Thursday 12 November 2009

Dream Crusher

A cracked ceramic cup,
Leaking trickles of tea,
A splintered chip of wood,
Dug into layers skin deep,
A fractured rock,
Split into two,
A mirror shattered,
Reflections in slivers,
A page in tatters,
Words lost to cuts,
A broken wing,
Flight deferred,
A dream crushed,
Life’s labour lost.

Wanton Dreams

Dreams like stray feathers,
Line the window sill,
Drifting with the wafts,
Flying by the wind,
Waiting to drop down,
Softly kissing the ground,
Unbroken, yet incomplete,
Unfulfilled and wanton…

Beauty and Love

Manifestations of beauty and love

The book I just finished reading was beautiful, The Bonesetter’s Daughter by Amy Tan. There is something I read, that captured my imagination and it was the four manifestations of beauty. With any form of beauty, there are associated abilities.
The first one was competence, the ability to maintain a sense of balance, the same rhythm, the same truth the same charm.

The second was magnificence, this went beyond just skill and its simplicity making it unique, yet magnificent, the beauty of the small, the simple.

The third was divine, the aura of a suggestion rather than a proclamation of what is, an absent object identifiable just because it was missing.

The fourth, beyond even the divine was effortlessness, the ability to fathom natural wonder, a beauty of everything being effortless, a light weightless floating feeling, like a magic carpet beneath the feet.

This made me wonder if it was the beauty of love it spoke about, its manifestation and existence. Just pure bliss and serenity of competence, magnificence, divinity and effortlessness, the four axis’ of love across time and space.

Wednesday 11 November 2009

A Flickering Flare

Is it a flare or flicker? I am still in introspection. Is it the sparkle of a genius or just a passing spark that talent has bestowed? It is there for sure, but in phases, fleeting and transient. Flair, talent, skill, genius so close yet so far apart. I wonder if it’s there somewhere in the corners of the mind, lurking, waiting and biding its time to appear or reappear as in this case maybe.

There are days of dejection, disillusionment and days of absolute nonchalance and discomfiture. I wish the flicker or flare of genius would happen ever so often like a lasting light of some impression to me if not otherwise.

There are thoughts and hopes and fears and there is reality of it all, stemming yet nipping, the constant cycle of strength over lack of confidence and the reassurance that reality alters priority. Who cares? All I need is for it to light up and last in flames not go up in a cloud or fit of blue smoke, Pooufff! Just so easily like that, no way, I will make it last and work it like the coal and embers and then refuel and refill to the lasting day.

My flaming genius that flickers, you shall last and be remembered and reminisced, if I can I will and I must and should.