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Zywa Apr 6
An imperfection

is a shadow in your life --

with thanks to the sun.
Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 3-7 "Abracadabra": We must live, I'm afraid, with the shadows of imperfection

Collection "Low gear"
Open to our inner desires
We want to find true affection.
Hoping such emotion is real.
With our heads in the clouds
We don't anticipate,
The imperfection
Or the human situation.
Before the errors
We frequently make.
We experience,
All the turmoil and drama.
We continue to chastise.
Even despise,
We tolerate and normalise,
An entire world of suffering.
In contrast to the vision, we see.
Do we truly know?
The path love will go.
How to have sincerity
We're not sure where to start.
Absorbed in the vision of
The idealism of the heart.
I've concluded.
Life isn’t what –
We imagine it to be.
The concept of love
Is stronger than –
The reality.
Always the dreamer
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2023
No view of sunrise
from this garden of delete

We are alienated
from your light, trapped by local clocks in imperfect time

Everyone after Adam is broken, and we carry it along our bit of shoreline

Braziers on the beach
in consequence of
the darkness in our hearts

Hoping either to be rescued or swallowed up
by the sea

my eyes are drawn
to two seagulls
perched contentedly on
a ****-caked lamp post
nothing decorative
lacking flourish or accent
a simple narrowing pole
coloured inexplicably green
with gently domed cowls
that gulls and pigeons
seemingly frequent
marred by a combination
of cream brown white
for all i know
it could be
their own faeces
in which they stand
or it could be
weathered and aged
built up and dried in place
for days
for months
for years
perhaps even decades
never to return
to untarnished days
perhaps if the bulb blew
or the lamp failed completely
it might be restored
while it is repaired
but there is no
guarantee of that
and yet the birds
could not care less
they'll pay no heed
to that which is less
than perfection
treating this evidently
well-favoured resting place
the same as they would
an unmarred branch
protected amongst tree tops
or a dainty bird-bath
amidst the flowers
of someone's quaint garden
Eloisa Jun 2022
I found my fate below my feet.
So I continue to tread gently.
Sobering up from the intoxication of seeking.
My light has never been lost and need not to be sought.
I’m breaking the walls I built to cover the real me.
Coated with anxiously raised endurance and strengths.
All the layers of fallacy.
My true nature has always been fragile.
Yet I’m toughened by life’s impermanence.
Holding on to the very meaning of life.
Embracing all sufferings and hardships.
Without losing sight of my creative and truer self.
"For more than 500 years, pottery in Japan has found a new lease of life through kintsugi, the traditional Japanese art form of sealing cracks with lacquer and gold powder. This technique of repair embodies the wabi-sabi aesthetic, which embraces the beauty in imperfection."
there are songs
in the anger
of the waves
upon the rocks
and the tearing
of the wind
through the long grass
in the plotting
of the clouds
gathering low
in the sky
in the droplets
upon the page
Brandon Amberger Nov 2015
When I look into my reflection
I stare at every imperfection
I appear broken, even shattered
All of me in bits and pieces scattered
From the lack of understanding and compassion
These human instincts were once in fashion
Unfortunately greediness, laziness and corruption got hold
Our society became bitter and cold
Where we have this need to conform
Too afraid to practice a passionate art form
Instead we are this predictable bleak gray
Just waiting to die and decay

So I say...
**** THAT! I'm living my life, my way!
Rama Krsna Jul 2021
this oriental rose
textured with occidental precision
desperately seeks perfection
in all things worldly

nature’s true signature
wreaks havoc instead:
in the rocks of the grand canyon
in a mole on a cheek
in the dried but fallen leaves of autumn
even in the scribbling of our children

embrace wabi-sabi
where wafting moments of melancholy
transform to sheer joy
in the subtle realization
that coexistence with incompleteness
the proven path to release one
from the chaining bonds of perfection

© 2021
dedicated to all the perfectionists out there
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