At Five,the world around seems confusing
The moves are mesmerizing, so amusing.
One knows no lies and smiles
Plays and explores,counting upto miles.
At Fifteen,one is full of energy and zest
One is impulsive,there's no desire for rest.
One dwells in dreams and fantasies
One enjoys the company of friends, like a swarm of bees.
At Thirty,one feels to have a permanent bond
With a person one wants to be and is fond...
One develops a true sense of responsibility
One strives to achieve and gain stability.
At Fifty,one loses all charm and desire
The level of spirituality, goes higher and higher.
One enjoys the company of members in family
Wants to spend the rest of his life,happily...
At Seventy,one likes the company of peers
With them,he shares the memories,smiles with eyes,full of tears...
One often feels connected with the Lord
Feels,the ultimate path,leads to the Almighty...God.
When midnight turns the corner
another day will begin
but only time and tide can tell
what it holds within
for man's best laid plans
are made of smoke in the wind
on which his hopes and desires
are pinned
from a fading moon to a rising sun
dreams may be superfluous
for who's to say at the end of the day
what will become of us
Response to Mexican poet /writer, Octavio Paz
There is not
A single soul among the trees
And I
Don't know where I've gone.
Where he sought to walk
neither foot fully stepped
more than anemically …
when time tripped
him over this reveal
his heart sought a
numbness his
light would not
accept -
dimness changed his depth
We breathe in the shadows, perfecting the lie,
While the truth of us screams in a hushed lullaby.
I am stained by that kiss—by the heat, by the sin,
By the way that you let me and the cold universe in.
You were the brave one, the first to break through,
But now I am haunted by the ghost of you.
I am tearing apart in the way i wait for your touch,
Loathing the fact that I want you this much.
Was it a whim? Just a flicker of grey?
Or does the same fever consume you today?
The unknown is a killer, deep in the vein,
A craving for pleasure that’s indistinguishable from pain.
The guilt is a shadow I can't seem to shed,
A heavy, dark cover I wear in bed.
When the world demands we play out our part,
In the wreckage of us, hold me in your heart.
I am drowning in "maybe”, in secrets and salt,
Loving you feels like a beautiful fault.
If this is a ruin, let the heavy stone fall,
But if you are with me—if you feel it all—
Then let the shame burn until we are apart,
And forever, please, hold me in your heart.
I have left a piece of myself
in everything I have loved,
and here I stand before myself,
with nothing left inside me.
My heart aches to be full again but how can
I be full again without being a fool again?
I am too understanding now to be
fooled again to be full with emotions again.
—triyan
If I crash-out of this med-school thing, I hope it’s a gentle spiral.
Upon a trembling wire I make my stand,
a Flying Wallenda, knowing no other life.
A deep and quiet moonlight, well flatters the mind's labour.
So scholars' efforts are commonly crowned in sleepless industry.
Coincidentally, those same treacherous moonbeams
dubble-dip as lover's ambiance.
Those that study flesh, may find their own poorly mastered,
as it conspires - in want - and distracts with fancies ill-timed
- as if desires were somehow exam-unaware.
Ambition ties me, with strings, to ever-urgent examinations,
while desire, that merry thief, giddily unlaces me.
Between love and ambition, I dance a careful step,
half-architect and half-willing fool.
Should I fall - as other highwire walkers have,
let it be said that I fell with blushing grace
- not by neglect, or overzealous reach,
but by the tragedy of earnest and impatient love.
Exams start in 2 hours. It’s hell week. Wish me luck!
.
.
A song for this:
Tiger, my friend by psapp
Flames of passion so overwhelming,
So hard just to be friend.
Emotions that can be twisted,
Attractions that are more than feelings.
So much unwanted desires to live for,
Still timid and not too sure.
At the right time,
Trying to reach out and connect.
Like a love poem so hard to write,
A long life full of drama with no end.
Waiting for more than a quickie,
Feelings of wanting more than a relationship!!!
More than one's loins to long for;
So vain and still not too pure,
Wanting more than a crush,
Stopping all the doubts,
A fever that is so hard to stop,
Heated from bottom to top,
Desires with no playing or messing around!
The pain of staying,
Even worse than leaving.
So rare and unique......
Fit for a queen and king,
So easy to get lost in,
Even harder to get out of!!!
Worthy of all efforts,
Still wanting to belong!
Still wanting to stay for the long run,
Just waiting is no fun.
More than a treasure to admire,
More than all the consequences to be desired!
milestones to go before I sleep......
More promises to go before I sleep!!!
Have you ever had the feeling, something is watching you,
these words that I write, they are surly true.
Those feelings turn to emotions, bringing forth their fear,
as you feel the darkness, draws so deathly near.
You scurry in fright, from things you cannot see,
now realizing, how true this moment be.
As you think your safe, you turn for one last look,
as the fear trembles, in your bones you shook.
Many times has this happened, before I could truly see,
oh how that darkness, comes for you and me.
In a world of chaos and confusion, to these things that be,
sometimes we can feel them, but we cannot see.
Take a good look around you, watch and beware,
those spirits are out watching, without a care.
Those spirits, sometimes come in human forms,
in your life, they cause you many storms.
They come in different varieties, each has it’s own unique desire,
therefore with God, it is the Holy Ghost, and fire.
When His Spirits are present, it’s a brand new way,
when the darkness comes for you, it’s beaten to bray.
No more, will you run in fear, it falls at your feet, you see,
when we stand in the truth, over these things we will be.
My eyes have keys.
My eyes have locks.
My keys don’t fit my locks.
Eyes are made to look out
So, only out I gazed, I sought.
Others’ eyes held their own locks,
A gallery, magnificent and varied.
In those foreign yet familiar clasps, my keys tarried,
Then with a bit of work, they married—
To treasure chests filled with grand memories
To chains tight and binding
To foggy rooms with dim outlines
To hope chests crammed with keepsake findings
To storage cabinets and their appliances
To showcases bright with earnings
To boxes of hats, masks, and glasses
To cages cold with yearnings
Countless lock types I’ve encountered and
Countless locks have crumbled.
But, behind my doors are mysteries
My locks still waiting to tumble.
We gild our days with restless gold,
Chasing coins that slip through time,
Faces polished, young or old,
Mirrors whispering their rhyme.
We climb the ladders built of praise,
Each rung a promise thin as air;
The crowd applauds for fleeting days,
Then turns to find another heir.
We drink from wells of borrowed grace,
Wanting more with every sip;
Yet every treasure we embrace
Crumbles slowly in our grip.
But when the noise dissolves to dust
And all illusions fade like fire,
We learn the things we chose to trust
Were shadows of a deeper higher.
For hearts find peace in humbler aims,
Not trophies dressed in false attire;
And wisdom softly, gently claims—
There’s freedom in forgetting desire.
He said, it’s futile fighting raging fires
With weak resolves that may tend to stoke it,
I’d much rather go with my heart’s desires,
So spare for future your wisdom’s tool kit
And loosen up to enjoy passion's heat,
Bask in desires’ warm glow, never retreat.
Beware, warm passion often heat acquires,
She posed, to know it is what this life is.
Why? Enough to know fair from foul desires--
The fair ones feel much like a pleasant breeze,
Whilst raging fires are whirlwinds, far from joy.
Fair, fanciful, desires are leads of life,
Let’s be a child engrossed in her new toy,
Yea, toys each to each be husband and wife.
_______________________________
Sonnet (tongue-in-cheek) | 06.04.2005 |desire, fire, life
Note: Here is a dialogue between two newly married. It begins with philosophy, but as the moments warm up in passion, they tend to forget all arguments to come close to agreement. A conjugal bed is a great leveller where all differences tend to even out.
I’m wishing things were different.
I question what I absolutely cannot change.
I catch myself praying for petty wants.
I see the pretense of my ways.
Some old habits die hard.
AP: 3rd place 2025
It is said that after every hardship there comes ease,
It’s true, but what about the struggle they faced?
They gazed for help, but people stand amazed,
They were crying, starving, and cried for help.
The ship sailed with food, water, and hope in their heart,
But who knows ahead there are hurdles in their path?
They are crying, but tears also dried up with thirst,
People’s hearts are filled with hate and revenge,
Stones are softer as they break when it rains.
Humans are the most productive and constructive creature on Earth,
But also the most destructive — as they build a building or destroy it.
They make a promise or break it,
They share, but claim on something that is not theirs.
And when they fail in doing so,
They destroy generations, families, and a whole country.
Her float was shallow.
Her pyramid was a beautiful theme
of dreams she wished time would,
first of all,
let float.
What could she have done
with so many butterflies?
She respected her furious nature.
Her beehive held a limitless wealth,
but she never forgot
how it was almost empty.
“Allow nature to emerge in your belly and drink.
Beautiful rain can fall on stones
and still make voices that represent God too.
Allow the honey to heal you,
and dance with its sage.
Let lavender flowers bloom on your forehead.
Pursue the romantic desires of motion,
and just let things float."
Bernice Zoleka Mannie
LYAIOZ MANNIE
water bear enjoys
colors of life beyond dreams-
the human desires
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