VISIBLE REALITY-:-
rapidly
painted
frescoes
challenge
tradition
with a MARKED FEELING
narratives
externally
pursued
spectacularly
adorned
with a THIRST FOR PRESTIGE
proclaiming
forgotten
transient
formed
fraternities
There are those who Save Coins for a better tomorrow
yet, to live for tomorrow is to live in Sorrow
for today truly is all we ever have
when one wields the Sword and Staff,
Just Let It Shine, it's truly as simple as that
and this is the Great Celestial Epitaph,
hoarding in goods that inevitably turn to dust
but a token in the spirit, In This I Trust
what we do and don't do is all that counts
Right Here, Right Now is Paramount
Ashes to Ashes, Illusions to Night
Fire to Fire unto Wisdoms of Light,
Be Forever in this moment, heed to these Innards of Life
for Yesterday is Gone, Tomorrow a Farce, by Wisdom we Rule the Nights
some never see, some know this road
some find Treasures, some Reap Thorns
All Is Wise, externally nothing ever lasts
Investments in Knowledge Conquers the Hour Glass
Be Present, what you seek lies within
some chase and some claim these riches,
so never wait for the proper time
See It, Believe It, and Live To Shine
Freedom, a stolen patent by the white man
Seen as a capitalistic venture,
Marketed towards those deemed ‘inferior’
Not seen as a right, but as a luxury
Tied with the ribbon of controlled hierarchy -
To keep black in a constant state of survival,
And the white in a state of insecure power -
Externally polished, but internally cracking
A systemic imbalance weakened by unease
Freedom a currency owned by the corrupt
Used to dictate societal roles -
A way to systemise racial control
A way to protect the weapon of inequality
Reducing the oppressed to desperation -
Of basic human rights
A sadistic trait of the oppressor -
Watching the loss of our dignity in order for our humanity
A history of embarrassment, forced onto our ancestors
All to distract from their inner battles of inferiority
A secret they won’t tell, they’ll decree it as impossible
Despite a history of targeted discrimination
Despite a lifetime of oppression
All because black people are everything, they will never be
Humanity has just a handful of races
Real, quantifiable genetic differences
Based on evolutionary adaptation.
The rest of us are just a mix.
Not long ago you got bonus points
For “passing as white”
And now the bonus points come
With being identified as a minority.
The ultimate way to classify us all
Would be through genetics.
So instead of a self identified
Or externally observable grouping
We’d get a number of percentage
Which would go into our digital ID.
This would be most accurate
But also most absurd.
The alternative would be
To finally get beyond race
And simply call us, each,
A human.
(10/25/25)
Call it the Charlie Kirk effect
But for not being a Christian, recently
I’ve been hearing a lot of Bible quotes,
Quotes which I can easily take to heart,
Like the parable of the wheat ripening
In the field
While the weeds also ripened
All around.
It’s not a matter of just wanting one and not the other
And getting our wishes as if they had that power.
It’s a matter of recognizing both,
The difference in the seeds and their causes,
And appreciating how both the crop and the weeds
Are part of our nature, and both will be abundant
When we reach a crisis point of fullness,
Internally as spiritual beings as we struggle
To live the truth within our conflicted nature,
And externally as material beings as this conflict
Plays out in wars, domestic and foreign,
As both sides struggle for survival and dominance.
It’s easy to know which side will prevail
Since one side is of Life
And the other of death.
We might be self-deluded which side we’re actually on
But in the end it will be crystal clear.
Life and death after all
Cannot be confused.
(10/12/25)
ART expressive elaboration executed externally
Some say poetry is a dying art
Headed toward the dustbins of the latter,
Whereas I see it as an arrow flying
Towards ideas and thoughts that matter.
As photographs and videos
At the speed of light these days
Have become our culture’s medium
In how we think and what we say.
Our attention spans have disappeared
With our faces in our phones
Connecting us with the world at large
While leaving us more alone.
Except for we who love poetry:
Making sense of who we are.
For poetry gives symmetry
And points us to the stars.
Internally and externally
Both spiritually and above,
For reading and writing poetry
Is a gift of life and love.
See your Intuition
Smell your Potential
Touch your Emotions
Taste your Experience
Unbox true calling
Harvest Greatness Internally
Set boundaries
Keep toxic persons, place outside
Optimise energy, resources, time
Scale up ideas, self-belief
Set realistic goals
Achieve with passion, conviction
Harvest Greatness Externally
_________________________________
Dr Hitendra Mehta, India, ????
This internal conflict
Holding all my secrets inside
Is affecting the way I am externally seen
Reacting to unknown insecurities in secret
Because uneducated people
Stigmatize everything
I gotta hide all the parts of me
They deemed as socially unacceptable
To the standards of
An unaccepting society
But I'd be a misfit and
labeled psychotic
If I opened the door up
to all the parts of me
It's hiding
It's quite the dilemma
Inside of me I'm trying to write it on the wall
So it's obvious for others to see
Maybe outline opinions
That were once outside, with breath now inside me
Opinionated, alive
Death has fallen upon them
Due to judgment from everyone else about how I am supposed to be inside and
I guess I can mark down opinions as the cause of death
On the autopsy:
"Young woman detached from any attachment to this society".
NOISE ANNOYS
Externally it might emerge as a belch
Especially as the seltzer may just fizz
But inside, one may just hear the stomach squelch
Maybe a hiccup, well you know how it is
A grunt is quite the opposite, so they say
But no-one should cackle in a TV quiz
A silly giggle might just escape one day
Yet a howl might just be judged a bit too loud
But a laugh, not a bellow, that is Okay
Such sounds may amuse an audience or crowd
In a studio setting, rules can apply
But deafening silence is rarely allowed
Bodily functions can often go awry
And can surprise anyone, yet few know why
D is for desire, your thoughts do aspire.
A is for attractive, internally and externally reactive
T is for tough, not hard but ten ply enough
S is for sincere, a pillar of truth to all you hold dear
O is for orderly, a lifelong passion you are extraordinary
N is for normal, step outside of the box that is so formal
With the sudden loss of my dear wife,
In distant home land, I could not save her of heart attack,
With funeral pyres cremating her on banks of holy river,
Heart cried for weeks, family in shock for months.
Crying must become stealth, as work survival got critical,
The deep sorrow and shock got stacked in wounded heart,
Tears dried up externally, but flowed with emotions internally,
The feelings and longing for each other stayed in my heart forever,
Some internet friends, asked me to write my feelings,
A verse, a lament, whatever poured out of my heart,
After month of trials, one day the heart opened in poems.
The poems started pouring out some 20 years ago,
Some were love poems, some bore loneliness,
Some described her beauty and saw her in garden roses,
Heard her songs in the waves on beautiful beaches.
If it was not her loss, I would not have written a poem in my life,
My engineering training lacked vocabulary and knowledge of poems,
Wrote almost three hundred poems in next three years,
All in free verse without knowing abcd of poetry writing.
"Every leaf speaks bliss to me
fluttering from the autumn tree."
Quote by _Emily Bronte
I love how each majestic tree will grow,
how each season is a moment in time;
and how each grand tree- her hued colors show,
oh, sparrow's chirrup and on a branch chime.
The dappled leaves a painted veil above,
brimming with song birds singing so happy;
a solitary soul with trees I love,
gathering the gold- squirrels are snappy.
There is no gloom in the grandeur of Fall,
oh, how the honey breath just reaches out;
but there is decaying of big and small,
on the ground red, gold jewels lay about.
Trees go to sleep to wake eternally;
but they still stand on guard externally.
Prone to portray an image to have it all figured out
Externally put together while internally pulled apart
Ready to take off armor and start letting down guard
Reinforcing interior instead of constructing a façade
Possible to flip the script to stop putting on a show
Displaying my mess instead as an opportunity to grow
"Romanticising the Bleed"
I have something to tell you
he says
you have to be an adult
about it
he says
so he tells me
I’m externally calm
internally I’m torn
to kingdom come
I think of quick sand
and drowning
in a sea of mud
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
...well,
that was then;
quills as
sharp as
razor blades now,
romanticising
the bleed
tracks like chapters
marked, the
lesser known taken,
a small sacrifice
stolen for love
Sub Categories
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