Carefully you cut my hair.
The fingers of your hands slid through the blanket of my head.
I looked at your eyes.
Filled with such focus and concentration.
Afraid to talk I tie a knot with my fingers.
Afraid to talk, I made excuses.
Afraid to talk, I tap my foot.
Yet when I opened up.
You revealed to me the normals of your life.
But really a surprise to this life of mine.
Fellow hairdresser, as I sit in the chair.
carefully cutting my hair.
With a scissor on his wrinkled hands.
Maybe I should be more open.
But I should stay closed sometimes.
Like maybe...a half-opened door...
just some thoughts. And yes i did go to the hairdressers today!
Now I ask you to join me
Now you celebrate
Not being me. Not being you
Only Us for the great
Some steps I will take
Be my guest
Pull your anchor
Out of the lake
In the room
In the building
In the crowded city
In the country with thousands of cities
The country shares the continent with an enemy nation
The two rivals are carried round and round by the Earth's endless rotation
The Earth obeys the master’s magnetic line, burning since uncountable clock time
The sun is blind to his insignificance too, ignoring billions of other star mates, it can’t see through
Immeasurable it seems, magnifying! All of them such tiny little parts in one of Miss Milky’s arms
Some light years away there they are: Pinwheel, Cartwheel, Black Eye, Andromeda and Cigar
Unmeasurable it seems, humongous! All of them such a fading little part of the cosmos
There you are
Floating from a distance
Feel the empty ground
Drink from the fountain of existence
Still blind to insignificance?
Still convinced about the rightness of imposed beliefs?
Still judging others’ defects according to our pretentious and vain mind?
Still punching away the different, protecting the mold?
Still reinforcing illusory antagonism and insignia?
Still seeing only two sides?
Still holding to the pride?
In the ******* room
Am I? Are you?
Let's try it again
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." Mark Twain
The world is a library;
each person its books.
Monsters gather together-
to choose one to read.
Terrified and alone,
you pray you don't get chosen.
You've seen what happens
to everyone else:
They read it, they discuss it
like it's nothing but fantasy.
They don't understand
so stuck-up is their mentality.
They misinterpret the entire book!
First they cut, then they stamp
and they put it right into the fires.
You pray to not get chosen
You pray to not be judged.
Others you should not judge, criticise
'Til you have seen the world through their eyes;
Know where the person is coming from,
Know the challenges they overcome.
For on you it does reflect badly,
It says much more about you sadly.
Makes you seem shallow, superficial,
So narrow minded and judgemental.
— The End —