five years after
going cold turkey on kajal
because it made you look different to others
than what you think you really look like

now,
when you put on dark brown liquid lipstick
starting from your near perfect cupid's bow
and finishing with your glorious lower lip
and draw symmetrical, sharp wings
like acrylic on canvas
and choose to look like that
for yourself

i am grateful
because i grow
when you grow

The sky was beautiful.
6:21 pm as the the sun started dipping below the horizon and the blue gave way to a bright pink and then a brilliant magenta, so overwhelmingly stunning that it could leave you breathless.
He sat beside her, their sides comfortable against each other, like when the sky meets the sea. Her hair was the colour of a raven as she threw her head back laughing, almost like a child. They talked about how everything looked so beautiful in that light at that moment and how they never wanted to leave.

The sky was beautiful.
12:45 am as they lie on the floor of her bedroom, dim lights, bright eyes, sweaty palms and all.
The stars came out, peaking in through the window, watching their hands make imaginary circles. They watched the moon, making plans of going there and building a house, an impossible dream they talked about in all seriousness.

The sky was beautiful.
2:56 am as it turned to black and everything was still and the only sounds were sirens and dogs singing to the night. His head was in her lap as they sat in silence, just appreciating their togetherness. She talked about her insecurities and he listened, pressing her hand occasionally as a show of comfort. He talked about his father as she watched his smile vanish and his eyes stare off into the distance and ruffled his hair, kissing his forehead, as if to make him forget the horrible things his father had done.

The sky was beautiful.
6:23 am as the sun rose once again, tireless and bright, through the morning mist as the sky shifted from orange to blue. His eyes fluttered open as he took in the moment of tranquility.  He woke to find her asleep in his arms, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs. Her face was serene, calm, and makes him feel like he would never love anything as much as he does her.

The sky is beautiful.
*And so is she.

The farthest man made object in space, Voyager 1,
is over 20 billion km away from Earth.
On board is a phonograph record, brilliant gold,
containing sounds and images of what life is like on earth,
A message to whoever is able to listen, a literal shot in the dark.
On it is an inscription that is perhaps the most beautiful sentence
I have ever read
TO THE MAKERS OF MUSIC
ALL TIMES
ALL WORLDS
a time capsule, a gift, from us
To anywhere and everywhere
A hundred years from now or a thousand
Our belief that no matter what time
Or world you belong to, melody and harmony and rhythm, can bring us together, can communicate.
On the cover
Are figures, explaining how to operate this record
Hieroglyphics from what by then
Would be ancient history
Messages in binary, the 1s and 0s
Our position in the universe marked by our distances
from gigantic pulsars, the star map to our home,
the creators of this message
There's beauty in this marriage of math and art
Code and music
As a way to communicate with the universe.
Some of the images on the record are
the most beautifully simple ones,
Of us, humans, drinking and eating, laughing,
of animals, nature, food and architecture.
Then there are images of our scientific observations,
mathematical calculations, our discoveries,
Like a child showing off
Look, look what I can do!
Black and white and in colour,
Pictures, proof that we, indeed have lived and achieved.
The music, classical, our very best from Bach and Mozart
to Blind Willie Johnson's Dark was the Night.
But all of this can only matter, can come to fruition
if someone exists to receive it, and is evolved enough
to comprehend what it means.
But that's the thing, everybody knows,
That's there's a slim chance of this record ever being heard,
and it's much more possible that the Voyager will simply end up as floating debris in the cosmos, but it doesn't matter!
We just want someone to know that there was a species of bipedal, intelligent animals on this blue planet,
no different than finding graffiti in alleys that read I WAS HERE.
WE WERE HERE, WE EXISTED.  
And it's all about that hope, the hope that someone will see us,
our pictures, listen to our languages, our greetings, our music, and remember us, even after we're long gone.
Or perhaps we will one day be interstellar space faring people as well, following the path of the Voyager, doing what we do best,
Explore.

I was once a castaway
Of an unforgiving sea
I made a castle in the sand
To ease the pain in me

I made the ramparts ten feet tall
The walls were four feet thick
I filled the moat with lots of sharks
I built it brick by brick

I walked the walls most every day
No rescuer about
But I did not want folks to come in
I wished to keep them out!

The sand was cast in hate you see
The mortar my foe's blood
I repaired the walls quite often 'coz
My inner tears would flood

Within the walls, a prisoner,
My anger was my meat
My only water my own tears
They washed about my feet

Finally the water rose,
From weeping, o'r my head
Their waves erroded at the walls
And the SEA was fed!

Whilst the walls were quickly shrinking
A tide, like floods, came in!
All the sharks went out to sea,
My destiny was grim!

I made a fine, tall castle, yes,
Of sand & shells & grout
To shelter me within? Oh no!
To keep my loved ones OUT!

And others unforgiven.
And the ones I hated.
And other prejudices, yes,
That went on unabated...

And so I found a Mighty Rock
Upon which I stood.
I finally found life's meaning, YES!
I finally understood!

Forgiveness? A DECISION.
To put pride on the shelf.
And freeing up your fellow man
You  become FREE YOURSELF.

Though for years, I drank my tears,
My thirst was never slaked.
And hatred's fused & melted sand

Does not a DIAMOND MAKE.



SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/3/2017

A play unfolds in my mind each night
As two opposing forces fight for control
The nefarious darkness assembles its army of thoughts to lay siege upon the throne of light.
Reason fires down from the compassionate wall
As the guilt slithers its way to the top.
The loathing berates the beautiful moat until the trenches give way to a cleansing flood.
As dawn emerges the enemies call a cease fire...to replenish their armies for the twilight to come.

From the darkened perch I sit
Wondering about that glittering golden galaxy
And if I can say the same
About I wonder what will happen to you

So I tried a new rhyme
To see if it would work
Sadly, it didn't

It clashed, it burned
*Throughout the flaming fires of us

I can't write what I feel,
Not even if I want to,
Accept what you get from me,
Because the rest will horrify you,

I can't write how I feel about love,
Or how I think that its all just a fairytale,
Accept the smile that I can give,
Because the rest will drive you away,

I can't write about my emotions,
Or how I battle with all that is inside,
Mixed up into a constant frustration,
That always puts me on the brink of going mad,

I can not tell you everything you want,
Just accept what you only see,
I assure you its for the best,
To let the rest of me be,