid, I borrowed scary books at the library, read them at the dead of night and was doing quite a lot of running from monsters in my sleep.

Some fairytales are more scary than others. Disney’s rendering of fairytales is not canon fairytales. They are the polished fluffy-pink-unicorn-version of fairytales.

Real fairytales have a certain seriousness and edge to them. Probably because they’re meant to be educational at some level.

I’ve been reading this book of fairytales from different parts of the world, and I came across a poem (or whatever you will call it) I had sort of forgotten. I don’t think it is political correct today. It might frighten children to eat their soup. And we all know that’s bad, don’t we?


When did children become so sensitive?


No mirrors allowed

Avoiding the mirrors
Not wanting to see
The pain is hidden
But not deep enough
The eyes
The deceiving eyes
And the raw heart

All alone, standing tall

Broadleaf plantain

Lamb’s quarters


Dooryard Dock

And plenty of grass

Weed everywhere.

And one single ray of sunshine.

Out of nowhere

The sunflower


Far from the city,

in the deepest part of the oak forest.

Under a small root,

down the rabbit hole.

A plain lead box,

with a padlock

and no key.

It’s safe.

Never to be opened.

I think…

The pain

He saw the world in a grain of sand

He felt the heavy rain

In a blink he saw the promised land,

before he felt the pain


The pain so strong,

he couldn’t take it

Had he gone wrong?

He’d better quit


Much pain

No gain

And yet

It wasn’t all in vain


The tiniest ray of hope

was just enough

He knew

He would cope



Crying without tears
Darkness within
Hidden scars
Open wounds

Smiling facade
Laughing out loud
Nobody will ever know
The play is still on
Until the bitter end

Happy, happy Towel Day!

Happy, happy Towel Day!
Water, sweat will go away
When you hear the Hiker’s say
“It’s Happy Towel Day!”

Happy, happy Towel Day
Let’s all sleep the Hiker way
View Santraginus’ sandy bay
On happy Towel Day!


When did it stop?

I can’t remember

I can’t recall

Did I lose it?

Or did I throw it?

I can’t feel anything

Or hear

No joy

No fear

Only silence

The outcast

In a world of sparrows

A bit shy

A bit different

But not so much

Hangs out in the sun

Prefers the night

Flies with the others

Eats with the others

Sits a bit different

Sounds a bit different

No feathers

The only bat in the park

Stars Above

Just because it’s one of the nicest songs I’ve ever heard.

And it’s friday, and my brain is num and needs relaxation.


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