April

SEARCHING FOR A BLANKET

When we’re not jumping all around
We don’t feel so proud deep inside
When we’re not smiling in disguise
We’re mostly crying in the house
When we’re not glamorously dressed
We’re feeling naked in our heads.

Who’s unruffled by comfort and the pleasures it brings?
Who’s not afraid of the doubts failure sheds?
Who doesn’t question their worth?
Thinking they have no meaning
Who doesn’t search for a blanket to cover the shame?
Unsure of the duties life places on us.

When we’re not bragging loud
We are bare of confidence
When we’re not partying out
We are locked up in the closet
When we’re not up and down
We are swallowed by our shells.

Advertisements
April

BURNING THE ROOTS OF FANTASY

Who does reality leave less than puzzled
Does Plato’s theme not disturb your thoughts?
That our rich wild world is one of appearance
And world of forms is saved for the mind.

Were our frames fashioned for frivolities
Leaving us destitute of diamonds
In whose purse were our dreams stored
Or were they less than Joseph’s dreams?

What happened to having vivid visions?
What happened to wanting to save the world?
What happened to the childhood dreams
Of living in a castle with prince charming?

What happened to finding light at the end of the tunnel?
What happened to waking up on the right side of the bed?
What happened to becoming the world’s champion?
What happened to soaring on eagles’ wings?

What happened to being untouchable?
What happened to planting gardens and fields?
What happened to happily ever after?
What happened to not waiting for forever?

Socrates taught interrogation
And my soul has made a decision
To never undermine reality
By burning the roots of fantasy.

April

GREEN GONE GRAY

___ measure your love for your mother_ _ Sarasota Zen Meditation Society.jpg‘Your baby is premature’
That’s what the doctor said.
What ignites this hell and torture
Or has pain no perfect end?
Shall new pastures never flourish long
Or must man’s sworn enemy ever win?

Conception was as beautiful as dawn
Carrying with it glitters of affection
Dropping on every heart a flicker
Of something far greater than morn
The drive through the park
The music played to the unborn
The soft cuddles and caresses
Of the little one with the feeble heart.

The late night walks and dances
And the promise of a new life
Different from the old and usual
Draped with longings and wishes
The reckless love for luxuries
And the emblem of midnight praise.

Is this how days stop halfway?
Is this how green glories sail astray?
Do houses have to fall and crumble?
Must fires always raze down new fields?
The doctor didn’t see his words spark
He never saw the wild flames flash
Tearing into your sickening soul
As he heralded the news of your loss.

April

AVID NEGLECT OF TODAY

We spin and spin till we lose our fill
The skies decide to bestow the rains
Though questions tagged to yesterday
Don’t always have the best of says
The shadows over the little house
Soon shuts out all illusion of light
And mindlessly we faint at ease
Forgetting pleasure heals
Take out today and mix it with purity
Laughter unhindered, love undefined
Take out today to heal your soul
From every bitter disappointment
Is today not better than a future in design?
Can you decide tomorrow and give it wings
To take you on the flight to ever-land
And abandon every vain thing
There’s more to hear than baseless melody
For if today is stolen, how rich will you be?

April

IN HARMONY WITH TIME

black-and-white-girl-writing-dream-on-wall_jpg Facebook Covers Black ___.jpgOld friend, I read your biography
Your words were succinct and real
And your inked imagery played well
Like daring dew on leaves’ end.

You talked about anxious ageing
Losing your hold on your youth
Parting too quickly and drying daily
As if there were no more life to use.

You described your betrayed bones
How they sullenly screech and fold
The way they bend without a bell
And how they many times you fell.

Your words painted your unhappiness
Careful to not be careless and faithless
For the end of the early mornings
Was only a meagre mansion in the evenings.

In your last lines you drew a circle
Though to me it was a circular cycle
Showing how you lived your little life
So breathtakingly in harmony with time.

April

THE WRONG JOLT OF CONVENIENCE

It’s indescribable, undefinable
But it’s something, that gut feeling
It spells disaster fashioned as doom
But it’s too scared to stand through
In the middle of truth, lies scream
Shouting in a voice so unclear
That the audience hear only echoes
And see nothing of the noise that slips.

There are too many uncertainties
Right in the middle of trivialities
That say hello from no side
Only waiting till it’s twilight
And they can jump out like ghosts
Too long hidden in the cupboard
But set to make the grand entrance
Before death rings the bell for slumber.

Except this is just some invincible joke
That treads your mind’s walkway
Looking for some coins to steal
Or maybe even all the peace
Except this is only suicidal in and out
Some prank to break the neocortex
And set the amygdala in motion
To begin a flight with no destination.

April

CRANKY YELLS

Dig Deeper_ Kneeling

My transgressions stand before me
Guilty before your presence of wrath
They scream my name silently
Reminding me of my own yelling
You never forgive them their errors
Trespasses and iniquities
Ever raging for hell and its demons
They stare at fire unbridled
Do not give us bread today
For it may be death in disguise
However we plead mercy undeserved
Since our feet are keen to stray
Pardon our recklessness and folly
We remain children without memory
Quick to play in the mud and dirt
And often too swallowed by filth
Unconsciously we turn to the left
Forgetting the path that leads to life
We soon forsake our pure purpose
And delve into the depth of denial
We yell even in our gentle voices
Unaware that our words slay many
Tearing through hearts and skins
And ruining laughter and love
In our careless chase for honour
We fall short of your pleasure
Sounding too loud for your space
I remember kneeling at your waist
Imagining you had the case of a cross
Looking through your sight
For signs of softness or sympathy
But it was all a mirage
A mindless design for absence
An impeccable drawing of fate
That consistently tosses me about
Without atoning for my sins
Or even daring to spill blood.