(I dedicate this to my battle of quitting nicotine)
Before I was anxiety with rage
Consumed by consumables
I finally forced consumables to retreat
I didn’t do it alone I had my angels
I can finally see the world with clarity
It isn’t so bad when your mind can breath
The irony with chemicals is toll one pays
First skipping a toll only later feel death
weighed myself at seven a.m.
not thrilled with the results
at noon my weight was no better
I drank eight glasses of water today
spent volume of time in the bathroom
figured I probably lost a pound there
at seven p.m. I attempted another go on the scales.
How can anyone gain three pounds in one day?
I went back to the kitchen and ate cake.
In the face of irresistible attraction, I lose myself in my rebellious nature,
I cannot restrain what I feel, nor change the choices I've made,
I act contrary to expectations, like an undisciplined artist,
For I lack the power to hold back when you are near me.
Your presence is a storm that consumes me, an endless whirlwind,
It overwhelms me, pulls me from reality, and carries me into a dream,
For a moment that feels like eternity, a time suspended in time,
I feel helpless, captive in a universe where only you exist.
I am lost, without clear thoughts, unable to distinguish or believe,
In anything but you, in the light that gently blinds me,
Everything I've learned, everything I've built as the foundation of my being,
Has scattered, with no rules or religions to make me think otherwise.
I am at your mercy, whether you intended it to be so or not,
It's the way I feel, it's the way I am when you are near me,
Like a leaf carried by the wind, like a song without end,
I surrender to you, uncontrollable attraction and boundless desire.
All day
I have been
searching
for myself.
And there I was,
unobtrusive,
watching on,
keeping quiet
under a loud
chatter of thoughts.
I quite often
get lost.
“I have journeyed within myself,
Scanned rumblings of the inner self
Lent my ears to the inner chime
Within grasp of the sands of time.” By author.
**************************************************************
The Journey Within
The journey within, for diverse souls,
Begins at diverse stages of life,
For some since early days of childhood,
Goaded by parental mentoring,
For others during the course of life
Driven by coincidence or a quirk of fate.
For some it`s an insightful journey
Shining with light of enlightenment,
A straight-line excursion to top of a mount,
For others a nebulous trip shrouded with haze,
Veiled with dark doubt and deadly dread,
A sporadic trek ceasing at foot of a hill.
My journey within glowing since days of youth,
Sparkling through exposure and learning,
Has been deeply anchored with quest to know myself,
To find who I am and my goals in life.
Storms of life sustained from fate and men
Have propelled me to scan deeper within myself,
To treasure peace and bliss in solitude
At the shining lake of my inner self.
In the deep night, I swallowed myself,
A shard of glass sharp in the throat of silence,
Shards carving the outline of a lost being,
There was a girl who wept like winter rivers.
With a heart split, cold and merciless,
Drowned in the hunger of being too much, never enough,
I pressed my face to the mirror of cold cruelty,
Trying to recognize the eyes of a stranger.
Watching as she bled silently in the cracks of time,
Her silence louder than any scream,
I shed the soft skin of lost innocence,
Falling away like dead leaves in late autumn.
Revealing a skeleton forged from fire and regrets,
I carry with me the ghosts of every lost version,
Each a mark, a wound, a silent prayer,
And sometimes, when night is sharp, I hear their voices.
Broken cradles in the dark, murmuring to me that I'm not broken,
But merely becoming, in every whisper of the night,
Telling me I'm not lost, but transforming,
Like an old song, echoing in the deep silence.
here, between myself and myself,
God dwells when
He flees the world.
I found Him once
in a forgotten loaf of bread
on the steps of a hospice,
in an old woman asking forgiveness
for simply living.
He did not ask who I am.
He touched my brow
and retreated back into the wound.
we do not think.
we defend ourselves from thoughts
as from a fire burning within.
My persona divides to split in three :
Impulse, Intellect, rationality.
All run simultaneous to feel free.
At a time, one may get priority.
I know, impulse is most irrational.
Rationality gets ready to fight.
I feel helpless, being emotional.
I am confused to decide wrong or right !
When I act impulsive, losing control.
Intellect is prompt to come in conflict,
but resisted by compassionate soul.
My keen intelligence fails to be strict.
Even my Intellect faces strong clash
with rationality at certain stage.
At that moment, whose influence to flash -
I am just incapable to manage.
I'm not feeling at all myself today—
I see a sea of selfies.
adrift in a mirror maze,
floating as reflections that are lost
in a hall of posed intentions.
Each face is a practiced smile.
a seance of polished poses,
looped like circling carousel horses,
whispering secrets they pretend are mine.
I forge new versions of myself daily,
crafted to echo what strangers crave,
me to be, or to become, not what I truly am,
hiding in the hollow eye sockets of the masks.
As for me, I feel more like I'm becoming.
A be, yet to be; a question still unraveling.
I'm a stem cell of identity.
Not yet fixed, not yet become,
with a fluid potential to be everything,
or just a little bit of nothing,
all in the same breath.
My shadow lingers behind me.
Faithful, yet mute, and blind—
unable to speak or swim,
or survive the spotlight’s glare.
It hides my darker inner self from me.
That none of my selfie reflections,
in the mirrors ever want to see.
It was a funeral for myself
And I still haven't buried her yet
The sky opened up and released its anger
Rained down in grief and sadness
The only other witness to her multiple deaths
The world built her to break
It was too late to save her
For she was now unrecognisable
In a casket crafted from pain
I, the only witness
To this silent tragedy
To the world it was quiet
But to her it was deafening
The constant reminder of being black
Of the trials and tribulations
Of going to hell and back
Her killers
Well, I think we all know the answer to that
The ghosts of the many parts she killed
Still harbour the body she's in
She knows she'll be forever haunted by the deaths within
She carried the guilt that was not her burden
She finally succumbed to a death that should never happened
And now the parts of her that still live
Are left with all the damage
To the little black girl within
You should never had to ask for forgiveness
For who you are, and all of your blackness
So with that being said to all the parts of me I had to kill
I hope you rest in peace
Do not go gentle into that good night but rage,
rage against the dying of the light
—Dylan Thomas
sunny outside, not
cloudy inside; out
of my mind, mindless
wandering and wondering;
fine - fooling myself?
days tedious, no drums.
no inkling of a violin,
even to suffer with.
May be smoking hot,
but red skin is turning white.
falling up, failing to feel sorry
for oneself. calls limited
to a free for all. Fall
can’t come soon enough
with its brisk breeze,
booming colors, activities.
still, I will rest. I rest
in the curve
of the Almighty’s arm.
the arrow is set
in the string of the bow.
my smile longs
to jettison on the wind.
a windy day, to feel
the joy of friendship,
to fill my quiver
with euphoria.
still, we all must give up
a bit of ourselves,
not to be too full
of ourselves.
March Comes In Like A Lion
Dandelion dance
in the palm of my
hand; a gentle
bloom.
I love
my birthday
flower.
I.
I got lost inside myself one night,
Like stars fall through a dome.
The body stayed, but not the light
The soul had left for home.
II.
I walked a library of breath,
Books unwritten, spines of bone.
Each dream was shelved behind my eyes,
And each one dreamed alone.
III.
My ribs turned into corridors,
Each one a silver thread,
Where time knelt down and locked its doors
Inside my hollow head.
IV.
I passed a moon with open veins,
Its blood was blue and slow.
The silence whispered names of me
I never got to know.
V.
I vanished into what I was
Not flesh, not mind, but mist.
And something vast began to buzz
In all I don’t exist.
I reminded myself in an unusual way,
While standing in a rain of a watery display,
Soaking in my new town's local splash park,
Remembering how I needn't be in the dark.
I let the risen structuredly flowing fountain
Grant me a liquified sense of liberation
As I basked beneath a cloudy sunlit sky,
Promising myself to never again deeply cry.
I reminded myself on this very special day,
From now on everything'll be more okay.
I embraced all my parts of that were hurting,
As I began speculating every new beginning.
I smiled fondly about who I am becoming,
As I close the chapters for every ending.
I danced in the upwardly cascading rains,
As I silently renounced away all of my pains.
I feel like I’ve been lazy lately
I think I should go harder
Maybe?
I’m not satisfied
I know I can do better
Pushing yourself to be better is the new cool
Who gives a damn about what others think about you?
I feel better now that I don’t care if I’m liked or not
Hard work pays off
You can’t maneuver in this world always being soft
Yet I do enjoy the soft life
A life of being in my feminine energy
I enjoy a peaceful life
Growing and doing what is meant for me
I know what is destined for me
I am always striving for ways to better myself and to achieve the goals I set for myself
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