Over horizon, in the dark,
transient allure of shooting stars.
Still yet vibrant moments
of joint within and far.
A vastness seized with eyes.
A million years of travel stories,
narrated each, entwined,
it’s not the ears they reach, but mind,
recalled and forgotten as told.
I always feel I know them all,
not memorizing a single one.
A portal gate, wide opened
to connect past with present moments,
events long gone, foretelling return,
tethered together
with a radiant thread of light.
By courtesy of night sky
offered repast of boundless calmness.
I fear to call how troubled a soul
must have become,
to miss this invite for peace of mind
addressed to everyone.
It’s mesmerizing every time.
Apr 12, 2025
Apr 12, 2025 at 2:16 PM UTC
The leaflet reads:
“Be mindful of your desires,
be careful
where they come from
and where they’re heading.
Use drive to drive choice.
Be the one who decides
before you join in
and follow along.
Otherwise
the path to your freedom
is then walked down
bare feet and bare mind.
The good ol’ valley of yours.”
Inside your own head, own voice,
while taking a handful.
Mar 26, 2025
Mar 26, 2025 at 4:26 AM UTC
Dare I tell a tale, oh so eerie,
faces go pale, senses are lost,
as knell overflows the hearing,
unheard, hair fall tossed,
blood brought to a boil.
It opens with moss and greenery,
hinting a shallow soil,
painting the scene peaceful, serene,
but the coating is fresh and thin.
Like something was quickly covered beneath,
the way you'll surely hide behind a grin
the grinding of your teeth, in just a moment.
"Why the rush?" comes a thought—
good, nicely caught, but no spoilers.
The deed that's done here,
spawned by a curse like no other—
It cannot be cured, and only endured
siphoning the life of another.
Cruel is fate of those who astray
and open up hearts to darkest of arts
allured by their offer.
Reading through verses of old,
they want to behold the world
through the eyes of their foul sires,
and learn from grim tomes
the knowledge untold, until they’re absorbed
and molded akin, so they, too, may sin
with the same sins, following the same desires.
Now, I'm really sorry, but here ends the story,
my gourmet hunger satisfied, you were most kind!
You see, I'm of such readers, I am accursed, and I've rummaged
through the purse of your lifespan for quite some time.
But this was much needed! I hope you don't mind!
Just please turn the page and I'm sure you'll be fine!
Mar 19, 2025
Mar 19, 2025 at 9:42 AM UTC
That kind of longing you learn once you miss.
Goes by a name only a heart knows how to pronounce,
and doesn’t hesitate to call when you care to listen,
so it absorbs as it unfolds yours every ounce.
Of all the things, it’s absence that can’t be overcome,
a void of crushing torment you have to sustain
alongside hope that one day it will leave.
But that’s like hoping for a night of clear skies
that guides your way home in the middle of the storm.
You might as well sink. As there’s no burden
heavier than the love you can’t give.
Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 11:51 AM UTC
Wave after wave, a playful gale flurries,
To the outstretched palm of Mother Nature,
Each tamed to a steady caress,
As she tends, lovingly nurtures,
Her arboretums underwater,
Where blooms and seaweed sway, unbothered.
An albatross aloft, above,
Not biting on wind’s game of riddles,
Indifferent to which way comes gust,
Unfazed, steadfast, like sky-held buoy.
Then blows my way, at last,
Someone to toy - I’m not as rigid,
And flutters my lips to swear out dust.
I fall for it so easily. Oh boy.
Oct 8, 2024
Oct 8, 2024 at 7:54 AM UTC
How many lose their way
in woods that stand in grace,
in everlasting silence,
like in a fog shrouded,
that can’t be pierced with eyes
and thickens as you stare,
so wanderers, unaware
of how to cross these parts,
their constant search for signs,
they fear they cannot bear.
Once felt led astray,
they pick up the pace
and turn words to prayer
with inner strength united.
A voice that casts its spells,
to brace, fight, and repel
apparitions and wraiths
that it had just invited,
to make a rightful claim
on what it cannot gain,
as it cannot be lost
by conquered trees and ghosts.
Then back to where it started,
to woods that stand in grace,
in everlasting silence,
like in a fog shrouded.
Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 10:46 AM UTC
The rows lie still, the hands can push no more.
Escaped ripples are catching up with the rear.
While you can set the gaze away from the depths
and occupy yourself with breaths and the sky,
soon they will merge into one blackness
summoning memories and spasms. I’ve tried.
Your watch ends as lights go out - just wait.
The drowned will be drawn to the surface.
Then they emerge: vehement, utter, now.
Their cries for help left with no answer
choke our own throats. They beg release.
Reunion with those we once held dear
only to identify their faces, their traits,
to call old sorrows by their name.
We are the ones who still remember -
an undertaking we wish were spared.
We close their eyes locked in strain, be it
out of care, or the look we can’t take.
A rescue arriving long overdue.
The haul to the shore is a trial by itself
but the final push has yet to be made—
to find room for love in a grieving heart,
where we may lay them in their grave,
and lessen the weight of anchoring past.
How would I know? And I wasn’t pleased
about it either, nor had any choice.
Yet here we are: stuck with heroism
in exchange for hope. Time and again,
for the day we might feel pure and rejoice
in our own right. But until then
back to the boat. It’s not a matter of luck.
At least you’ll cry less each try. I promise
Oct 4, 2024
Oct 4, 2024 at 10:06 AM UTC
Long you've been deceived
and tormented. In vain. It stands
open - you had what it takes.
At last, continue onward.
The final lock is shattered.
You will make no mistake,
no falter, precise and swift.
The way your grit foretold.
But be on guard and keep your rapt
concentration - your vigilant heart -
to close the trail with no lapse.
It's all you ever wanted.
It's all within your grasp.
It's all that ever mattered.
It's how you’ll stay entrapped.
Oct 2, 2024
Oct 2, 2024 at 7:34 AM UTC
Chants of forefathers ever enchant these halls,
calm the winds, steel the hearts of the people.
Each time the land breathes in a dawn, unveils
the toil of cloven granites and honed slates,
born of the struggle between two equals:
perseverant mind and unyielding stone,
a pursuit to cause, and mainstay of stillness.
The night that made them pause is almost gone.
The wait now condensed to a single moment.
A flash of acceptance for the unknown,
fresh ease brightening alike the dew and insight,
breeze of release from what’s coming, and what’s past.
The clash resumes. Opposed sides collide anew,
in concord of efforts, each playing their part,
to witness as one life’s storytelling might.
Oct 1, 2024
Oct 1, 2024 at 11:55 AM UTC
The grace of the divine speaks itself into existence
As we wash our clothes, mourn the past, and dine,
As we close our eyes and listen.
The truth sounds familiar from a closer distance,
A pulsating reminder to establish once more
That nothing is meant to last—
The restless mind disrupts.
Oct 1, 2024
Oct 1, 2024 at 10:58 AM UTC