arianna-darshani
In my past life I was a genetic engineer. I am 53 and have not worked for 12 years. / / I'm not any sort of artist and don't care how popular my writing is. Yes, honestly! I'm just expressing myself and am grateful for any likes. / / Some time horse rider, yogini, Mindfulness meditator, pseudo Buddhist. Im a member of Mensa, though I don't put my faith in intelligence tests nor do I really know what intelligence even is. / / I'm wandering around while I age, trying to make some sense out of why we are here. I do poetry on Twitter but it's of no consequence. Happily married going on 29 years. My husband is a big part of my life.
Last night,
I held the ocean's hand,
It was soft and giving,
Nothing like the mysterious depths you described,
That body of water was created inside your mind,
You built her up so high, she couldn't help but fall,
Couldn't help but violently crash onto the rocks below
Now she's bruised and cut, with precious pieces missing,
But I'll be the sun that rises and sets for her every night and day,
and I am not afraid of what lies beneath,
Because she's seen my face, even the masks I try to hide,
I smile and kiss her cheeks,
She is 70% water and I will drink her before drowning in the warmest depths of her skin,
Perhaps the moral of this story is that your ocean,
was never meant to be crossed,
It dwells like a black sea, with secrets and the broken hearts of others,
When the night is betrothed to the shadows,
He does not betray her and seek out other light,
But you did,
And now the ocean is gone,
Her gentle waves have reached a safer shore,
and I will keep her here with gentle truth and love
The ocean isn't just beautiful at night, but she is full of rage and fury,
And at last,
She is mine.
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 11:01 AM UTC
some people never leave.
they're always inside you,
crushing your glass bones,
and setting fire to your paper heart
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 11:01 AM UTC
Gout.
I have heard of this obscure disease
Maybe in a Dicken's Novel once
A disease of indolence and wealth
Of red meat and alcohol
Of excruciating pain with no cure.
It winds up being in
The top ten most excruciating conditions
And my husband of 28 years has it big time
We are neither indolent or lazy
We don't drink hardly at all
We have almost no risk factors
Now this gout is chronic
Driving my husband from sleep
To the ER at 3 am this morning
Try prednisone this time. Sigh.
Aging is not fun
There is something as bizarre
As chronic gout
Who would ever guess
Such a weird thing
When you are 25?
I feel entirely powerless to help
Other than to pick up the slack
Do more chores,
Bring him pillows or an ice pack.
Enjoy your youth because
We are feeling it at only 53
The Buddha says we will all suffer
We all become older.
We all get sick
We all die
The mastery lies
In having pain, without it
Turning into suffering
But you can meditate a lifetime
On one koan
And still never achieve
Liberation.
When I was young I took it for granted
Smooth muscles gliding past each other
Tolerance for imperfect situations
And a general ease about life.
If I had to do it over again
I would have appreciated
My youth more than I did
Now that it is gone, it is most
Revered,
like the Buddha.
Maybe next lifetime
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
it's getting scarier by the HOUR
OUR world will never see PEACE
PIECE by piece we're overpowered
overpowering us as our fears increase
we sit idle as hatred BREWS
BRUISED by the war torn SCENE
SEEN as only pawns to lose
losing all of our hopes and dreams
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
some people already have a view, a light over the horizon.
their feet are dipped into an ocean that holds many of their secrets,
but they become bored with the mundane & seek more meaning to their existence.
perhaps someone else's ocean will taste differently.
perhaps they'll finally learn how to swim.
willing hearts & open hands accept these travelers because maybe they're an adventurer just like me.
but really they're just passing through.
they only want to experience new flavors, to swim in unknown seas.
they need to escape but they'll never leave.
cowards perhaps, to temporarily give up the comfort of the river and sink into the oceans' depths.
but the ocean is not quiet & neither is the wind.
she will shred your sails & sink your ship.
she will not forget how you stirred her waves into a tsunami and left her there to drown.
when the night becomes indifferent, seek change first within yourself.
you will never find light in another if you do not love your own hands.
do not take arms you know you will eventually let go of.
do not awaken hearts you cannot call your home.
and so we go on. and the ocean waits alone, for the next light on the horizon.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
maybe yours would be hands that stay
or your eyes, stars that won't burn out
maybe your waves would keep reaching,
instead of relentlessly leaving the shore
but i have said goodbye to parts of myself
and i know they'll never come back
the parts that love
the pieces that trust
they lay here shattered and broken
and i can't let anything close
because i am made entirely of ruins
and i destroy all that i touch
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
I've forgotten how to live
like a man on death row
accustomed to four walls
and the monotony of routine
waiting for the inevitable
yet still I hold out for the miracle
some dna evidence that this is all a mistake
that there is something waiting for me
and that this death will give way
to pastures full of sheep
waiting for the shepherd to return
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
there is a tall boy living inside my chest
he is the fingerprints all over my memories
he's why i stand at the edge of this cliff,
and why the view burns my lungs
he is the reason i breathe
and the reason i can't
he is the answer to every question
and why i'm always asking more
he is the mist hovering over the ocean,
sometimes i can't see him
but i know he's always there
he is the reason i feel small
and why my hands can touch the sky
he is the tall boy living inside my chest
and even death will not take him away
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
fall in love with a boy
who makes the world spin a little slower,
but still holds onto your hands
as if life were his final dance
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
sometimes i go outside
i look at the sky
and wonder
will i ever see your face
the wind kisses my skin
gently blowing lace from my shoulder
and i can't tell you
how many times
i've imagined it's your hands
sometimes i go outside
to undress with the sky & the stars
and every time i do
i hope the night has come,
and he is watching
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC