Friday, 20 January 2017

stories...

Stories in books -
if you were to tell them,
would they be the same
as you read them,
as they were written?

Stories lived -
if you were to write them,
would they be the same
as they were lived,
as they were told?

Stories untold -
if you were to find them,
would you write them
as narrated,
as you observed?

Stories told, untold -
they have a life
of their own
no one can depict
exactly the way they are.

Story tellers
Story writers
have a way with words
that come from within
themselves - their own story.

since that day

You know,
since that day -
the day we shouted at each other -
(remember?)
I've felt misunderstood,
underrated.
All those years
seem wasted,
keepin' on
with this hope -
that everything will be fine,
we'll all grow up
into fine individuals.
We've grown -
we have -
only to love our own selves,
(respectively)
to take care
of our own needs.
Our selfish dreams!
Oh yes!
And,
with each passing year,
we grow apart.
Goodbye
I bid halfheartedly.
There's no losing
what never was ours (combined).
I've accepted
the brewing hatred,
bitterness.
The eyes -
they say it all.
Our lips -
sealed -
like our bodies were frozen.
I've often felt
the cold-ness of yours.
My heart shudders.
My strength waning,
I choose to stay warm.
Winter is faithfully harsh.
I cannot tell
if I'll be blessed
with another warm season.
I might as well enjoy
the winter's moment.



Wednesday, 26 October 2016

The fallen
hair -
not the last -
on her shoulder,
a light burden.

Will the blade crack
when the last one falls?

Will she still be standing
tall?

Her shoulders stooped
like her height were a hindrance?

Her steps robotic
like she had no control?

Her sleep lost
like age was a problem?

Her dreams dying
like nightmare had to win?

Her breath slow
like fast was a crime?

Or,
will her last breath happen
before
the last hair falls?

When Ego and Humility Meet...

When Ego and Humility meet,
there's no discussion;
only instruction,
resentment simmering in silence.

One breathing hard,
the other's neck burning;
one's weight overbearing,
the other's physicality shrinking;
one speaking sarcasm,
the other's mind clogged;
one meaning "I'll tell you, you do it,"
the other feeling loss of joy.

Their meeting inevitable
unless Humility acts.
So, the first scene unfolds.
There is pretense on both sides.
When the second scene is on,
realization dawns on Ego.
The third scene in slow motion
and then the act is over.

Humility is spared
Ego's bullying.


When I saw that picture...

Those leaves -
yellow, red, green -
a sign!
Some warmth,
cold invading.

Feet bare
no more, wrapped pink -
dainty
she walks
mindful.

New morn -
sunlight streaming
fresh hope,
her tea
staring at her.

The news -
no, not shocking;
autumn?
winter?
She cares no more.

Monday, 22 February 2016

one night...



In the quiet darkness
of the sad uncaring night,
sleep crept in gently -
unusually slow and late -
pillow its wet companion.

Saturday, 13 February 2016

we take for granted



We take for granted - 
the love that doesn’t hurt us. 
Seasons come and go;
come again, and we welcome 
them each time – shades of gray love.

image source: http://www.beading-design-jewelry.com/meaning-of-gray.html