They say that life is a race
If so, I probably have the pace
To raise your eyebrows off your face
But the demons I embrace distort my ways
Much to my dismay, they shorten my days
Middle class life riddles leaves me in a puddle
And I shrivel up under pressure
Till I lost the power over my will,
I had moments to treasure
But that was 8 years ago
I guess adolescence left me-
stranded like I never was before.
They reprimand me whenever I take command
Stretching my limits, my soul's a rubber band.
And all this while I thought I had the upper hand
But now I find myself lost in no man's land.
Xaviera Allan Mar 12
He knew how it would happen- the transition from man to beast
Is not a smooth one, it is
All of the synonyms for horrible-
It would make him a masculine creature to be observed by nice lady doctors wearing the shortest of skirts.
He saw a lion once- at a circus
And it paced back and forth demanding respect as the king of the wild
But only dogs would cower at the sight of his declawed paws and toothless maw
And the talk of the people was a more ferocious roar.
K Paige Mar 9
the photographer has a golden hour and i am envious of them

the golden hour is the period of time directly after sunrise
or before sunset

it is here where light kisses dark

it is here that these artists thrive

and come alive

it is here where they capture a magical transition


the writer may spend months in a stupor
searching for their next golden hour

how dizzying it is to realize that what we see is believed to be
more real than what we feel

when will the sun rise in my mind again?

One day I'm a knight,
and the next,
I'm a princess

Transition, Transition

One night I'm a queen,
and the next,
I'm a king

Transition, Transition

Or perhaps a dragon
at dawn,
and a fairy
at dusk

Why is it like this?
Why must my brain change?
Transition, transition,
that is all I can say
I stand on the precipice -
Feverish yet clear,
Shaking, consumed, saturated -
Overlooking the valley of the year ahead
Stretched out below.
I must somehow chart a course
Using only these distant glances from aloft
Which shall be revised again and again
As I forge my path.
But in this moment,
On this mountain,
All is still.
There are no words.
Only a pure tone
Ringing forth from my heart.
It is the quiet breath before.
Before questions.
Before answers.
Only this breath suffused with light.
Only truly being.
This state of awe.
This heaven.

I stand with the Shepherds of Wonder.
The leaders of spirits, hearts, and minds
To places within and without.
Those who can wrangle the wandering cries
into joyous song.
Those who can speak their minds
defending justice in word and deed.
Those wily leaders of sultry passion
who dance the pleasures of flesh.
Those whole-hearted carousers
who invite raucous laughter to exhaustion.
Those who know that truth,
however fragmented,
speaks through passion.
That reality,
however subjective,
is anchored to our place in all this.
Those who know that fear is the arrow
pointing us where we must go.
I stand among them,
Gathering the Pause,
Eyeing and toeing the cliff's edge.

Then suddenly
The swell
The stirring excitement
The revving
The sudden skip in heartbeat
in anticipation of
All future Loves, Losses, Silences, and Laughter.
The sudden idyllic nostalgia for all future cycles
Yet to pass into life
And out of time so quickly -
Future stories yet to be told
And soon to pass from all memory.
The suspense of the unknowable
In a race against mortality
Draws me nearer the edge.

I draw a breath on the outcrop.
Once again,
Like the Shepherds of Wonder before me
I find the spark to journey on
In the calm
Before the leap.
I met a stranger in the bus..a man in the black suit..and I seemed to know him since ages..took the same route as mine..
Ours was a unique acquaintance, it was of smiles and stares, words hardly spared..

But today, today was different..he, with a diminished smile, seemed like he had a taxing day to his eyes, he had the world locked like the pandora..
To open it was calamity, and to keep it all in was fatality.. but he was brave, went on burning his soul in the fire of the heist..
I always wanted to ask him about his pursuit, but I was scared of the explosion, he might endure his own Big Bang..

This stranger in the bus, the man in the black suit, who I seemed to know since ages now, was unordinarily restless today. And I couldn’t guess why..
Flicking his fingers, frantic, hasty and teary eyes, who was once my persona for strength, he left me drowning into the depths of my thoughts..
Oh how could I have even resisted, I was falling short of smiles..
Deciding to trade a word today, this harmless stranger extends a clumpsy mind, just like mine.. the troubles were little too wild, and I was compelled to listen..
They said talking helped, but we shared more smiles, words lesser spared..remember ?
The lump in his throat did most of the work.. While I got lost in his unshared troubles, i learnt something tonight..

Melting cold nights and rumbling leaves at the height. The swaying trees and the smooth slow breeze..These are the flaws of nature that are meant to make us feel right. But the evil, vicious ones, loneliness and anxiety, are our unborn progenies, and we nurture them with will and pride..they tell us of our existence, of the blood and flesh and the emotions running through our veins.. they make us pop and bleed, through our ears and eyes.. like the dictators back in time.. they eat through us, mummify us for the rest of our lives..
And this stranger in the bus, the man in the black suit..
I finally sense him.. He held my hand, asked me one simple question.
Why do we weep when we lose control ? Why are there storms and tempests inside our tiny hearts? Why do we feel wounded by the god damn loneliness that we create with our own flesh and blood, our own nurturing ? Why are we possessive about this poison that is freezing our blood, one cell at a time..? Yes, anxiety.. why do we let it turn us blue, kill us ?

I could only wonder, how smoothly he filled all the blanks. The blanks inside my gut. The blanks inside my head, the questions that he slapped in my face left red marks, but the ringing in my ears gave me the answer..

How easily could I let this venom out of my nose, with each exhale, I could sense the fumes of the blue escaping, leaving me with the spectrum of all colours but the one..

I see this stranger in the black suit everyday now. Everyday, In my bed, embracing me into sound sleep, in the mirror telling me that I was the prettiest of all, in my thoughts, in my walks, talks and mindful tirades.
The stranger now is a part of me, he camps inside me.. he replaced my poisons and demons..
And now we look out the window together, and smile more often.. the storms seem sorted now and bitchy anxiety sits beside me, not inside me..
(allow)ing sudden transition
is (the) Soul-freeing mission
blind the (eyes) of conditions
translate words in(to) vision
beyond looking we (listen)
allow the eyes to listen
Rosey Nov 2017
i Thought the fields were on fire until you Reminded me thAt it was just dawn
you took me to your graNdparents' farm so i could ride horseS again
it had been a very, very long time
but i remembered theIr bodies as much as my own
and you were good
The animals knew you like a god
all bent and hIdden in the light
we didn't get hOme till late
your parents were asleep, they left dinner iN the refridgerAtor
it was the only ilLumination in the entire house
i saw you in the faint, shadowy glow
Sequal to "You."

Please comment :)
Stefania S Oct 2017
the walls of her fortress
dripping with sage
centuries old
empty of rage

her gut, a tortured field
often ablaze
truth lies there
while battles were waged

kitchen of flowers
table a maze
lovers look across
not knowing each's gaze

moments of crime
passion betrayed
within the lives of the "normals"
they laughed as they lay
bedridden with sex, long slow daze

south fly the geese, crows never go away
the sparrow calls morning
the owl flies today
blocks of comfort, boxed and weighed.
Next page