#direct
People are not nice,
They can dishearten you,
But don't be like mice.
Let me tell you a story,
My story of victory,
It's after the accident.
When I was in the ICU,
Thought I won't be consequential,
But I disappointed them.
This young man is alive,
An ex-SBI PO, now a DRAAO,
Oh I worked hard for it.
Did not I, oh life,
I don't play the fife,
You know, right?
Now I talk to you,
Yes, you, the dejected one,
Now I ask you this:
Being a survivor,
If I can be successful,
Why cannot you?
May 9, 2024
May 9, 2024 at 10:40 AM UTC
Keep the focus.
There is, more to this
And more than this.
Keep moving forward
Jun 25, 2023
Jun 25, 2023 at 10:56 AM UTC
Can you deduce
basing on one’s
trepidations
and heartbeat
what notes and melody
complete
or
fulfil them,
precariously and intimately
decomposing and
striking?
And what sophistication,
what greatly mindless
analysis is it
when you acquaint a process/
surrounding/
issue/
object/
a person
throughoutly,
approaching in full
immersion like
the day
you go through
and not like going out
into your garden
from your house
for a few mere moments
that just make this escapade
a trespassing event,
without even looking at it!
What patient devotion
must that be to pay
for the prize of entering
its mechanism
and presence emanating,
even more
when that
“it”
is what your mirror
shows both to You
and your body,
or the sonorous car engine
driving you insane,
or...
or finally reading
the architecture of letters
of a Book
for the first time
in your life
with
comprehending actually
the story of the text
or the painting
that architecture gifts you!
And
still
what a horrifying
acknowledgement
would it be
if that
“it”
would be Life,
Time
or the World,
anything like
that in itself,
and thus there
would be no wonder left,
no excitation,
like living an immortal
existence,
a God that has gone
to every corner of perception
and galaxies,
has witnessed every
mechanism
that then starts only
to repeat itself
nevertheless
and constantly!
And
diverging from that,
maybe the reason
many minds believe
that Magic and Literature
as an apparent coming true
in our passing
are nonexistent
is that we restrict it
solely to blank pages
we fill with imagination,
to Child’s
“fads”
that
are actually
“freedoms”,
whereas
they are more
than possible
if we bear it in
ourselves,
as it was put in
the Kybalion:
As it is on the inside,
it is thus on the outside.
Like when I was standing
just a while ago
saying goodbye to the sea
in shouting silent beauty
of transparent words:
the beach to my far left
deserted
by tourists
and chosen by shadows
with Sun
and looming trees
all of a sudden
was more than verily
a shore
from “Robinson Crusoe”
or “The Treasure Island”,
just called to run and
peruse no matter
if something was waiting
or not
Or how now
whenever I write
instead of speaking
to a person
I do not differ them
by their ID
or biological data
and make revelation
of myself in the same
Godly, well perturbating
way like Pythia
and don’t care
if its a wise child,
a seemingly important
member of some affiliation,
or stiff standard model
in human skin.
It is simply all
multiple
constant Metamorphoses.
Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 6:24 PM UTC
In the throes
In those transposed
In my mind
through the murky
Stolen waters of thoughts
Blurted out,
Probably obscene
Cut. The director yells
Who is the director of my life?
Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 5:41 PM UTC
There's no reason to try and sugarcoat my feelings,
You hurt me.
The weirdest part about it is you convinced yourself,
By just not saying anything, and keeping up a facade,
That somehow, just maybe,
It would hurt less then just ending things finite.
Instead, you kept up the dream, the idea in my mind,
With hints, here and there that maybe things were different,
Taking up space in my bed, my mind, and against my body,
Tell me truly, how could I know that your feelings were a mirage,
A mercy to my own, by your admission?
Looking back it, with how much it stings to think,
That when I awoke with your limbs,
Draped around my neck and waist,
I smiled, and nestled into your embrace,
Only to know just a while after,
That it was meaningless in intent.
In fact, what cut me so deeply,
Is your anger that I kept you there, after the fact,
Cornered you in my presence,
When the reality of it is I laid in my bed,
Believing you wanted to be there,
And the fear you'd leave at any moment.
Reflecting on it all, it's peculiar how you speak about me,
I never knew that things never clicked,
Because you held me in your arms and kissed me so deeply,
After we broke up, and we're sitting in your car,
Or when you tell me how you want to run away together,
Start anew, in a place so foreign to us.
With each moment of intimacy my hope soared,
Surely that kiss, surely that desire to leave it all behind with me,
I dreamed so desperately that the fall in responses to my calls,
Must surely be an issue of conflicting time,
But it was an issue of conflicting interest, in the end.
Maybe most of all, the most simplest of all,
When I say I love you, and you say it back,
And I tell you how much I'd love to keep you in my life,
Only for you to tell me, months after our split,
That there was nothing really there,
And that you could never love me.
That's what really hurt me.
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 1:52 PM UTC
Wish upon a star that falls
Dying, as rays of light leave it
But is it really death
To go out in an explosion?
To the witnesses below:
A beacon of hope is lost
A source of light
A guide for those long gone
To the sky above:
A sibling has left them
One less star left behind
As they wait for their time to come
To the dreamer:
Death is beauty
Even as the darkness washes over
The remaining light
To the planets:
Once bathed in its light
They cherished its warmth
But alas-it is gone
To the star:
As the last of its embers
Flickers out
It wonders
What will become of it
In the afterlife?
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 3:52 PM UTC
I’d rather honestly
Spill my feelings
With my words
Than,
Rely on
Ambiguous actions
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
my raspy
voice is
euphoria but
revere sole
of she
that rejoice
with spontaneity
and invariably
my unrehearsed
vocal is
flutelike always
depict its
comp as
discretion with
a valet
in Wodehouse
novels indirect
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 7:29 AM UTC
Said that never give up on people
I kept looking through the peephole
They wouldn't change, unless I do
I hesitate, but what should I do?
Think straight like it's the only way
Side by side, pretending to slay
What offers me a lasting pleasure?
If it only leads me to the treasure
How can I be the only person?
To stay and direct my own life
Change God's will, is it a treason?
To rush out of here with a knife
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
Purpose,
satisfying, glorious purpose
swells my heart
until it's
**brimming,
bursting,**
and begging to
overf
\l
\o
\w
onto a page.
...
What
do I do?
Where
do I start?
How
do I direct this
bundle of
raw motivation?
How
do I mold it,
shape it
into a helpful,
useful format,
and
point it in
the direction
I
want?
How do I
use
it?
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 7:14 PM UTC
"I prefer to make love happen,
than talk about love
and waste my time."
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 4:04 AM UTC
I am, who I am
And made explicit!
Yet I am judged
For who I am not.
Clearly my arrangements
Inspired none!
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
There's no push, and no shove
only ebb, and flow
No condemnation from high above
and none, from far below
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 2:42 PM UTC
by Arcassin Burnham
Sitting in the room with a blank stare,
you have your whole life ahead of you and people
care,
Making sacrifices for friends that won't do the same,
they were never with you all along,
they don't know your name
Thinking about what your brothers and your sisters
did,
All day long trying to penny pinch,
Looking for a decent job is minus percent,
And you can't love a boy round here cause non of them are men,
Soul Searching is so ******* hard to do baby,
when you've got the devil running after you baby,
could you find the light and let it redeem? maybe,
can't i try to make you feel like a queen baby?
But the trust issues ran so deep lately,
you can't trust anyone , not even family,
The past has ruined your life in many ways basically,
that doesn't mean anyone can be the enemy.
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 10:11 AM UTC
So I'll make my 1st guess, my 2nd and my 3rd
And they'll all be wrong or right
But this isn't Rumplestiltskin
Just grim
No fairies or happy endings,
Just tales.
So I'll make my 4th guess, my 5th and my 6th
And they'll all be wrong or right.
But there's no clarity to be had in being cowardly
Just underserved charity
And that case just doesn't suit me.
So I'll make my 7th guess, my 8th and my 9th,
And I might just have had enough to make the call.
So send me down the direct line
The blunt knife may cut deep
But at least it won't chip away at me endlessly like the nth degree, the not knowing...
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
Such a common trend
I could've been daddy's little princess but you left mommy out in the rain
when you found out 1 2 and 3 were on their way
you didn't even flinch
but everything's okay
see she made sure I never needed you
worked multiple jobs just to afford a smile or two
and when she had to leave
we were never afraid, because she wasn't like you
I didn't mind your absence but why'd you leave the black & blues?
no longer visible on her skin but emotionally they'll always live
and truthfully, that's the only reason I resent you
because when your name is mentioned I simply ask:
dad Who?
see I never asked questions like "where is he?"
because you made sure I never met you
and at my high school graduation the headcount was perfection
now I understand why some children are actually lucky when they're born to one parent instead of two
After all,
what kind of princess would want to live in a castle with a daddy like you?
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC