striving, searching

meaning everywhere to behold
in a world hardly days old

diving, lurching

in a drowning sea of possibility
each drip a different plea

defending, upending

small bottles of water
preparing for the great slaughter

sending, contending

“mine is best!” i cry
and why?

Just a few more comments to an earlier post of rhyme.
Where I touched upon how I am seeing different rates of time.
Seems a man named Einstein discovered long ago.
That there was a different perception of seeing time in flow.
He says that if you are moving toward me I will see you shades of blue.
And while you move toward me you are that colour until you pass through.
Those who have been and gone will turn to shades of red.
No I swear that I am serious, it is what Einstein has said.
So I have my answer as to why time moves slow for me.
You are all in motion and I'm stuck where I used to be.
I think I already knew this and suspected it as truth.
But I never expected Albert Einstein would be my proof.

Head spinning
Heart aching
Torn between worlds
Like cloth being ripped apart

One of tradition
Speaking my native tongue
Wearing my culture
A dress adorned
With the tales of nameless ancestors
Lost to history

One of modernity
Pursuing the passions
That burn like a blazing sun in me
Eyes sharp, voice echoing

Trying to find day and night
In search of me

Have you ever faced the dilemma of knowing that only love can save you and then had your mind ask you if that is your motive for the relationship you are in?
If your motive is to fall in love can you ever find the real thing?

Lately, I have not loved
I have not loved anyone but myself.
The worry of wanting beyond oneself distresses me
It makes me act like a child in a world of grown expectation

Still, the look of his eyes made me no more than a little girl.
But the world is beyond playgrounds

And the pearl of my centerpiece
made me stand on my own ashes

There was no time nor pain in your house.
I wanted someone who asked me to never let go.
Not a spouse,
A full-time worshiper loved in part-time.

Once you were a given,
I’ve seen that I was the sun for my gloomy days
The sakura of my February spring
There were no more blurry lines from which to be rescued
and no longer giving what could be spared

Indeed I healed the heart I neglected when I left for you
And when it's cold outside and I need to be cherished
There’s no despair
It’s not love
It's only spoiling for an affair