Singing Birds, Dancing Tulips

It feels as if a hurricane occurred within seconds of my life, stripping away my soul to a foreign land, littering it on a life-deserted ocean.

The waves of desperation washed over it, failing to drown it in that sea of agony yet leaving it to bathe in rage by day, shivering by night across the fractured moonlight.

In another life, that soulless body walked earth aimlessly, while the abandoned soul did not find legs to crush its fears with nor a voice to scare away the pain.

I remain heartless as perceived. Voiceless as it seems. Utterly lost whilst seeking refuge in whatever traces of joy this fake life grants along with singing birds and dancing tulips.

Drinking Tears

MORE THAN DUST

Wuji Seshat

Remember that, we are dust
Not arrogant like cold stone
Our revelations are social

And our conceits are for our blood
Heritage, prosperity and the like –
In dust, which suns have kissed

Unaware of reckless consequence
With floods to bury landscapes
And Golden Time to renew it all

Remember that, we are dust or dew
Not eternal devouring mind
But form, atoms, molecules

Grown up from crude designs
Remember that, we are fragments
Of a larger entity, collective, humanity

To think that we are separate
Has led to more than one ruined city.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Picnic-451051253

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When You Ask Me Why I Love You

Again, You ask me why I love you…

Every time I try to think about it, my heart is lost in a maze of ecstatic joy that drowns my childish soul beneath the seas of your  your generous heart, the perfection of your human nature, that humble courageous walk of yours…

There is no ‘why’ in love… you mustn’t ask me why I love you. Love is a spring of passion that has no source. Love is the one thing that too much of it does not harm but does continue to prosper…and I will love you eternally, unconditionally…

 

There is no ‘why’ in love

There is only,

I love you.

So I Played Another Song

Once the song ended

Silence filled the room

I was trapped at the bottom

Of a wine-less glass

 

So I played another song

And when it ended

I again found myself back in the glass

Only this time, it was filled with whispers

 

The whispers were not of my conscious

Neither were they of  remorse

The whispers were of my heart

Healthy, yet beating damaged memories

 

So I played another song

And up my soul has risen

Outside the wine-less glass

Leaving my still body behind

 

And off it flew

To where dreams come true

To where dreams come true

To where dreams come true

 

But the song has once again

Come to another end

And my eyes opened

To another world

 

My eyes I could not believe

Are the things I perceive real?

I let my hands guide me

Proving the glass unreal

 

To another place I traveled

To a world were fairytales come to life

To a place were the sun shall never rise

To a place were my heart will speak no lies

What Is Love?

What is love

When one cannot explain anger

When one cannot see beauty

If all you see is black ink on a blank page

If you, my love, did not meet you?

 

What is love

If a child’s eyes do not know a mother

If a child’s heart does not know warmth

If an innocent is killed guilty

If a woman does not comprehend dignity?

 

What is love

If I die 19 and my heart does not know pleasure

If I persist on killing people’s loyalty

If I lack a loving and a pure soul?

If what was once right is now wrong..

 

What is love?

I Say

-Reflection-

 

They say

“To forgive others is to forgive yourself”

But sometimes

One does not deserve forgiveness

 

They say

“Patience is the key to happiness”

But sometimes

What is lost is lost forever

 

They say

“You must make peace with the past”

But sometimes

With the past you’ll always be at war

 

They say

“Life is beautiful if you know how to live it”

I say

Get your c*** outside my door

 

————-

 

Sometimes I like to reflect upon certain incidents or conversations I have with some acquaintances, writing from their point of view. It serves me some sort of understanding of them. This is a reflection..

A half of a half

Knowing someone in my life who is diagnosed with schizophrenia has opened another door of wonder in my heart. I’ve heard stories and learnt a lot about what schizophrenics experience and go through everyday, which, to them is not always as unpleasant. I wrote this poem as a reflection of a schizophrenic’s life, someone I might think I know.

 

I am a half of a half

A schizophrenic with two lives

One in my head

Another in my house

 

A bit of me wants to succeed

The other bit just wants to drown

My life is just a mix

Of this and that

 

I awake from my sleep

To a deep sense of wonder

Am I in another dream

Or placed back in the house?

 

My sister knocks the door

I look at her twice

To confirm she is real

Not part of last night’s dream

 

Then I ask myself why

Is it growing larger

This one puzzle piece?

 

Time and time again

I catch people staring at me

In shopping malls

Talking to my fiance

Whom my Dr. said is not real

 

I look straight ahead

Reminding myself that I’m not in the house

Then my fiance starts to scream

At me, as I disregard him when he weeps

 

My eyes tear up, my skin goes pale

Oh if only I could share with the world

The breath-taking other bit of me

Oh if only they could see

Where my imagination can take me

 

I sit numb on my bed

My doctor said I can’t go there anymore

I should take my pills

And my fiance I have to ignore

I should love again

But this time someone real

But how can I love someone

If my emotions for my fiance are deep!

How can I marry someone

Whilst to another I am engaged!

 

The other world has more

More than what the heart desires

If you think it, you have it

But my doctor cannot see nor hear

 

Let them think me crazy

Let them see me the way they please

Let them tie me up and drug me

Let them watch me as I weep

I will not obey their orders

And in my head I’ll always be

What They Say

“You look like a princess. You act like a princess.”

“You are weird”

“Which era do you come from?”

“Why do you not share much?”

“This is life, you need to stop acting like you are not part of it”

“How do you live like this?”

The things people say to me…oh my Lord.

My Pain And The Stranger

Can you feel the pain of an ant when you step on it as a punishment for having its fragile body step upon  your floors?

Can you feel the agony a fish goes through as it shivers, yearning for life after being caught in a fisherman’s net for its innocent attempt to have lunch?

Can you feel the suffering of a tree as it slowly dies after it has been cut off for growing in the wrong place?

 

Perhaps you can’t. Neither can I.

I cannot feel it because I am not an ant. I am not a fish. I am not a tree.

I cannot feel their pain because I am not they.

I can only believe they go through pain, I can only know the source of it. But I cannot feel.

 

What if, though, I feel pain but I do not know why?

What if I feel pain but I cannot find the source?

 

The pain inside of me grows with every beat of my heart. I put my hand on where my heart supposedly is,…but I cannot seem to find the wound. It is bleeding. But there is no source.

It is pain that eats the flesh of the insides of my heart… and beats throughout my body, stomping down my veins, chasing my nightmares, crushing my dreams…

It follows my gaze across the vast ocean to where my eyes cannot reach, and digs loudly inside of me until I am deaf, until I can no longer hear the waves crashing upon the rocks at the shore of my wishes, hopes, and dreams.

 

What if that pain does not slow down in pace, and travels with me to every place?

What if beauty I can no longer see, and my soul drowning in fear, gasping for hope, is all I feel?

What if the doctor cannot find the source, and accuses me of acting it all?

What if I can no longer taste the magic my mom bakes, or feel the soft pillow beneath that case?

What if I vanish and no one knows. What if I die and the cause remains unknown?

What if when I die, no name would be written on my tombstone!

 

I wish right now I were not alone. That I am with you, one who speaks the language I once spoke.

I wish you can share my moments and tell me you feel the same.

I wish you can understand me from a glance. I wish you and I share a secret dance.

I wish you were here to share my tick tock adventures. To share the couple of moments I have before I slide to sleep, as my soul quietly leaves my body, as my imagination goes wild and becomes real.

I wish you were here to hear me complain and not say a word. See me cry and not judge me at all.

I wish you were here now to hold my hand. To hug me tight. To love me now.

I wish you were here.

 

I wish, that the existence of someone like you

…is something I could believe.