Vague is never in Vogue

To men and women, there is no science

No maps to reach the destination.

But there are tips and tricks to every game

No chemical formula or math equation.

Casually throw in a few fancy words.

Say 'ombre' when you're thinking 'mix'.

Seconding her every 'maybe' and 'anything'

Will seldom hit it off with the chicks.

'Blue' is 'Turquoise', 'Pink' is 'Fuschia'

Put every Pantone expert to shame.

Cardinal rule and Bible Truth be told

'Brown' and 'Burgundy' - never the same.

Brownie points you'll earn aplenty

Even if you sound like a fashionista gone rogue.

Remember, dear men, with the ladies

Vague is never in vogue.

Overseas Poetic Inspiration

Sepolion, Athens
Wednesday May 11, 2016
16:17 hrs.

The family has had a fight. Over some planning. Two bedroom apartment has come in handy. Everyone has retired to a room each, while I am left to the comfort of winter, winds and wine. Hence the poetic wisdom.

This is a note to self: Never fight with travel partners on a trip, especially when you'd like to travel with them again. More time is spent squabbling and sulking, than on solving and savouring. Part of what will make you a great travel companion is seldom your ability to control, but more your willingness to compromise. Speedbumps are bound to be there. 
But above all, never forget, that it's a HOLIDAY for EVERYONE involved. 
Embrace the tricky, live the risky, and when having a fit, drink your whisky.

• The Haiku Project • Day 19 •

• The Haiku Project • Day 19 •

Muscle Memory

• The Haiku Project • Day 18 •

• The Haiku Project • Day 18 •

It's raining passionate love

and poetry.

Weep

• The Haiku Project • Day 17 •

• The Haiku Project • Day 17 •

Hope. 

That's all.

Wandering, wondering

When the mind wanders too far away,

and the brain cannot catch up.

• The Haiku Project • Day 16 •

• The Haiku Project • Day 16 •

Poetry in Purple

• The Haiku Project • Day 15 •

• The Haiku Project • Day 15 •

There are melodies waiting to be written,

And maladies yearning to be bitten. 

• The Haiku Project • Day 14 •

• The Haiku Project • Day 14 •

I couldn't even tell

When you lifted the spell. 

Tea-ribble

Really, dear Trainee

How hard can it be

To master the art of brewing

The perfect little cuppa tea.

Here's an idiot-proof key:

Spoons two, then steep for three

Why, still, then does this concoction taste

Like something gassy monsters set free?

You may sing me a symphony

Or even take a knee

But if you mix it up all wrong

You ain't worth a penny.

Before you call me an itch with a B

Or a real ain with a P

Hold your horses coz I'm just getting started

On that tragic mess you call  coffee.

I can't give you my heart

I can't give you my heart

So I give you my body instead

Minus heart

And you give me yours

Strictly no beating heart

Like two robots

Locked in an electric circuit

But something happened

We deciphered a secret language

Machines turned magical

Sparks flew, fuse blew

I think we blew it.

We switched off.

Retired to rust.

Moving closer to dust.

Our hearts beating somewhere

Outside of our bodies

Under lock and key.

Orphaned, Abject

Searching for purpose.

But now we're reduced

To pieces of metal

Cold and grey.

To be burnt or buried.

I still can't give you my heart

Because the moment
Has passed.
And so have we.