humanity

Triumph over self.. 

The parchment and the blank space shall absorb all my postulated negativity..

And the smears of hope… Maybe it shall sing me a new song..anew answer..

With such an endeavoring wish tucked in my self.. Proceed I..

And smother I, it with my blunt words and purposeless thoughts..

 

Have I everything I need? And what is it I need and for what?

Have the people I love been cajoled yet? Cajoled by the time spent to stay on..

Why is acceptance a need, a need- so very binding?

Oh my… what if she gets what could be mine…

what if he takes away the spoon that could be mine..

To what end must it serve? to what end does need serve?

To need is to survive and to survive is to need, ain’t it?

Is what I own in me.. a shadow of what the other own?

Ought I to be better and different?

 

Is my ego to be grow on hedges and fence my crisscross ways?

Or must it slumber below..knead itself?

Has my own shadow darkened by heart?

Must my reflection in the eyes of the world be firmer…

Be colored in ways my self has not encapsulated…

Am I to be a master of my ego.. Or am I to be a servant?

To master it, ain’t it the same as to serve it?

Must I hide my faults.. must I smuggle the protruding black jewels into a dark corner..

Or must I smack it with laughter..

 

Why is beauty so well carved by symmetrical terms..

by eyes serving the proposed norms…

why is beauty such a need.. why is beauty so well sculpted in forms so well pruned.

Why must my beauty be compared and scripted and marked..

why must I serve a servitude to these very engraved thoughts…

To needs.. to pertinence with this humming civilization..

 

To be free from self.. free from want.. from desire…

Ohh how sumptuous..how freeing.. how embezzling is the thought of

“triumph over self”..

Ohhh..But how ensnaring to be turning in this cocoon of self..

spiraling..

but to reach no purposeful end.. desiring to be free from self.. and yet reaching nowhere..

 

 

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, answers, blogging, change, emotions, expressions, feminism, HOPE, humanity, Hypocricy, life, mindset, Moralizing, poetry, poetry on life, questions, society, strength, struggle, the mind, time | 2 Comments

Is there a divide between noon and night..

Is there a divide between noon and night..

A switch at a blink from illuminated to gulping blackness..

It’s a crest and trough..

One slopes into the other..

And even the light, it frames shadows.. casting into itself..

And darkness is luminous..Stars and moon adoring it..

Aren’t they two brothers, At dusk and dawn one brother embraces the other….

Light fades into its shadows… and the darkness pans into land and breeze..

Even as the moon seeks parting for moments into the clouds

Turning its back on us every fortnight..

Yet the dark in those times is blistered by winking lights..

 

Which side is wrong and which is right?

Are the two ever apart? Does light ever truly leave the dark and dark, the light?

Can man confirm his bondage to right selfless?..

Ain’t the truth mutable, driven by shades of human desires,

Which right must he choose and which truth must he drape his days with?

Is the light the true right, harmless in intention,

And  does it speak all the truth..or only its own ?

And the dark, the brother, shameless, without any truth of its own?

 

 

Categories: expressions, humanity, life, poetry, poetry on life | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

Do you search for those words as I do..

Why do you write so? What inspires you to do so?  

Which portions of your life befriend you to do so?

What makes you pick that pen up and scrawl those words?

Matters that pour nuisances of you heart and more so of your mind on the parchment.. why do you write?

I write out of sheer boredom engulfing my shelf life here.. Or do I?

The agony of a mind fanning its own thoughts..

I write to forge a bond with myself..

I write to loosen the knot in my bare hands..

The knot between bare hands? Yes.. the fidgety fingers fumbling..

Pondering what has become of the self I knew yesterday?

I write wondering shall I ever be that prolific dispeller of words… who writes with ignatious ..an unabashed flair…

From whose beacon of riveting knowledge shall I glean that uninhibited figurative tongue?

Fuse words of boisterous beauty.. Purging impudent purity … honest in in its picturesque candor..

A language of man… nature .. laden with no pompous substance but only the essence of poetry..

Poetry that peels the layers, draws the vulnerability in the eyes of man..

Shall I ever touch the hearts and minds lighter in joy.. foster the soft naive rush of unhinged emotions..

Fill their smiles with a knowing that these clumsy words indeed spell the unknown clusters in there hearts..

Shall I ever revive the light in the eyes of those men.. Lasses and humble beings in pain..

They who know not how to touch their own wounds.. barren for words..

Why does thee perspire to rise with the sun and ride to the time..

What in thy soul has life of its own? And what shines the light in the darkest corners..

Kneads into shape your empire of dust time and again.. kindles the fire wood in cottage..

Like the shepherd thee rises with dawn.. Hoping to find what thee looks for.. 

Stare at the mountains.. clamber the hills.. search for the  lion with the humbling mane.. horrific yet dangerously prideful and beautiful..

Search for the maiden who calls thy name.. search for yourself in the galore of beings one sees..

Oh..Why do you write so? Why do you perspire so?

What it is that leave’s your touch as the sun breaks sleep..

What is it that saunters in your eyes in the day.. haunts your heart by dusk..

Do you search for the man.. as I do.. 

Weave words like needles were carving scriptures from your mind onto this plain parchment for epiphany..for sake of epiphany

Do you search for those words as I do.. words that bind you to you..

 

Categories: answers, DREAMS, emotions, expressions, HOPE, humanity, life, poetry, poetry on life, questions, strength, struggle, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , | 5 Comments

The Ancient Tree

There is a world in all our minds where we know the truths…
There is a surreal freedom in our heart.. incantations whispered in fervent tones..
You are the godliness you worship in the holy caves..

The mind is an ancient tree…
It has been pruned by evolution…
It has fostered many a harmonious civilizations..
It has befuddled the world kindling the firelight of imagination..

Souls cradled on the arches of this tree..
Have fondled it, sinking in it…drawing breath from its gospels,
Yet infusing in it incense from their ruminations..
Immersing the grandeur of the worlds in the helms of their own universes..

Let’s tread on those branches..
That rise through the vines to wrap the world in glorious sunshine..
Let epiphany lift all souls to plow the sky..
Lets trim away those branches sagging with hate and vane pride..
Let free birds wade through the spheres sounding cries of triumph,

Singing..together we shall rise to swing on the fields of amorphous love
Kissing the winds with our words of brazen beauty..lips full of sauntering smiles
Ambient music of hope..joyous innocence caressing the oceans..
The depths of our soulful eyes candidly in love with all kin..
All souls dancing on that ancient tree..to the symphony.. Together we shall rise.

Categories: emotions, freedom, HOPE, humanity, INNOCENCE, life, love, poetry, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Grain Of Love

See life in what is doomed dead,

And a rose bud shall bloom from fraying petals in dawn light,

Touch the angst in another’s eyes

And thou shall be the melting ice on a burnt soul, a dreary night,

Dream in faith with another in his brittle might,

And a babe in his soul shall see the light brighter in every site,

Teach and re teach hope to a falling kite,

And it shall fly from one roof to another in eager delight,

Smile at the curious child in each one’s mind,

And find unknown questions, unlearnt answers on far off stars glisten the starry eyes,

Run along that little girl in the woman’s soul, to her fairy god mother,

And see each tear, each sear on her fore head dry and dull as you walk back at her side,

Embrace the need of each man, woman, child naked on the pavement, a cold night

And warm the city with warmest smiles from the forlorn beggared souls of our hungry times,

Find that grain of love holding together your own soul in glorious fights,

And you shall engulf and seal the darkening hearts, the foregone tranquil paths with fiery firelight.

Categories: humanity, life, love, poetry on life, poetry on love, soul | Tags: , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Mountain of Carcass

He crawled all the way up the mountain, fire crackled like an amber beneath it through the cracks,

Chained wrists, chained ankles,

He climbed on his knees dragging along the heated path, leaving melted flesh behind,

He climbed staring up at the sky, eyes transfixed far ahead,

In love and enticed by the devil that lay sprawled serenely on the blackened night,

Passing a dead man, a familiar face, was it his own?

Yet he dare ask, “why thee lay there? Hasn’t thee found death yet?

The dead man, dead eyes, croaked in a whisper “where is thee heading to? Hath thee no master?

Is your hell too sweet to live in and was your heaven lost before you knew it, for you head neither way”

“God was damned when he made you and me,

He resides now in my devil,

Evil and godly god each a wing of the fatale angel,

Angel in whose silver mane are tangled lies of a beguile kind,

I drag by knees to the that grey peak of the mountain of carcass, I need mine back”

Dead man smiles, his lips twisting into a wry crooked line,

“You head to the cave of the dead souls of the dead monks”

Narrowed eyes of the crawling man who asks “dead souls of dead monks!Are their souls in the motherly clasp of their god, or have they been set free at last,

Has their freedom been of any use?

Have they found the seeds of dead humanity?

Have they succumbed to the angel’s deadly touch, I have questions for him, she has my carcass, too”

“You must trudge on dear brother, I am a dead man who collapsed before he saw his angel,

I have no answers to pacify thy burning soul or heal thy scraped bones”

Dragging, and gagging his mouth with his ripped pieces of clothes,

Nude in the face of the eerie descending cloud of the angel’s breath,

Would he find what he thought was his propriety, his carcass, his departing fractured soul,

Or would he sell his brittle self to the angel of death and love, and join the dead monks,

I want him to stand eye to eye and burn with the angel in her embrace,

Draw her love from her stoned heart and liven the soft caress in her eyes,

For conjoint with her soul, can he find the answers of god and death, love and humanity.

Categories: answers, humanity, life, love, poetry on life, questions | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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