What does it mean to be the next flower to fall after the garden fence is reinforced with tears from the street?
A rose
With the scent of the earth
Aroma from the clouds
A desire to soar
Tides crashing
against the shore
Pauses to expose
the measure
Of the treasure
Yet the strain
Of the petals
inside the fine veins
Yearning for a selfie
The glee of the folds
So bold
Expecting expansion
Spirit of ascension
Reinforced by
The longing for flight
Freedom of light
In addition
The sops
The raindrops
Veils slowly ajar
A glimpse of the shine
of a star
A delicate smile
Somewhat beguiled
At a simmer
A glimmer
Lips and eyes follow
From a depth
Gradually
The treasure
Time swallowing time
Chimes in the atmosphere
Eyelashes and hair
Fair and lovely
And the eyes
Azure and solitary
The flute
Its sheen
Nose aquiline
Ready to receive
with a salute
___________
July 23, 2025
“Imagination hones our thoughts to soar
above the ordinary ones that bore.”
_by Poet
Imagination is a special gift
that silently directs how we will live;
directing inner visions which may drift
into creations we can share or give.
These are refined within a mental sieve
into creative feats, most times through art.
For poems, paintings, and good music start
from mind's imagination passed to soul,
and reinforced by feelings in the heart-
from just an inner blur to something whole.
Igneous rocks moltened, crystallized, solidified
rising towards the surface like a hot furnace
Volcanic activity of the soul, conundrum of the heart
rule out the mind and the body facilitates, erupts !
One transformative honest experience and we
arrive at a gestalt moment of truth, we are
both energies, ... "explosive and implosive"
filled with adroitness and clumsiness alike
Profound changes in ones individual essence
can be an awakening of great disturbance
Within the ring of fire, boundaries co-exist
illumination is feasible if it is undeniable !
Magnetic moments in the soul reinforced
through our dreams, hopes, and fears....
Owning both destructive and creative powers
our souls do make choices each and every day
Both volcanoes and souls contain openings
and when the day of reckoning is near
we either choose to lay dormant or explode
it all depends upon our soul's barcode...
Who knew you were an ammunition,
A camouflage with a malice!
I'm still numb from the revelation
No matter how much I try
I'm afraid that I might risk walking the path
that killed all my dreams I'd reinforced spellbound by your lies!
I'm locked in your cellar
For the crime of conviction
In the castle you built
And called our home!
There's a door on your side
I know l'd never dare to knock
The door wrapped in Bougainvillea
Hiding behind them
The thorns of your sweet excuses!
I know I must avert
And disappear into the fog,
Hoping you'd then realise what a loss feels like!
But, my limbs are paralysed by the venom of trust
That sluggishly ran through my blood
Tormenting me all these years !
Now,
All I need is an escape
Is that too much to ask for?
If you must have my head, show it to the ones I’ve led,
Leave them restless in their bed, even still our young will remain fed.
Reinforced by our past in chains once bound,
With the reins in our hands, now you will hear our sound.
You’ve erased our names, only known in lies,
A stink so foul, the ignorance a given
We fight the flies, but in the end we’ll have risen
Their will won’t break, There's a truth you can’t shake.
Forced to watch our mothers and fathers on stakes,
Left to rot, discarded in lakes.
Unable to block us out, with talent we’ll earn our spot.
From dirty dusty droughts, to streets that scream with grace,
Through art, love, and hate we will claim our place.
Confined potential.
Reinforced by “they”.
We dream endlessly,
And inside clocks.
Like God whispered infinity into a loop.
Malleable futures
Mandated into walls and calendars.
Gear is stuck in reverse.
And it beeps when I put it in drive.
Soft socks
And quiet footsteps—
I float past the plagiarism
To find the hook with diamond bait,
The fish with golden gills.
A treasure untouched.
Earthquakes of bedlam quell
As tectonic plates of emotional instability cease shifting.
The tears of a discarded clown, suspended in animation—
Numbness overtakes.
Masks slip, shattering.
Shards scrape, lacerating apathetic flesh,
Revealing the painted doll underneath.
Remove its colourful costume;
Discover marionette strings embedded within a fraying back.
Strip the howling voices from its waking nightmares.
Feel deadening voids devour any morsel left of a wounded heart,
Whilst balmy plasma metamorphoses into gelid hemoglobin,
Hardening undying devotion into frigid detest.
Titanium walls, reinforced with razor wire, barricade a hollow soul.
For she was mere amusement for the indoctrinated masses—
An illusion of happiness, playing day in and day out.
Listen, as her inviting laugh transmutes into the cackle of hyenas.
Watch the paint, plastered upon an unwilling face, crack one last time.
Her eleventh hour has arrived.
Bear witness to the merciless statuette you birthed.
Let them not discover the ocean of words dancing within me,
Unspoken, like a siren’s song hidden beneath the waves,
The wave of feelings embracing my heart like a silent hurricane,
Which I cannot refuse, a sea of vibrant and living emotions.
I put down the pen, and the ink faded like a sunset,
I closed the gates of technology, hid the soul behind the digital curtain,
Where only the silence of lips and shackles of hands can be seen,
Subjected to their rules, like puppets in the hands of fate—
These reinforced norms, customs of a broken world,
In a shattered land, with a conscience torn by the winds of time.
Though acceptance is a double-edged sword, I still hope—
Gathering the shards of the self, embracing silence like an old friend,
Until values and the light of justice rise like a new beginning,
Emerging from the shadows that held us captive,
To fulfill the promise—The promise of a liberating Tomorrow.
Where my words will no longer be birds in cages of silence,
Where quiet will no longer be my only sanctuary.
Where voices will rise, unbound and bold,
To conquer freedom, to discover peace like a lost island.
Confined within the steep banks of a narrow mind
is a cryptic river where men stumble in and go blind
They construct reinforced dams that hold them back
from accepting the candid truth, white is not black
Like the slow-moving current of a trickling stream
their thoughts are clogged and clot like curdled cream
What chance do the recalcitrant ones have to accept
reality if they allow no vision of being circumspect
of taking fault and blame for having a closed mind?
These are the ignorant, the foolish ones aptly defined
as those destined to stagnate until they decompose
It's the subsequent end to the stubborn who oppose
a new premise or concept with which they don't agree
They rot inside prisons of conceit, a human tragedy
A young man had recently finished high school,
but he had not determined what to do with his life.
On a train to visit relatives in a faraway city,
He was seated with an elderly gentleman. As they
were engaged in a conversation, the young man asked
the elderly gentleman about how to decide on his
life's work.
Without hesitation, the older man responded by saying,
"There are five essential things you must realize".
1. Your PLAN must be merged with God's PLAN.
2. Your PURPOSE in life must be DEFINED.
3. Your SKILL-SET must be IDENTIFIED.
4. Your PREPARATION must be INITIATED.
5. Your PURSUIT must be ENJOINED.
The elderly gentleman went on to say that
the principles he shared were ongoing and
needing to be acknowledged and reinforced
throughout one's lifetime.
011825PS
belied expectations
caused feeling of hurt
inability to let go
made resentment spurt
the earth rotated
and seasons changed
but the ego-mind
remained deranged
reinforced by thought
suffering amplified
soul’s light within heart
seemed to have died
the witch doctor
offered a cure
choose cessation
and make heart pure
stagnation is death
flow like the breeze
sensations any
embrace and release
what causes shadows
that opaques light
ego is the blockage
which diminishes delight
first forgiveness
a Ho’oponopono prayer
then acceptance
spake the soothsayer
the bubble of anger
burst noiselessly in the void
soul’s light was revealed
pure and unalloyed
Waves of nausea crash against my splintering ribcage,
stomach churning, bile burning through esophageal walls.
Choking on paranoia-fueled delirium,
self-inflicted wounds etched upon a fragile psyche,
all while I try to hold on to some semblance of my humanity.
Push and pull, breaking down walls,
then building them back up, reinforced.
Love never came easy in delusion-filled memories,
always hovering at the cusp of fiction,
ready to strike like a coiled python.
Then, like glass, tears would cascade down,
begging for forgiveness.
Paranoia-induced hallucinations gripped my marrow again,
coursing through tainted bloodstreams,
blinding any sense of reason.
So life imitated drug-soaked nightmares
as my security slipped through calloused fingers once more.
While the rain pummels down against abandoned dreams,
I am haunted by you in this empty house.
Nothing but phantoms of the past roam
in the dead of night,
wailing in the deafening silence,
a requiem for my inner demons’ eternal torment.
Scars hidden,
All the Wounds you've dealt,
Blood given,
All the pain I've felt.
Yet I was the problem,
I was the reason this didn't work,
I was all the tallys on your column,
Because you drove me berserk.
Left with nothing but a shell,
An empty, bored out husk,
You've sent me to hell,
Awaiting the dawn, Marooned in dusk.
I feel the immensity of pure emotion,
I thought I had reinforced my walls,
You broke them down, like waves of the ocean,
Just to pierce my core and watch my fall.
The Wooden Shop
Laughter mingled in the air,
And happiness danced with immense flair,
As they walked inside the vivid, wooden shop,
Hearts reinforced by caffeinated drink drops!
Colors painted across the small, glass spheres,
As they walked hand-in-hand, nearer and near,
Talking, and smiling, and teasing alike,
For in those moments, they forgot life’s strifes,
The beads weaved the golden seconds together,
As they tried on the jewels and ambers,
Each piece of jewelry engraved a new story,
Each bracelet gleamed with childhood memories,
Their bond stayed strong as the years turned gold,
Their earrings still swung, proud and bold,
And on one faithful day, it happened again,
The wooden shop was still vivid and plain,
The friends exchanged their life’s colors,
Weaving beads and joy all together,
Life had been tough, life had been hard,
But in that moment, they forgot their scars,
Laughing all their worries away,
The bracelets gleamed golden all day,
Happiness danced with immense flair,
Once again, laughter mingled in the air!
- Indrani A. Deo
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