Here grows a jackfruit tree in my office’s backyard
I wish to share a memoir of my life, which was marred by depression
It was just a sapling when I had joined duty
We both forged our respective journeys into the wild.
Having started flourishing in its own way
The sapling developed branches and started bearing fruit.
In contrast, my life started shrinking with depression
Following a negative trend and became messy
With people around me considering me a burden
Having had a roller-coaster journey of living
I feel my journey to be worth narrating.
Wishing to relieve stress from someone feeling depressed
I dare to share some of my experiences coping with depression.
Prior to dealing with depression and its resolution
I just want to let you have a glimpse of my journey.
The jackfruit possesses an outer spiky peel and an inner sweet pulp
Some people who seem negative on the surface, like the jackfruit peel,
are sweet inside, like its pulp
To some extent, this holds good for me too.
Having been a topper during my school and college days
I had always been under immense pressure to perform.
A convention was held in a foreign land. Playwrights, writers and authors (young and old) were recognized for their respective works. Everybody was overwhelmed for meeting new friends, beginners and veterans in the field of prose and poetry, scriptwriting, narrating, storytelling and publication of different sorts.
When the female guest speaker ended her speech, a male writer-author was silent in many casual conversations because the topic is about success. Nevertheless, everybody else is happy during the chitchats because by majority success was defined by fame and how much money you make.
The silent writer-author sold only two books in the market, but was never ashamed of the results of his work.
A young female author asked the silent writer-author, "What is royalty?"
The silent one replied, "It is when you are included in the statistics of big earnings without earning a single cent in reality!"
Do you question reality?
I do sometimes;
Today I found myself on the second floor
Of a fast food building;
Sitting nearby the window
In some bench-like chair;
There were three of us;
One in the corner;
One in the middle of the small room;
And I nearby the window;
For a while I appreciated the fact that we,
As species,
For a while,
Were able to eat each its respective food,
Without gnarling and snarling at each other;
Every time I see children playing
With their respective mothers,
How lucky they are! I tell to myself.
Hiding my tears under my eyelids,
I console myself for having lost
My mother when I was just a baby.
She was an epitome of kindness,
What her contemporaries tell me.
She was generosity incarnate,
The members of our family describe her.
If I’m given the power to travel back in time,
I would like to alter her death and see
How she looked like and get back
Her love that I’ve lost all these years.
I would like to sleep on her lap
Forgetting the world around me.
My two eyes view the prize,
As atoms materialize,
Wise to my emotions,
They perform the chosen perspective.
Respective of my beliefs,
They achieve their directive,
Working with the collective,
Erecting a reality.
Gravity the force,
Keeping us on course,
We share it all with the source.
Intercourse with energy,
Is building the entity,
Created to be felt physically,
Viscerally experiencing what you see.
Learning about eternity,
And infinite possibilities,
Feeling everything intensely,
We start creating memories,
Imprinting them in galaxies,
And parallel realities.
The legacy of a timeline,
Intertwines with the Divine,
Yours mixes with mine.
All eyes shining on the prize,
We're seeing a new life rise,
The surprise on the horizon,
A rising son,
Shining light on another one,
Open your eyes and have some fun,
Because the journey is never done,
This prize is for everyone.
I marveled her inch by inch
Such a perfect specimen
Cloaking the details of our
togetheress I wished her
mine in a respective fashion
She stood before me for me
to adore, I sought refuge in
my head to control the edges
Of passion that had me wishing
Wanting and lusting for her
Moments seemed like days
I hummed to be evasive
And sang when it was my part
Restarting our togetherness
For it to only restart
The passions of needing
The passions of wanting
Might love find us
As a lustful pleasing played it's
Part .
A drink to discover her tolerance
of me
Her wanting to smile a need for her
to be
I laughed as she was funny
I loved as she entertained
I costed out our togetherness
As each opportunity came
Communative she pondered
To ask communative information
I quickly responded to her communication
Love is on going
Might to which lovers start a new
Wham bam thank you ma'am
Sorry we are through
I marveled her inch by inch
Such a perfect specimen
Cloaking the details of our
togetheress I wished her
mine in a respective fashion
She stood before me for me
to adore, I sought refuge in
my head to control the edges
Of passion that had me wishing
Wanting and lusting for her
Moments seemed like days
I hummed to be evasive
And sang when it was my part
Restarting our togetherness
For it to only restart
The passions of needing
The passions of wanting
Might love find us
As a lustful pleasing played it's
Part .
A drink to discover her tolerance
of me
Her wanting to smile a need for her
to be
I laughed as she was funny
I loved as she entertained
I costed out our togetherness
As each opportunity came
Communative she pondered
To ask communative information
I quickly responded to her communication
Love is on going
Might to which lovers start a new
Wham bam thank you ma'am
Sorry we are through
Aprilcity was the theme a ridiculous jesture
A smile to say it was witty
A jesture to say it was clever
A lighthouse ajurned to a castle
In the middle of the desert
Might the mermaids sing to me
Might the prayers of sea merchants
Sound above the rocks
Might the winds howl in such agreement
The staffs of respected people
To treat visitors as there equal
From all ends of every nation
To marvel in such creation
Menu to menu
Event to event
Might the travelers who seek
A respective Venue
Speak us as such a retreat
To level the muzzling
the blurred eye to the blind
the most physical among us
To the sweet and unkind
Travelers in lodging
To which respects
A doctrine up holds
Might we stand staffed
To be host to visitor
Our needed like there's unopposed
Hospitality
Hospitality
Hospitality
The needs of many people
When the Language Merge**
I walked into Bobby Department Store and yelled, “Where are the Jamaicans and Barbadians?” This might sound a little strange to most people; however, it’s that time of year when all the languages and dialects merge, accompanied by the authentic accents from their respective places. Plus, there's always a bit of rudeness as people wait in long lines. Yet, amidst it all, the joy of Christmas still shines through in their voices.
Christmas is that one time of year when you can be happy without needing a reason. I could hear conversations like, “I want to mail this barrel by next week, but I know they won’t get it before next year.” As an outsider eavesdropping on these conversations, I sometimes think, “What is this barrel they are talking about? A barrel of rum? A barrel of Jack Daniel’s? A barrel of monkeys? What barrel?”
Yes, Bubba! That barrel is filled with gifts and food for their families on the Island of Brim. All I’d like to add is that I’m reminded that while New Yorkers say “standing online,” the rest of the English-speaking world says “standing in line.” - Jeffrey Stein Garten.
I bring you to a place
Where between us
Is time and space
So far away
Though I wish it not
And always ahead a day
This place is loud
It's thunder claps
It's screams in a crowd
It's violent and bold
It's waves crashing
It's fire taking hold
It's quiet and shape
It's a dagger and a blade
It's haunting notes on a harp
It's thoughts screaming
It's silence deafening
It's tears on a cheek gleaming
It's crying all alone
While you are asleep
Pain felt in the bone
We fight alone
With the other's name in mind
But each in our respective home
It's separation across time and space
And somehow we must last
To one day, together, grace the same place
They were armed with spears forged by their sun god
Mighty and mean, terrifying mountain-like marauders
The commander told them the battle would be fierce
Their enemies arrived with their own copper spears
Their breastplates and helmets were equal to the task
The battle raged for three days; the field smelled like blood
Evenly matched, the warriors continued on their quest
Smashing and bashing, in the name of their respective kings
Kings who sat on two hills, watching silently, with clean clothes.
Kings who did not mind men killing for their chance at more gold.
From a time of being disturbed without each other,
to a time of not meeting each other for days,
a sequence of events have turned our lives
to connect us with our respective journeys
But behind the enthusiasm about 'keep going in life',
underneath the blanket of self help at times
tears shed in grieve, pain and utter regret
of not living life as fantastic as the past
in each other's company creating unforgettable memories,
a bunch talks to share, a partner in crime at service.....
There lies a void corner of intense longing at the end
to see you safe and sound before this long journey ends
Those brief yet special moments of glee
might conceal the cracks developed over the years
The journey beginning with us together
would complete with our tears of sheer delight!
Until then, let not this period of seperation
take away our smiles, like those when we used to meet....
#bestfriends
We used to think about the stars
more distant than the planet Mars
But now we only think of Earth
which puts a damper on our mirth
For on the ground and in the air
There’s so much crud we just can’t bear
So all of you who toss your trash
You ought to be, but aren’t abashed
Be warned! We have a brand-new plan
That we are sure will soon you land
In jail in your respective towns
And change your smiles to ugly frowns
So if you like your freedom, guys
Don’t toss your trash! ~ A word to the wise
A little voice inside keeps saying, “write something different”
Different to what may I ask?
I have surely written about every subject there is to write about
No no! I can't write about THAT!
I'd get censored and my lifetime membership would be revoked
Anyway, writing that stuff is only to get attention
It's called “sensationalism”
The world press is particularly guilty of it
I understand they're in the business to sell papers
And add mucho dollars to their respective bank accounts
BUT a little discretion at times would certainly be in order
I'm not referring to any one particular article or story
Just expressing my thinking
Perhaps if events weren't sensationalized as much
The lunatic fringe would be more concerned with other things
Such as what they have to be thankful for
Instead of complaining about what others have and they don't
Am I dreaming???
To frigid-freed heartbeats, lover's behalf,
of mindless blind mute who came from Flagstaff.
Clueless inceptions nebulously grow,
Godsend occasion leaves the dark to glow,
sparks the light of life mimic frames of minds.
Emotions indulge past regret unwinds,
intricacies of distinctions arcane.
Scattered, detached, night candle burns the stain,
shatter separateness as divisive.
Emphases realized as decisive,
conceived borders we being inherits,
everyone shares their respective merits.
Douse not our embers, but keep strong our flame,
warm the blaze to a glow from whence we came.
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