For one moment,
I forget.
I am calm and free,
From regret.

I reset.
In the eyes of green,
I am hidden by trees,
Sitting by a stream.

Mind lost at sea,
I breathe.

Finally.

For one moment,
I am truly free.

The first bite of a Mallomar,
Crunching like a boot,
On a fresh sheet of snow.

The sip of Ginger Ale,
On crushed ice,
With the squeeze of a lemon wedge

The smell of crisp Autumn air,
In September,
Just before the leaves change.

A puff of rich tobacco,
Rolled in Maduro,
With a glass of Scotch.

A salty, fatty, crispy steak,
Dripping of meat juice,
As it swims in steak sauce.

The lips of a beautiful woman,
Inside and out,
Pressing up against mine.

My fingers flicking,
Through fresh paper,
Of a brand new hardcover.

The feeling you get,
When seeing prints developed,
From your own 35mm roll of film.

A big, salty, garlicky pickle,
After a deli sandwich,
On a Saturday afternoon.

The palette punch,
Of a salt and vinegar chip,
From a fresh bag.

Looking at all that gives me joy,
One can see the truth,
In the meaning of life.

Little things,
Oh so grand,
In a world of big woes.

An angry heart,
A damaged soul,
Possessed by,
A grumpy troll.

A lacking luster,
A friendly foe,
I aim to learn,
What I should muster.

A canny face,
A polished mind,
A fruitful spirit,
A happy place.

Deep within her stare value-laden eyes bare
Thou liketh compete with disciplined man
Prim proper equanimity assembled as plan
Serve glory to God; begone any despair

Grasping thy reality of excellence profound
Access vast depth of emotion- drowned
Dangling medals reaching out to touch
Through tranquility, stand by your ground

He pushed me open like a book untold
Words of the gospel used by mean
Daring as His veracity He loved me as bold
By sworn duty, I shall perpetually convene

We trailed through the moonlit road
As I wiped the tears that streamed my face—
Everything was calm, everything was serene
It felt like we were passing by a city
That had long fallen to deep slumber;
Where had once all the rushing cars had gone,
Back and forth, non-stop, as their engines rattled
With much desperation, pleading to rest.

Step by step, we slowed our pace, feeling the cool breeze shying from us
As we came to a halt.
The leaves ruffled, still, and the stars twinkled brighlty.
Everything seemed to come together in perfect harmony.
It all felt quite bizzare yet astounding;
quite frightening yet calming;
quite gloomy yet comforting.
It was unlike anything I've ever experienced before–
Perhaps my heart and mind had finally been at peace
And that the turmoil inside had faded into nonexistence.

• ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ •
Who knew that what a known-to-be ordinary walk
Could turn into a magnificent, almost magical cure-
A cure for the mind that's filled with cloudy thoughts,
And a cure for the heart filled with pain and faults.
But what had truly made things better was..
Having you by my side amidst the whole tranquility
The entire scenery might have felt mysteriously unreal to me
But your presence was my reminder that it was all reality.
• ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ •

To live a life of integrity
Is to create peace of mind
The power of tranquility
A state of time.

My inner vision's carrying me
To a boat on quiet seas
To a place where I can be
To a place where I am free
A place of such tranquility.

That little boat's been torn and tossed
In the storm I was so lost!
Then I knew the deadly cost
Satan brews a poison sauce...
Washed away upon the cross.

Now, free of iniquity
The scales washed so I can see
There is no "them" there's only "we"
Jesus died upon the tree
All is calm on port and lee

I have true tranquility.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
2022

i was young back then, already into my last year in school. i have waited quite a long time to get old, so i feel like i owe it to myself to make the most of my advancing years. my mom used to tell me that life is a one-way street as if i am too foolish to understand it. i just wish i could travel back in time and be a child again. i just wish i could walk away from the gloom and doom of this life. reliving all my childhood memories by listening to my grandma's fairytales about angels and demons. how can i forget those days when the nights were so short and the days were so long yet there was magic everywhere? those were the days when i made castles and sailed paper boats when it rained. in the fields, where i tried to catch butterflies. those breathtaking and eloquent memories have gone.

i miss the days when i felt so carefree and unencumbered by the burdens of the world. i wish i could experience those days filled with laughter and joy once more. the hot sun and heavy rain didn't matter. everything seemed to work out like a dream. during vacations with grandma, she would fed children delectable cookies and enthralled them with fascinating tales. i love the days when i played with my friends and sat down by the bonfire while singing and dancing on the midst of the night. these were the happiest years in my life and i remember them vividly.

memories flooded my mind of those golden days of my youth. i wish i could go back and be a child again. i’m tired with the sound of my own tears ringing in my ears. i'm tired with continuously fighting my own battles. tired of struggling with challenges that continuously reappear. i am tired of remembering—remembering how i used to be so happy. tired of the blame—the blame i put on myself daily.
for several nights now, i've had to put up these drenched pillows to ignore the past because every time i dwell from the dead and buried, i couldn't stop whimpering in those silent mumbles of the night. those tears seem to be exhausted. they just keep on pouring like a never-ending storm. i can't help to ask above if the tears that i shed every night are the stepping stone to heal the scars that i bear. this sickness is still fresh, as is the misery brought on by unrelenting sorrow. it was tiring to drown on my own anguish. it was infuriating to scream and not be heard. the sounds of my own weep were deafening.

can tears really cure this invisible disease?
can tears really heal these invisible wounds?

because if this is the only remedy to heal the traces of the past—i will let them flow as if i would never get tired. i'll eat everything else until the last speck of each vestige from the past is gone.
tell me—how many seas of tears must i shed before i can see the tranquility i crave for?