Beauty….

Today, I sign up in beauty…..

The beauty of Gold over soil,

The beauty of sky hugging the trees,

The beauty of Birds, that extract all my tensions, by flapping their wings, in peaceful air,

The beauty of Sun, when it kisses the soil,

The beauty of Giving Life, with no desires,

THAT BEAUTY…..

THAT BEAUTY…..

But,

We find beauty in such beautiful statues, who is temporary…

Who Inhale or Exhale…

Who broke by words…

Who like you, but not love you…

THAT BEAUTY…..

THAT BEAUTY…..

But,

The beauty is that,

Which lies in the words of William Wordsworth…



The beauty, which lies in taking care of life…

The beauty…..

which lies in the relationship of Earth with its beauty…

The beauty, which lies in words, that flow with the streams of water…

THAT BEAUTY…..

THAT BEAUTY…..

The beauty, that we neglect…

The beauty, that we forget…

The beauty, that we deny…

The beauty, that is on Calenders now…

THAT BEAUTY…..

THAT BEAUTY…..

But, today…

The beauty is called a STATE…

The state which followed by, commas and plosives…

THAT BEAUTY…..

THAT BEAUTY…..

” THE BEAUTY IS A SYMMETRY, ORDER AND DISCIPLINE”.


Journey from Father to become Dad…..


In hairy lifted characters of skin
responsible shoulders lead hands to manage my pin,

You founded my heart roar from organ
tired fated hand over my covered slogan,

Overyjoyed by listening my first crooked voice
no words for sounds 'cause you became my mike,

Teacher of physics lead me how to fly
first over his hands, then in life's plight,

The trusted feeder, with no prime literature
managed tears realise me, patience of no crux,

Weak just a word of unkown dictionary
your eyes and hands never taught me how to kneel...

Breathe to be hold…..

Life is like a closed elevator, it keeps trying to close us from all sides. But all of us can hope to break these wall, only from ourselves. And if you have the courage to have this hope, then be it life or lift, nothing can confine you.


Stop being afriad, every man's fear is hidden in his past, and fear keeps pulling you back into the past.Once you get trapped in your past, then you will never be able to get out of it. Go beyond your lumits. Become limitless. You can do it.

Only you must have the right to limit yourself, not anyone else. It doesn’t matter if it is a memory, or a pain, or even love. It could be even hate.

“The day when you will understand this, you ‘ll be free from all the bonds”.

Message from light to color of life..


Color is life, because a world without color is dead. "Fire produce light, light produce colors. The tone gives the color a language, colors gives the sound body, from the spirit.

All colors are friends to next colors, and lovers of opposite colors.

Colors cann't have too much craftsmanship, they should come from nature.I don't like dead names on the color card.

I prefer to call them 'Romentic Purple', or 'Playful Pink'.

Blessed by the Sun we live in colorful world everyday, and feel the color transformation of the four seasons.

Human can recognize 5 million
to 10 million colors, but only One thousand and two hundred of them have names.
Some of the colors are lonely, some sparkling, some sad, and some warm. Although the colors are not beautiful, the world with colors is gorgeous.

" Every flower when cut off from the brench, at that moment, the life has confirmed it, would stay in vase to bloom the last beauty, the death comes to them. However, some flowers do not agree to go with destiny, when the flower fades there would be new blooms. The life without regrets is not perfect. We come to the world, not for become a pure and perfect angle, we are here to experience hard life, including sad, happy, gather, nd departure. Though flower is beautiful the strong tiny life make, life brighter".

A Painting on The Wall…..


On the land of pureness

I found world with cureness,

Some to this and some to that

initiate leaves with no stamp,

Everyone sings their madness in pain

I discover blood of no frame,

Nothing was evil, nothing was flawless

I realized divine was clawless,

Even no concept of trait and territory

unsertained with no elements of duality,

No trees of subject they write on

because I found no minister, they upon..

Flying back to my Street…..





Don’t tell anybody, I’m on my way.


Back to my life, my smile

from formal back to informal,

Previous to my mistakes

from cabbage stamp to flying slippers,

Flash of my breakfast

from words like 'bitch' to the words in starter 'idiot',

Memories of my bitter yougert

from naked feets to random fits,

Revising my chapters of unsolicited life

from fantasy of hearts to illusion of behavior,

These evocations and time are like sand

feels like in no time I'm on land..