People used to tell me about your
arrogance, and how I should look
for better friends. Little did
they know. I was aware
of the mask, they saw,
and that you were
insecure
just like
me.
They say, 'a rising tide floats all boats'
But what about the broken ones
that sit rotting on the ground
with large holes in the hull
shattered on life's cliffs?
A reminder
to look out
for what
lies.
There is no rhyme or reason to it.
Every time she enters the room
he cannot take his eyes off
the beauty that he sees
in her entire
beingness. Her
light so bright,
so clear,
so...
I scratch my head over people who
only ever scratch the surface
to heal what festers deep down
inside their minds and hearts
We are being told
It's just a scratch
And then we
believe
it
It
begins -
a story,
no matter which,
it always begins
with an idea of what
we want to see in our world
or one of whom we want to be.
What matters is: Do we walk the talk?
You shroud yourself in silence, wear it
like a coat to protect you from
all that is life. The shadows,
yes, but also the light,
most importantly,
from feeling, but
that includes
feeling
love.
It might be stupid of me to stay
maybe my life would be better
if I left. Or maybe I
would eternally ask
myself: What if? What
if we had made
it through the
bad times?
What?
In younger years, I did not pick up
on the fact that I listened to
the soundtrack of my future
Only in retrospect
I realised it
Was it foretold
or did I
write the
story
You call me selfish because I take
care of myself first, and not you
But who is really selfish
The one caring for self
or the one who claims
the other should
be doing
it for
them
You tell a story about yourself
repetitive like a mantra
to the world in steady words
hoping it becomes real
But the truth of heart
doesn't need words
reason or
rhyme to
shine
I face, and embrace the searing pain
take courage, despite - beyond fear
I let my heart break ... open
allow those tears to fall
absorb the impact
take its power
alchemise
and find
love
Steer
steady
through the waves
You're good at this
I thought, I could learn
navigation from you
But I can't do like you do
I have to jump in the water
and find my way to tackle the waves
I'm sure you are capable of love
I have it in me, after all
And I also have in me
the empathy you lack
care I didn't get
I'm sure you are
able to
somehow
love
I free myself from conformities
let go of rebellion as well
drop inherited beliefs
and family heirlooms
dissolve old patterns
so I can walk
unburdened
in all
truth
Last golden rays reach through heart-shaped leaves
they sway, moved by evening's breeze
their sweet whisper make believe
the fairies lullaby
with each closing eye
calms How and Why
Tonight I
will dream
sweet
As thunder rolls, and lightning flashes
and rain cools down the blazing air
As clouds curtain flaring Sun
and wind waves a goodbye
Golden hearts tumble
by my window
and Summer's
coda
fades
I am leaning on your sturdy trunk,
sheltered by your still verdant top,
rooting into the mother
with you, dear Sister Tree.
Soon your leaves will turn
colour, and fall,
when branches
still hold
me.
What if love is not only made of
the you, and me, the here, and there,
of the dark, and light, the now,
and then, the high, and low,
the ebb, and the flow,
the all there is,
but of the
between
too
A crescendo of shoulds, and shouldn'ts
of other folks' moral ideas,
of limits that they couldn't
think beyond, trapped in fear.
“Diminuendo!”
I call, and play
down my tune,
at ease.
Peace.
Change is the only consistency
no matter how hard we hold on
a universe of constant
motion from chaos to
structure to chaos
transitory
emotions
floating
by
Life's harmony is not only made
of the beautiful sounding notes
There is dissonance as well
building intense verses
on occasion to
relieve tension
into bliss
A heart
sings
When I look in the mirror I see
the shape of my grandfather's lips
the blue of my mother's eyes
the hair my father gave
or so people say
Invisible
to them are
countless
scars
The way I talk is not the issue.
Your violence, it is your own.
It is not the way I act,
or how I smile too much
that makes you angry.
It is how you
view yourself,
and not
me.
Her
face a
chronicle
of life, each line
a memory held
dear, so dear to her heart
Around her eyes lies a smile
that lights all smiles she ever smiled
a multitude of lights ignited
No
I won't
wish for things
to be like they
once were, even if
this means I wear the scars
of painful experience
for this experience made me
who I am at this very moment