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.
Thursday, 12 November 2009
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…
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Fleeting!
Swoosh said the wind,
Hark said the sea,
Fly on little bird,
Off and away,
Into the blue blue skies,
Away from fleeting time,
Away from dark days,
To peace and to calm.
Hark said the sea,
Fly on little bird,
Off and away,
Into the blue blue skies,
Away from fleeting time,
Away from dark days,
To peace and to calm.
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
A Ticking Time Bomb
I didn’t notice the change,
The shadow of pain as it lingered,
I smiled yet again attempting to feign,
A fake happiness pretending,
That life is a ball game and I won.
What is loss or gain I wonder,
Everything is now a dull grey,
The smiles are watery strands,
Of a sorrow running deep,
Blocked in its path and stoppered.
I laugh some more now mocking,
The twists and turns that surface,
I like a time bomb ticking,
Wait for the next big hit,
They come crashing down at once.
Ready for the kill they descend,
Back to back ceaselessly they fall,
They drain me slowly of my strength,
My anger they use to hurt me more,
Watching in glee as I lose yet again.
The shadow of pain as it lingered,
I smiled yet again attempting to feign,
A fake happiness pretending,
That life is a ball game and I won.
What is loss or gain I wonder,
Everything is now a dull grey,
The smiles are watery strands,
Of a sorrow running deep,
Blocked in its path and stoppered.
I laugh some more now mocking,
The twists and turns that surface,
I like a time bomb ticking,
Wait for the next big hit,
They come crashing down at once.
Ready for the kill they descend,
Back to back ceaselessly they fall,
They drain me slowly of my strength,
My anger they use to hurt me more,
Watching in glee as I lose yet again.
Thursday, 17 September 2009
Wallows!
One wonders about the ways of the mind. The crazy creation of thoughts. The emotions that flow. There are things you say and things you don't, not even to yourself. This is a make believe world of fake reality. There is nothing good or bad about it, it just plain sucks and I am tired of playing games and asking trick questions. I want some solitude if I can't get what I want.
There is a sense of hopelessness and a cynical irony to the feeling. An indescribable angst that just makes the wallowing in self pity so much cooler.
There is a sense of hopelessness and a cynical irony to the feeling. An indescribable angst that just makes the wallowing in self pity so much cooler.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Waiting for a Shadow
I am standing,
Precariously perched on the edge,
Ready for the jump,
That will land me,
In the midst of cotton fluff,
Fields of softness and blues.
I slip down the precipice,
To descend into a bliss,
Of unheard of happiness,
That seeks to please,
Complimenting the calm of my world.
There are no boundaries,
No wasted souls in my worlds,
Peerless laughter is all that rings,
In the dense beauty of a paradise,
Created to draw the lines of love.
I sit there in the midst of my colours,
That have painted the walls of a castle,
Waiting and watching for a certain shadow,
To dance in the waters of my stream,
To blend into a unison with me and my world.
Precariously perched on the edge,
Ready for the jump,
That will land me,
In the midst of cotton fluff,
Fields of softness and blues.
I slip down the precipice,
To descend into a bliss,
Of unheard of happiness,
That seeks to please,
Complimenting the calm of my world.
There are no boundaries,
No wasted souls in my worlds,
Peerless laughter is all that rings,
In the dense beauty of a paradise,
Created to draw the lines of love.
I sit there in the midst of my colours,
That have painted the walls of a castle,
Waiting and watching for a certain shadow,
To dance in the waters of my stream,
To blend into a unison with me and my world.
Sunday, 13 September 2009
Wonder Blues
Wasted in transit,
I am sitting on a bench,
Drying my tears,
In the blowing wind,
My head heavy, i droop.
The dampness of being,
Engulfs my soul,
Drawing me into depths,
Into unknown hollows,
Wrapped in time.
I thought it could be so,
Or rather that it would,
But the morning,
Is no longer the same,
And the night too cold.
I yearn for some warmth,
I lost a while ago,
So i sit here alone,
Sighing with the wind,
Hoping to find a better day.
I am sitting on a bench,
Drying my tears,
In the blowing wind,
My head heavy, i droop.
The dampness of being,
Engulfs my soul,
Drawing me into depths,
Into unknown hollows,
Wrapped in time.
I thought it could be so,
Or rather that it would,
But the morning,
Is no longer the same,
And the night too cold.
I yearn for some warmth,
I lost a while ago,
So i sit here alone,
Sighing with the wind,
Hoping to find a better day.
Friday, 11 September 2009
Wanders
Lost in my own darkness,
I wander fumbling,
Through winding corridors,
Gazing into emptiness…
The walls echoing,
With my empty thoughts,
Bouncing off as echoes,
Hollow and empty in their screams…
Hollering and ranting,
I run amok and astray,
Fleeing inner demons
Desperately trying to find my way…
Stumbling I reach some light,
At the far end of darkness,
I reach out to it and tug myself up,
Back into reality and back in time…
I wander fumbling,
Through winding corridors,
Gazing into emptiness…
The walls echoing,
With my empty thoughts,
Bouncing off as echoes,
Hollow and empty in their screams…
Hollering and ranting,
I run amok and astray,
Fleeing inner demons
Desperately trying to find my way…
Stumbling I reach some light,
At the far end of darkness,
I reach out to it and tug myself up,
Back into reality and back in time…
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