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 Dec 2019 Diana Botelho
Mari
My heart feels like
it's about to shut down
from all the truths
that only I know

People view me
as kind
selfless
heartfelt
with empathy

Yet once they witness
my darker side
this inner demon
that is always
a few steps behind me

Once they see
the ashes and smeared blood
tainted within my mind and heart

I am once again alone
alone to pick up the pieces 
of a love that never was
Introduction:
The Young Poet’s Dreams:

I often dream of the ocean
Dream of the sea
I've been waking up to a longing
Longing for the land
The land of my birth
South of the Clouds
North of the sea
Not bordering either
But close and very near
To the heavens and the world

Overlooked by progress
But not by history
Nature, and life
I was ungrateful of having fallen behind
Though I was still deeply moved
By the primitive nature and land
Still fully alive,
Green as the winding rivers
Firm as its sheltering boulders
This must be a proximity to
The truth I seek
The timelessness I seek


Chorus of Epiphany:


Yes,
There must be Truth
In the unchanged and unchanging
Evergreen, and restlessly flowing
Rituals and rites kept alive
Thousands of years despite
Time, and the forsaken everything

Were the Truth and the eternal
Timeless, and the Faraway
Always so close
To home?


The Eternalist Dream:


Is this the source and origin of
My nightly and whimsical nautical dreams
The fact that I was born near the land
Of ancient and now lost shallow seas

Am I called by the truth, unchanged
In giant columns of limestone
Still marked by waves from near-eon ago
Though we can no longer see them
In Eternalism, the ocean still wavers
As truly as my footprints curved by
The flow of all objects of time and space
As truly as the countless unseeable me
Navigating through life and existence
Bearing all that is forever timeless
Unacknowledged for it is unseen
Through each step taken and each
Subtle yet unmistakable movement
Create a new and continuous ‘to be’
With all of me floating along the unseen

Yet
Fully alive and eternal shallow sea


Chorus of Epiphany:


Yes,
There must be Truth
In the unchanged and unchanging
Evergreen, and restlessly flowing
Rituals and rites kept alive
Thousands of years despite
Time, and the forsaken everything

Were the Truth and the eternal
Timeless, and the Faraway
Always so close
To home?


The Mythical Dream:


It lives on in familiar words and songs
And not just silently carved in stones
To be felt by the more sentient and aware
And ignored by those occupied by more
Present and timely tangible indulgences
Guided by the elders' tales and melodies
The distant dream of purer lives and love
Manifests in this child's untamed heart
Yet searching for a world different to
This mundane and subdued reality
Each stone shadowed with the spirit
Suggestive of a more petrified golem
Granted by even a hint of heads and torsos
Were given a name from myths not stranger
To a young soul lured by the allure of fables
And so an Eastern Stone metamorphosis
Of the Yi Legend of Ashima who turned into
The famed stone still standing proudly
Among the stone forest after being forbidden
A loyal union with her most unbetraying love
Burst into life full of every sung voice and color
Leading the way for the lithic pilgrimage
Of the mythical monk of the "Journey to the West"
They too live on unchanged and unchanging
Through every weathered stone yet standing

Through every named word kept repeating
Through every ancient myth ever recalling
Kept alive and from disappearing
In every child’s
Dreams


Chorus of Epiphany:


Yes,
There must be Truth
In the unchanged and unchanging
Evergreen, and restlessly flowing
Rituals and rites kept alive
Thousands of years despite
Time, and the forsaken everything

Were the Truth and the eternal
Timeless, and the Faraway
Always so close
To home?


The Human Dream:


Ancient tongues often remain unwritten
And even those like the pictographic Dongba
Though befriending my childlike curiosity
Still remain stranger to my understanding
So only vaguely am I acquainted with
The varied rites, rituals, celebrations
Of the people keeping alive the unchanged
Words, traditions, dresses, and mythology
Ever one with nature, the elements, universal
Some dance in the darkness with torches
Others duel playfully with water under tropic sun
Like my childhood dreams of a too optimistic world
Their dresses and symbols, from ox to peacocks
Remain ever hopeful, and full of living colors
Truly, what comprehension do I really need?
When the earth’s heart beats in unison with
Their thundering dance sung with bare feet
When they hand you horns of sweet rice wine
Inviting you to a far more intoxicating dream
You only need to understand and accept
What you can evidently feel and surely see
The unchanging and unchangeable joy
So pure and kind, that will forever,
Perhaps thankfully overlooked by progress,
Timelessly remain.


Chorus of Epiphany:


Yes,
There must be Truth
In the unchanged and unchanging
Evergreen, and restlessly flowing
Rituals and rites kept alive
Thousands of years despite
Time, and the forsaken everything

Were the Truth and the eternal
Timeless, and the Faraway
Always so close
To home?


Conclusion:


It must be,
For in my nautical
Waking and asleep
Eternalist, Mythic, Human Dreams

It calls restlessly to me
From my birth, through its continuation
I’ve risen and gazed upon the violently
Violet obscure and cloudy night sky
And felt a great fear crushing down
Upon this child of an ever searching soul

I was afraid,
I will never KNOW
And know what,
I did not know

I have felt something stirring
Yet, all greatness seemed
Unreachable, unseeable
Undreamable like the hidden stars

I loved the winding rivers between earthen boulders
I loved the rainforest sacred as its wild elephants
I love the stalagmites caves and the dormant volcanoes

Yet, always longing for an unfamiliar faraway
More moved by progress and not overlooked
I was never aware, until now
The truth timeless and unchanging
Though now slow uncovering
That was always
At
HOME
The Timeless Dream of Home
By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Sunday, November 24, 2019
5:53 PM
 Oct 2019 Diana Botelho
vern
when I woke up this morning
I had the strangest feeling
the remnants of last nights dream
lingered on my lips and cheek
it was a dream filled with chocolate
it was sweet, but also bitter
it was an enchanting dream
but it left me with an empty stomach
it was not one of lust but one of love
when I woke up this morning
I never felt more alone
I am a liar, I didn't have a dream like this last night, it was actually about treasure planet, but do you ever have a dream where you're just in love and happy or just a good dream and when you wake up you're happy it's over, that's just the mood rn.
 Jun 2019 Diana Botelho
rebecca
do you have moments, where you can’t imagine a future?
you’re lying there, staring at the
same walls
same ceilings
same words
with nothing but the same feelings-
empty and pale,
like there’s no reason to go on,
when you can’t even do enough to fail.
the future is coming, but you don’t want to be in it,
can’t imagine yourself in it.
where you just want to stop.
everything.
and just sit there for a while.
maybe not death, as that’s too permanent,
but something close to it.
when you can feel the rope around your neck,
the razor on your wrist,
the way the pills taste.
you can imagine it, and you aren’t sure if it’s what you want,
or just the feelings you imagine it will give you
Is this depression?
 Jun 2019 Diana Botelho
Samantha
The clamor is way too heavy
I need to elope to my quiet place
Where everything is constant and serene
I’d lie to myself until
My world starts to spin
And I’m forced to face
My absolute reality
There is a ghost in your voice
Haunting me through the silence



Through every droplet of memory
Dotting my otherwise starless night

I tried to gather them
With my words, my fear, my soul
And yet they remain forever bond
To a place I cannot reach
A being I cannot see
And a love I can never hear

Your flowering existence sheds invisible petals
I seem to be able to find
Yet, I'm ever uncertain
All these pieces of your soul
Did you left them for me to find
A breadcrumb trail leading only
To a chance in the future
To an uncertain promise
Or did I just stole the traces
Of your existence you left for the universe
Claiming them as something I could own

Should I keep them or scatter them

Or are they even yours
Could it be that they are the pieces of my soul
Still clinging on to you
That you're finally shedding away
To be complete on your own

What could I do
Standing in pieces
Holding someone's soul
That may or may not be my own
If they weren't
I'd still be missing all the chunks I've given to you
If they were
I'd still be empty
Because
I'm forever hollow without you
 Jun 2019 Diana Botelho
Samantha
Me
 Jun 2019 Diana Botelho
Samantha
Me
You asked me who I want to be, so here’s my answer:

I want to be FEARLESS & SELFISH

I want to walk above the ground
I want to give my thank you speech
And wear the crown

I want to open my voice
I want to tell them exactly how I feel
And not give a **** about their ideals

I want room to grow from a fraction to a whole
I want my world to revolve around ME
And be able act fierce and carefree

I want to be the woman that intrigues strangers
I want to bravely approach them with friendly banter
And have spontaneous encounters that brings on laughter

I want to be someone more like me
Inspired by someone from this site, when he asked me "Who do you want to be"
Thank You :-)
 May 2019 Diana Botelho
Dominique
I know the toothless women
Who crumple on the streets
The rain bleeds through their cardboard,
The cold drips through their feet

I know the dying children
With anaesthetic arms
The angels crowd around them
With time that burns their palms

I've hugged the brainwashed gangsters
With money drenched in blood
I've heard their broken weeping
While digging up the mud

I've seen the starving faces
Of the tired girls at home
The broken, hectic psyches
That eat them to the bone

I know the burning poets
With a desperate thirst for life
The need for finding soulmates
That pierces like a knife

There's weary public servants
Who risk their lives for good
And prove compassion every day
Yet stay misunderstood

Human love is buried
Beneath the plastic weight
Of angry allegations
And a world that feeds off hate

These people may be messy,
But they're beautiful and real
With hidden dreams and secrets
And ability to feel

We have a place to run to
With lights of peach and gold
Where all the weight is lifted
And all our tales are told

We live in total freedom
So safe beneath the moon
And though it seems ambitious
Our dreams will save us soon
The night brings comfort to those who need it most
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