Life is often painted in black and white
nothing darker do I fear
than the stygian plight of death.
My malaise is carried with unbearable weight
remembering each waking moment when
I didn't say "thank you" or "I love you."
Self-reproach is a penance I can never fulfill
because the dreadful thief of death
took you from me in the ebon reach of night.
I'm sick of hearing the meaningless words,
"You're lucky to be alive. Life is beautiful."
My life is a beautiful lie now that you're gone.
I'd give my life to find a way to you.
An alabaster portal is locked to me,
a pitiable wretched sinner.
If I were to paint it black would there be a chance
it would be blind to see who asks entrance?
But my fear of death...
keeps me from reaching into the pale to find you.
I cower in shame.
Damn my trembling hand that quivers and shakes,
for the portal denies my entrance.
My mind is an unassailable weapon against my will.
It paints in oils that are always blurred with kohl
and the agony inside of me will never be consoled.
I didn't know all this time it was wrong
To have feelings so soon, so strong,
Until I lived through a chain sequence
Of swinging between lust and limerence.
I didn't know people would be so shallow
About matching with me: leaving me hollow.
I carried myself through every heartache,
I consoled myself each time in a new take.
I didn't know I was being innocently lead on,
With how each of them came and gone.
I sit alone in my room, wondering why,
Was it me or just because they were "shy?"
I didn't know how hard it is to find love,
How hard it is to pursue them without shove.
I'll always grieve my losses in romance,
But I know one day I'll have my chance.
More than a soft toy,
Is a childhood friend of mine,
He's been here for ten years,
Maybe even eleven,
Why do I feel such connection,
Towards you?
You've been in most of my memories,
Grown beside me,
Is that the reason why?
When i sang a song for the first time,
Or when you consoled me in the darkest nights,
Is it because, i shared my everything with you,
Even my childhood and heart?
Oh my dear lovely jaguar,
I still remember when I hugged you while sleeping,
On the day I got you when I was five,
I just want you to know,
I still do this now.
You're my snuggling partner,
My first friend,
And my whole childhood,
My dear friend.
My heart hurts
My soul is tired
Cant feel the earth
I’m uninspired
I’m on my own
I’m all alone
In the unknown
Turned into stone
Left in the cold
No hand to hold
I have no control
I can’t be consoled
I’m lost in the crowd
Where the silence is loud
And a dark purple cloud
Covers me in shrouds
I can no longer pretend
No, the blues never end
My heart’s on the floor
I can’t be happy anymore
Tears fall on my bed
My whole life’s in shreds
I’m hanging by a thread
Maybe I’ll feel better when I’m dead?
I cannot see the essence of thee,
Yet in thy deepest mystery lies reality.
Not with my eyes but with my heart I see,
Truth is inside of me.
The chaos of this illusionary life is blinding,
Yet still unwinding.
Within my inner solitude, I could be finding,
My authentic self is revealing, reminding.
All peace is in wholeness and unity,
Not in living as the illusionary me.
I need to change what others see,
Let my spirit truly be.
A spiritual observer in a physical state,
With unlimited powers to create.
To reveal your true self is Truth’s mandate,
Allowing harmony to escalate.
Just telling others what they want to be told,
It’s not your giving, they’re just being consoled.
Speak the truth, speak up, be bold.
Or the fate of our world will be darkness and cold.
Tumultuous time came unheralded
in my life that wandered in the wasteland.
When in the crushing clasp of suffering
my heart broke and writhed in pain,
I searched for the comfort of calm arms,
but found none to cling consoled.
Plunged in the stormy sea of agony,
I tried to swim through the dark night
to the safe shore afar not in sight.
I heard a voice from within tell me,
get detached from the delusive desire,
see hope dawn with the new sunrise.
My broken heart then grew wings,
flew free across the sunburst horizon
to the valley of blooming flowers,
where fragrance floated in spring air
under the cerulean serene sky,
that glistened on the grey of gloom.
In my tranquil mesmerized mind
the floral shower of beguiling bliss
drizzled with the cadence of ecstasy.
In the inner sanctum of sublime solitude
I sensed in the bud of essence the soul unfurls
piece by piece the petals of peace.
What happens when I don’t play my part?
When I stray from the script, and show you my heart?
Speaking a truth that’s too raw and too real.
No longer wearing a mask and too numb to feel?
This weight is now too heavy to hold,
Swallowing hurt while never consoled.
But nothing shifts, not really, not for me.
The blame, the silence, the judgement, the cold.
Who I am makes no difference, so why not be bold?
It took me awhile, but I finally see
Healing wasn’t for them, it was always for me.
No longer hollow, clinging to pain.
Years spent hating who I became.
And then light gave way and mended my soul.
I’m changed now. Softer, yet finally whole.
I was patient. I gave. I longed to belong.
What will they do, now that I'm gone?
I could keep pretending, just to be near.
But it's not really me that they welcome here.
I hoped for so long they’d eventually see,
The goodness and grace I share so freely.
Beauty was never meant to be hidden away,
Or, diminished so others could have all the say.
It may not be praised, or held with respect,
But worth is still worth, no matter what they accept.
the orphaned child gazed at the moon
consoled not by love from afar
he sat alone, holding a spoon
stark solitude was his soul’s scar
the lamp in the sky has its moods
the orphaned child gazed the moon
when it is pitch dark, his heart broods
callous too seems, the sun at noon
“if God’s real, grant me love’s boon
that tender touch of mother’s kiss”
the orphaned child gazed the moon
“get me out of this dark abyss”
choosing to take all life along
with God he began to commune
his spirit then sang a love song
the orphaned child gazed at the moon
"Good deeds are more important than good looks."
The proverb was first recorded by Chaucer in 'The Wife of Bath's Tale' (c. 1387)
You saw the beauty past her scars.
You looked inside her fragile soul.
You cared not for the angry wars.
You sought the good the battles stole.
You sang with angels through the stars.
You set compassion as your goal.
You took care when you consoled her.
Beautiful is the beholder.
The month of March has many moods;
its days are varied as she broods
which day is warm, which one is cold.
Tween Winter-Spring, she can be bold.
Some days she brings snow full and deep,
and others, like she's fast asleep;
with the warm sun, we are consoled.
Tween Winter-Spring, she can be bold.
She's stuck between two season's clime,
and so to each, she gives her time;
One fading soon, one to unfold.
Tween Winter-Spring, she can be bold.
So we are patient with her whims-
while Winter's ways she slowly trims,
till brand new April joins the fold.
Tween Winter-Spring, she can be bold.
News of wedding of girlfriend
made an abrupt end .
Lover got devastated drowning
in deep despondency
and in vain frowning
to his fate for this conspiracy.
His friend consoled’ "Be cool calm and steady.
It's not a miracle
to listen 'Uncle ‘
addressed by kids of your girlfriend : Get ready.
Hopefully she will stay happy,
healthy with her hubby .
Neither to repent
nor to lament.
Alternate affair : Try to manage.
Either love- marrige or arranged !
Hardly matters !
Don't get shattered :
After all, Life is a challenge !
One very fine day,
A mellisuga and a morpho
They were talking by the shore.
Suddenly morpho was trapped in a rope,
She asked for melli to lend a hand.
Melli lent her hands,
And morpho pushed through.
After much struggle
She pulled herself up,
But without melli's help,
Could she have done that?
I think the answer is yes,
But it would've made morpho press,
More deeper into the gland,
For it tested you, the land.
Morpho came back up,
Kept reminiscing the fall.
Melli consoled and consoled,
And morpho finally controlled.
Suddenly, the rope grabbed melli,
But when she asked morpho to lend a hand,
She still chittered her fall!
Melli was stuck,
Without a haul.
Melli cried, and cried
Her endless sufferings
Morpho didn't acknowledge,
and continued her whimpering.
In the silence of a summer thought,
Blessed by the quiet
Who is cold and distraught…
Grief steals the colors of sea and hope
Revealing gray hue
Broken hearts – can we cope?....
In the silence of a wind’s soft breath,
A million tears
Caressing what’s left after her death….
Sorrow chants of a longing, a yearning
Despair in the rain,
Pouring darkness, endlessly turning….
In the silence of autumn’s trembling heat,
Melancholic, shadow’s defeat
Blowing away the hesitant heartbeat….
Like love, who knows what it is to believe
She is gone now,
Her death a hard blow, how we grieve?...
In silence, the tears so softly flow
Remembering her, her light
Gentle and warm, her heart’s glow….
Where will we go when we want see
The song of her life,
Fading into the night – but, oh she’s free…
In the silence, singing like the birds
Soundless, still…
Her story written with no words…
We will always miss the heart of gold
The love, the beautiful soul
Who blessed us so – will we ever be consoled?
Sitting by a fire on a winter night –
longing to see daylight –
shivering, freezing, in the icy cold –
how long can my patience hold?
“We’ll be all fine,” Father had assured –
just days before his absence we endured.
Mother had consoled me through rivers of tears –
hours before we’d face our fears –
Cruel murderers, they blasted the streets –
riding grandly on their war tank fleets –
people dropping still by the second –
but I didn’t budge, even as Death beckoned.
Captivity chained me, dragged me along –
tell me, killers, what was my wrong?
Is it that I live in the land that you hate?
Why, why is this my fate?
Sitting by a raging fire on a chilly night –
wondering how long I’ll face this plight –
will this dark dusk ever cease?
Will I, someday, witness dawn and peace?
Written: January 16, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I'm aged echoes utter to unfold,
I recall a time that was brief as flame,
Humming of lapsed whispers reckon my name,
By the warmth of dusk, my soul is consoled;
We strive to hold our chisel with each breath,
An epic tale where your hoarse dreams run high,
You moved into the dimness, morphing sigh,
And discovered a gold heart before death;
Eternal seas that wash upon the shore,
Contain the truths that age shall not disclaim,
Each wave a metaphor for life’s acclaim,
As tides remind you love is at its core.
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