"failiure" poems
we were all born crying.
wailing, raw pink lungs
gasping,
choking, on new filtered air.
but maybe, we cry not because
of a cold chill
and fluorescent state of confusion,
but simply because we've been born once again.
maybe we cry because our past lives
will never repeat themselves-
no more grandkids, the splintered back porch with the hissing screen door,
no more ten day vacations at the spare house in Spain,
no more dates at a drive in, the 1981 firebird where the windows would always steam,
no handprints along glass,
footprints on the subway.
no more
"welcome home" kisses from your dog,
"goodnight" kisses from your wife.
when we are born,
maybe we cry because
in that simple movement toward new light
our hand lingers along the wall behind us,
and flips off the switch.
every painful lesson,
heartbreak,
first times,
failiure.
all of it recycled;
repetition that never comes to end.
maybe, we cry because
we have forgotten the words
of the song we know we've heard.
the one you once danced to
at your wedding;
the one they cried to, at your funeral.
maybe we cry because
we have forgotten the color of the ink
scratched on our past suicide notes.
maybe, because
we think the gunshot did not take us
to heaven.
but there are angels
and they don't wear halos and stroke harps-
they roam the earth.
instead of showing you the light,
they teach how to form the flame inside yourself.
we were all born crying.
and it is not from loss or fear itself;
not because our soul is homesick
for the house it can't recall-
we cry for the warmth of our mothers worn hands.
the new rhythm slow in her chest,
amber hair falling
from the foreign slope of her shoulder;
we are just one soul on this journey
body to body, heart to heart.
maybe we cry because
in that moment, we ourselves realize
that each life is, a miracle.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 2:21 AM UTC
*Me prays to thee, Oh Lord
To shine your light upon me
'Cause its been dark in here for so long
I wonder how the sun rays feel like ?
The cold has chilled me to my rotted bones
I've forgotten how the warmth of joy feels like
This endless failiure has wounded me to my core..
Let me taste success for once ?
Grant me the fruits I have laboured for
Bring me the mirth I have dreamed of
Shower Your Blessings upon me, once ?
I pray to thee, Oh Lord.. with my heart and soul
All yours.*
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
take pictures. walk to the drug store on a crisp summer night
and buy one of those old cheap cameras. carry it like you would a child.
when you smile, genuinely, take a photo. when you feel that warm touch of the sun on your face
and the wind tangling your hair into knots, take a photo. every moment
is so precious. keep these pictures until you are seventy three
and barely remember the names of the faces you once pressed your lips to.
keep them until "film" is an unknown word.
when love is coarsing fast through your veins,
wrap your hands around the source. squeeze tighter, don't stifle your breath. don't let
your words drop like anchors down your throat. don't let the world tell you
that you're not enough. love is love. it is not a hand on your thighs or the shaking afterwards.
it is not purchased in pink giftwrap. it is whatever you make it. and even though
it may not last forever, you can only pretend that
this will be the last time you ever touch. love infinitely and exhaustively.
never let anyone's opinions or decisions
put a halt to the pursuit of your own happiness. you
are the creator of this life that you own. you were born with so much potential and so much passion
that it floods out of you like rainwater. destroy the drought. you are free to be anything
you could ever dream of, and more. there are always second chances; every moment
you feel is a failiure is only a lesson in a perilous disguise. if you are sad,
do not drown yourself in your own despair. do not douse yourself
in liquor. do not keep secrets packed away in dimly lit corners. someone loves you.
I love you. there is hope in even the places that seem forlorn.
above all else, live every day as if it is your only.
take chances.
take chances.
take chances.
never pass up on an opprotunity due to fear. you may
slip up and make a faulty choice. but in the end, your heaviest regrets
will be not getting into that car. not kissing the girl with the beautiful blonde hair.
not hugging someone goodbye, or calling them to tell them you love them in the peak of morning.
every second is more precious than money can label.
stop dragging yourself from the grasp of your sheets when you wake with a sigh- rise even earlier
to see the lavender sky and smile because you're alive and every single **** day
is a novel anxiously awaiting to be scribbled down. grab his hand
and squeeze it tighter. hold her hips and memorize their shape. never let go. ask questions.
push yourself. live.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
Living without experiencing failiure or pain
Leads to a life of no accomplishment,
Is this battle over, or did it just begin ?
Frankly, one has to keep fighting internally,
The things yet to be experienced are widespread,
Like the stars in the sky, the large sahara desert,
Pay heed to your fragile hearts,
Otherwise you'll end up one day,
As a hollow figure given consciousness,
Unable to further advance,
An image of nothingness.
~ Umi
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 11:11 AM UTC