Monday, 6 January 2020

Lurking behind butterflies



This time is not for lamentation. I tell myself.
This time my wounds have learnt to heal themselves and so I walk through a forest of arrows | My back is bent against shrapnel and my soul is still dancing on that thin line of in-betweens.
Asking when would the world beget itself and lead us unto paths of welcoming sunsets?!

My name is a house on the hill,
that means it’s on top.
That means my Grandfather emerged from a lineage of warriors. And yet I fail to win the fight against my skin.

This time is for bouncing back up
Building defenses against the roses of thorns
Scratching the surface of every experience like a DJ in love with his jam. > Pull and Pull
Search and seek

Deep in energy, buried in peace!       I’m all you’ll find, lurking behind butterflies.

Saturday, 23 February 2019

From across the fence

Events danced their way into the arena
In preparation of a newest member
Craved by the hands of actions
Documents of man’s consciousness
Going through the history of time
Searching the pages of memory, seeing mountains of greed
observing schemes of deception, multiple shrouds of ingrained division
Colors of the past in facts.

Fantastic sight.

Their diligence surfaced. A good sign?
Periodic show of interest
Unprepared for the end being sought
Worrying. Worrying without work. Working without wit. Witty without truth.
Paradoxical. Where lies salvation?

Bearing in mind the philosophy of nothing

Saying maybe yesterday can’t change, today
Saying maybe you’re unchanged today from yesterday. Tyranny on the freedom of souls. Performances of politicking.
Small boy on Okada, both hands, four fingers raised. What does he even understand?
That everything fluctuates
That allegiances are only for the now
That shiny clothes are celebrated
That thinking minds are left alone
Cold in the corners of inconsideration. Honesty, hanging from the gallows of sentiments.
Conscience took a stroll and has refused to return
Sitting in a pool of attempts
Efforts of a people sabotaged by themselves, what can they result to?
Prayers! Fire! Prayers! In repetition!
Until thy kingdom come!