enjoying unbound freedom, innate to Self
presence invokes the power of pure intent
whence the one becomes two and then one again
in a playful game of descent and ascent
that God’s love and light breath by breath we ingrain
You think you are strong,
That you have control over yourself,
But then, events lay their violent hands on you,
And all your strengths get shattered into pieces
Like a glass hitting a rock
Your eyes betray you
Tears start rolling down your face
Your voice begins to tremble
Your heart lowers its music
Reasons, justifications, excuses you give
Weak, unworthy, and lonely you feel
Your heart screams, your lips narrate it to them
Nothing wrong have you done
Your discourse dose have weight
But they don’t care…
It all seems a drama to them,
Or just a natural penance!
They too, deep down, might feel bad
But they show it not,
Will expressing their love make them weak ?
Or listening to your heart will make them lose?
So, as usual, they wrap another layer of anger over love
Instead of saying “it’s okay”, they yell
And you feel like a bird, broken, lying in a cage
And if you dare to respond back
It will take the argument to yet another level
Nothing will be left
Nothing, without regrets and sorrows
Is this life too long to love or to live happily?
Do we have to make it hell to live it??
(paghunda)
In a circus , who provides you a lot of fun ,
He is no one other than a clown .
Though he is sad ,
He makes every one laughing mad .
He can also perform some feats ,
And make everyone sit on the edge of their seats .
Concealing his real face ,
A happy mask he wears .
To make the audience laughing mad ,
He had to control his feeling sad .
That's the reason why I adore the only one ,
He is no one other than a clown .
Concealing Silver Linings
Peaceful Painter:
With paintbrush in hand she leaned forward to paint the moon black
Exposing cold shoulders to an outcome abstract
To her dismay the light around the edges could not be concealed
For a light in the darkness cannot NOT be revealed
Darkness is as consuming as a hand that is sleight
Yet we can go blind by staring into the light
Chaos Ensues:
Running from the chaos that was happening in town
She kept tripping on the lies that were laying around
Landing on hypocrisies blanketing the ground
Surrounded by demons holding her down
Weather perpetually pushed or reluctantly hurled
She ran right off the edge of the world
He stares in the mirror,
Watching his face change,
Not knowing who he is anymore,
Betrayed by everyone,
That he believed once cared for him.
He feels like a beast inside,
Past shrouded in mystery,
Details of his future yet unknown,
Trying to avoid his past mistakes,
And in the end,
He ultimately fails miserably.
The fear in his eyes stare back at him,
Feeling the violent urges burning,
Like a viscous torrent of fire,
Wanting to scorch, the existence of life,
And all of those forgotten sins.
A face hidden beneath a dark mask,
Of lost inhibitions,
Dark desires of endearment,
Plagued by the very heart,
That once felt passion for another.
His mind wanders through time and space,
Never quite knowing a place to call home,
A place to survive from the storm,
Or even the beat of all those lonely hearts,
When the suns warmth,
Brushes his cold cheeks.
He's stained from the wounds,
That scar more than just his flesh,
Rigid ones that dwell within his being,
And now he stands before the mirror,
Concealing the past.
It’s happening again.
Red-hot Guerrillas breaching my porcelain surface,
Angry little bombs exploding, leaving
my land a red war zone,
And I can’t find Concealer,
who has gone A.W.O.L, deserted its place in line,
after Foundation, before Powder.
I send Hands to search the recesses of my desk,
the scattered costumes on my floor.
Their time bombs tick
And I need Concealer for this daily battle.
After the red formations attack my foundations,
they battle against Powder,
forcing my team back to expose my land;
blemished, riddled with unwanted lumps.
A wasteland uncovered,
and Concealer my only defence able to
hide the scars, the age, this weakness.
I send on the second wave;
Foundations, Powder, Mascara – all charades to
distract the public from my flaws.
Reluctantly I slither out into their gaze,
Exposed,
praying my cover hides what the
snarling, ruthless army
strives to conquer: to
Unmask what I truly am.
.
keeper of secrets
intimate memoirs grinning
visceral hope chest
.
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