I woke up today with tears hanging from my eyelids,

Shifting from dream dimensions,

Waiting for reality’s physics to freefall.

The morning ceremony turns a deeper hue,

As Xenia Rubinos penetrates the aesthetic corners of my mind

And shows me what true beauty is.

The tears have situated to this atmosphere again,
so they fall without question.

What I would do to translate these bulbous flower emotions

Into concert instrumentation.


The joy of creation is more than I can handle.

With a single note, my soul’s towering canopy fortresses are disarmed,

Exposed nucleus at the center of a swirling petal dance universe.


Fatherhood has been a part of me since I first gave birth to my Anniversary.

Pride has been long and distant, sheathed underneath my paternal motor which

Sows creative oats with insatiable hunger for more.

That voice too, becomes hushed by Xenia.

Nothing but blissful tears remain, overwhelming me in the only love I could ever hope to live for.

A creator’s love.


I can feel the light of my unborn child’s eyes seeing my future soul.

The very thought of the grand collaboration,

Masterpiece of my life looking back at me the way I wished poetry could-

The thought alone comes closeto convincing my synapses and fibers

To entirely fall apart.

Creation is one of the most sacred duties a human can have.

Creationism, a term giving pervert life to the closed darkness of blind souls

Refusing to leave their cave of parables-

The term needs to be redefined to justify such a beautiful root verb.


Every loose creation is beautiful and capable of becoming a miracle.

Every amalgamate hopes to open its eyes to their parent’s love.

We owe such soul-singing love to every thought, writing, being

That we put onto this earth.

The moment a creation believes it is ugly is the moment it dies,

And my heart simply can’t take the kind of ignorance that convinces that thought.


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