Digital drawing, doodle, Line art, noodling, poetry

NmV #00.a1

Mighty love,

mighty love.

You have took of my lustful past,

gave me enough strength to push past everything.

Mighty love,

Mighty love.

You are not profound to me,

you told me I can have wings only if I let go of so many

summers of my youth,

smears of a gust of a wind in all of the autumn breeze.

Then fade away into a dreary winter’s day.

Mighty love,

mighty love.

I read upon a book which houses a promise,

A potential purpose that has no bearing 

on possession, material gain, wanton lust.

Only that it points to:

It can be misled, misdirected and mal-informed.

This one though speaks of you,

Mighty love,

a force of life,

a force of human devotion,

a force that guides a real gift to us all.


I know what’s your intention all along,

I will not say,

I will comprehend,

I will understand,

To know the unknown of one’s own.





abstract, Digital drawing, doodle, Emotional warfare, free verse, Life, Line art, noodling, poetry, relationships

Pw3te .b1.ei

I want to feel the bruises,

Of a lining and suture of the scar

upon the beige of a skin.

I need to hear your feet at the sound of my voice,

While you trample me with your poetic heart,

Always will and stops lying to me of your intent to my my content.

Sure we can be happy with our lies, 

deceptive, and mischievous ways

and call it life.

Who really is blind here,

my eye which never hears,

your lips that cries all of your kisses;

Of the love we say we do,

in a sense that our hands has no clue.





Digital drawing, doodle, free verse, Line art, noodling, poetry


What gift is this,

that I can not see only to have at my disposal,

each time I reach for a pencil, pen, stylus.

Where did it come from,

To what honor I get all of it,

All those years of reading, writing and drawing of so many things.

Whom do I owe it to,

Teachers of old,

the unknown people who tirelessly doesn’t give up so easily,

the ones who keeps pushing your capabilities to the extreme potential.

When a gift demands a gift,

It seems to be,

the gift that I offer is none other of my failure into a success,

So others can be shown, they may have a gift of their own.





Digital drawing, doodle, Life, Line art, poetry

Pho-m :3

A temporary pain is my complaint.

A permanent scar that bled on this face jars.

What then If death came and left all those who never missed me,

loved me after I have gone.

One truth remain.

For if they knew me, they will love me forever in their memory.

For if they judged me, they will not remember coz in their hatred for me,

at least they can remember how much I tried to love them the same.





Digital drawing, doodle, Line art, poetry

Pho-m :12

Free this soul. . .

Of the past,

Of the current affliction,

Of the love of the mistake.

I will feel what freedom is,

I will see what freedom brings,

When all my senses is not there anymore,

Then only when freedom bleeds at the core of my feet,

After walking a 10 mile journey from heart to the heaven of nirvana.





Digital drawing, doodle, Life, Line art, Personal, poetry, reflective

NmV #00.a3

I found an old pen,

I tried writing with it,

It found my heart.

My love flowed from its ink.

My heart knew what my mind couldn’t see.

With all of its ink dried.

What I read out,

The words were not mine,

It said,

 “Love again,

But not people,

Love again,

Not a person.

Love again,

Not yourself.

Love again,

Only the one you know.

Love your own better self,

Love the bitterness of self,

Only then to enjoy what love means,

Only then to love everything and everyone.”