Soft lips that kissed in me new life
Troubles were forgotten in a glimpse of your sight
As you ran your delicate hands on my face
That was my heaven, hell within no trace
Curves of perfection, your moves and that grace
Expression of your love as we were deeply locked in that case
Words echo in my head with each whisper
I love you baby, don’t you ever leave me mister
You asked for my promise unknowingly planning to break yours
Unleashing this passion which is bound by no shores
You are my poetry, you are my desire
Nights and days of sex yet you still aspire
My love can’t die for you but I will try
You have passed on waiting so I don’t want you to cry.
Mask of Illusion
Liars, Liars all are liars;
Walking, talking and deceiving criers;
Outsiders and insiders conspire with desire;
All masked men in this world are misfires,
Victim of lies are, they, themselves,
Pricing their hearts at cheaper than self,
Guided by lust, always defending oneself,
Friendly faces, with hate pilled in their shelf.
You are a liar, I am a liar,
Disappointed with destiny’s barbed wire,
Liars, Liars all are liars;
Walking, talking and deceiving criers;
Blowing wind, why challenge me to find the strength within, of which I am unaware?
As I walk the path of no paths, there is a voice within which guides me. It is foreign yet it is not. It is there unmoved and strong, yet we can’t communicate.
Within this pollution of noise, it tends to get lost from time to time but right before I make a decision it reappears. The more I listen to it, stronger it gets. Maybe it is me who is getting stronger to be able to hear it.
This so called WILL; which makes me vulnerable to my desires, is what love is all about. The choice to love is given by my beloved as it contains both my weakness and strength.
It gives me ecstasy as it pulls me away from this maze of illusion, for it is my heaven. When I return I am left bewildered with the concept of reality. There is but one truth and I am in love with it.
Fill my desires with your temptations,
Allow me to be one with you.
Free me, my beloved, of this agony
As there is nothing, there is nothing but you.
I seek no more of these illusions, for I am tired
Tease me not with patience for I burn in desire.
Do you not see my longing?
Worthy am I not?
Rescue me from this illusion, oh beloved
for I am nothing but love.
Gift of love through which WILL was born
I choice to relinquish it within you
There is nothing left of me to collect
As you are my strength and my reality…
Possessions we seek,
Prison which creates,
Limiting ourself to
Decisions to make.
Tick tock tick tock, is this what you call time,
Love, lust, or desire is that what you call time?
I sit on the same place watching pass by time.
My spot, my moon, my air, my life.. everything is mine.
I shed as I grow, then what is really mine?
You and I are one, but you claim it to be mine,
Yours mine, mine yours everything is fine.
Logic reasoning and faith as long as it is in this time.
Lose this hope of possession within this time,
Time is an illusion, just as the claim of everything is mine.
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation..
Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by
describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and colour of the world outside.The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every colour and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this pictures que scene.One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.
Although the other man could not hear the band – he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days, weeks and months passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.
She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window besides the bed.
It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.
The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, ‘Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.’
There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can’t buy.
‘Today is a gift, that is why it is called The Present .’
The origin of this letter is unknown.
State of Rebellion:
Knowing right from wrong, knowing the structured parterns, knowing the consequences of ones actions; a man still wishes upon himself choices; willingly, wishfully, and joyfully, that can be stupid, harmful or completely idiotic.
It makes me wonder why would a man choice to burn himself, destroy his own property or bring about hardship on himself. What has evolved him into such an illogical creature, or are these actions really logical?
After thorough analysis, I came to an understanding that this might be a way of establishing our right to choose, regardless how harmful or idiotic the decision may seem. To prove to ourselves or the ego that we are in control, and are not some programmed robots that are following sequences of logic commands. In order to do that, we feel the urge to break from normal state of being; to violate the moral engineering of others and the society to feel the freedom of making a choice; to bring about beautiful chaos of humanity, which we think being alive is all about; all to just satisfy our ego that we indeed are in control. While we fail to realise that such actions brought about are function of deeper sea of shadow which lies within and most of the times are not part of the conscious state. Do we do this because we indeed are not fully in control of ourselves?
From time to time one seeks to break their chains of being controlled with drugs or alcohol, to enjoy losing the mind for a while, to let go in the surge of energy when they are full of themselves. Such state can be observed in political rallies marching towards a house of law, against the BOSS MAN; within music festivals, standing amongst thousands of people moving to one music; or being part of a mob. All of which bring a flow of strong emotional energy force of either: joy, happiness, anger, frustration, passion, or fear; and after its gone one is either satisfied or ashamed of their actions. Unsure of what took over but the end result leads to satisfaction or being relaxed. What are we, what makes us do these things. If we know that we dont know, then what do you not know? Who are we?
Is it the struggle between fate and will, which makes us rebel to feel alive?
We stay in delusion of shadows and do not acknowledge the powerful unconscious force which has the strength to take over conscious state.