Zmiana sposobu prezentacji
with our fingers knitted into one
like a cracked verse
we stood in the space
between elegy and romance
our movement, irregular
like a rhythm unfamiliar
we stepped into dark uncharted waters
our shadows cast behind our lingering hearts
and chasing furtively
like the wings of dark angels
the sun succumbed
to the gloom of our inner tempos
our only source of light
was the curious desire to rise
from our eyes and
setting on this unfamiliar void
we were like two cubs barnished
from their only pride
torn, forlorn, finding a destination
for our journey's formation
it was a voyage to unearth
(...)
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As aurora spreads her influence lazily
across the scattered skies
she hatches first
the wingless flicker of hope
breaking free from the throes of dusk
that bears heavily upon the straws
that shields despondency
from waning hearts
she perches coyly
on this caked art of clay
casting a mirage
upon her tar-less back
with sun scorched patterns
like the fading presence of a rainbow
she is not like the city of heaven
paved with bars of fine gold
or sicily, tarred with crispy bitumen
but she also bears the dream
within the enclave of her bossom
the dream of different shades
and shapes of forging forms
(...)
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The Jealous Woman (For The Eye That Has Any Useless Time To Behold)
the jealous woman
woe to who finds her
the epitome of rife
she cuddles cynicism and vitriol
harbors a plague between her thighs
and cheap venom between her teeth
and lives to lose again
the jealous woman
her jealousy knows no bounds
beauty finds no solace in her being
innocence cowers in fear at her presence
intelligence find residence multilple doors away
wisdom is her pariah
the jealous woman
reasoning is her time wasted
her strides, a tale for whores
life in her presence is a constant diarrhoea
what sore wonder, the ribs from which she is made
she yearns for a tale
a tale averse to her nature
and losing always by ''the skin of her teeth''
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man has never really drifted from the state of nature. in this time, it wears the face of laws and economic control.
food fed by a known hand tastes better in the mouth than by unfamiliar fingers.
conviction without sight is a consequence of religious magnanimity, but in reality, it is the dork's apparel.
living in full existence
what is life?
some moments of laughter
the euphoria of existing
those times when three wishes
wished unending
when companionship is
the tool for growth
when the number two is needed
for a work preceeded
when those words come free flowing and
-suddenly a bridge-
when an opportunity to say goodbye
never comes
when across the line
a helping hand is benign
when loved ones go senile
and the heart is torn in shreds
without amendment in all life's treads
when those free flowing words
become arid
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In the moment
That VOICE, ‘roll out the drums’
And we ask in our subdued still voice
is it time to roll out the drums
Who is the dance
And who is the dancer
Is it your time to dance
Or to be danced.
The music, novel
But to our nature, familiar
We know but do not know
The rhythm but the lyrics
We feel it but deny
The shiver it sends down our being
In that moment
In that tranquil moment
When everyone veers from tranquility
We are scared of what we finally become
For every single time we ask
‘what is the time’
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friends may leave, feelings dissipate, trust wane, memories fade, but veracity will stand time's test even if concealed under a bushel or in disguise.
man is always evolving. you never fully know who you really are until you see pockets of you in other people, and you never fully become until you have explored the existence of others.
