Category Archives: Free-Flow

Hope

I blame no one for succumbing to nostalgia

It’s a temptation I find near-impossible to bear

In the past, our world was a utopia

And we lived without any worry or care

Now I’m marooned in the present

Alone

In an inner civil war, repelling self-pity, as self love remains absent

Like falling in love is a sin for which I must atone

So I look to the future

Unsure

But I know that in time and letting go lies my cure

Then I can be wholly myself again; till then, I endure.

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Crossroads

Do you feel the world stop?

Has your mind been set on fire?

Can you feel your heart, your breathing stop?

As you feel every effort you made, expire?

Do you see the death of a dream?

Open your eyes.

Do you regret the forced disbanding of our team?

No matter; let’s say our goodbyes.

Do you feel it?

Drops of sweat, or liquid fears.

Maybe lust’s waterfall; how I loved to taste it.

No, it’s your heart’s rainfall. It’s called tears.

They will dry out, leaving tracks, sensations like a breeze on your skin.

Zephryean, teasing you with scents of the love we made.

You feel the loss of your soul-twin,

But will persevere with time, as all things fade.

So my darling, advance.

Don’t look back.

Make your peace; life is at the mercy of chance.

Endure,

Or don’t. Only you can decide if there’s a turning back.

Never will you find contentment if you remain unsure.


Hallucinations

The sun sets, and twilight appears, heralding the ascendancy of night.

That is what you are to me. Shadow of my heart: neither light nor dark, but a part of and apart from both. You are the grey, the ghost that haunts the sub-rosa world of my mind. You are that phantom that I can almost see in the corners of my eyes as I turn.

As darkness falls, I see that I am truly possessed.

You rule my memories, pulling me into the past. I can still feel the pain in the scars your touches and bites gave me. I must confess that despite myself, I relish it. Reality and fantasies blur in the wounds you inflicted, and I’ve been swept away, like flotsam in a maelstrom of love and hate for you.

There is a tai-fung behind my smile.

I have been devoured by you.

And then discarded. I sought an escape in sleep, but even that was denied me. My dreams have been your playground, and you are a terrible child, my darling. One would think that you’d discard a toy after you have broken it……

And so, I must exorcise you.

You pierce the fabric that separates my mind and body, connected to me through that part of me that I left behind with you, as if you have a voodoo doll. You are therefore at the back of my mind, like an alter-ego, or a manifestation of my sins, Your presence is a possible penance, and I will not lose, to myself or you.

Then I will be free.

Birds with broken wings can and will still fly again. This hurricane I’m in is but a thermal updraft, and I am a phoenix. Stay in the past, demon-goddess, where you can be forgotten in the back of my mind.

Inspired by DVSN’s “Hallucinations”.


Fire & Desire

Can you see it?

Who thought that the flame you carried within you would burn me? You torched my icy heart to powder. I am nothing but ashes, sand in the desert that is your life.

This is our song of ice and fire.

This is our snow. This is our dragon. We both will never give in. We want it all….even at the very cost of ourselves. That in itself is the  point. We get it, and it is our undoing. We consume ourselves while simultaneously, and unhealthily, give ourselves life. We are the snow dragon of Russia.

Poisoned Ouroboros.

There is no god out of this machine, as the god you call love died eons ago. What burns so brightly, defiantly, sadly, is an echo, a reminder of what could be, but will never be attained. We have gone too far, giving up the very thing we sought at the beginning.

Lightning strikes the Kalahari where my heart resides; I dream of rain.

And what i see is a sun goddess. Amaterasu. I am of the night, my darling. I must look away. Yet, you force my eyes open, to behold you in your blazing glory. Do you not know that the world will burn in eternal flames without the cool of darkness to offset it?

Let me go.

*Inspired by listening to Drake’s “Fire & Desire”


Temptation

I am trouble.

You tell me that you need to run away from me, even as you walk towards me. All I do is smile like I’m the Mona Lisa. I look forward to seeing what you will do.

I am a problem.

You tell me that I’m bad for your health, as you rub my beard. I like it, but will not tell you to continue or not. This is your show; direct this play as you deem fit.

I am dangerous.

You’re confused, swinging on a mental pendulum between safety and lust, common sense and hubris, contentment and greed. Do you dare? I must confess that I enjoy watching you exchange your clothes for risks.

But I will not be to blame.

I am simply a tool that you will use and discard. Don’t hurt yourself.


The Twelfth Day: Nene

Who am I?

 

I stall and stall because I don’t know what to say. It’s not because I lack the words, because I don’t. Or I do. But only because they have refused to leave my hands and flow onto the white sheet in front of me.

But I know I have to write anyway, so I relax and I let the words flow.

 

“One day you see a strange little girl look at you”

 

I’m that strange little girl, looking at you. The one with the wide innocent eyes and the thirst for knowledge. The one that smiles like she’s the only one in the world with joy in her heart. The one with the fairy voice, that one.

 

I am a woman.

His woman.

 

Whole. Complete. Imperfect. Aware. Honest. Wanton.

Collage of flaws, perfect in my imperfection.

 

Artist.

Not just a writer. Because the music speaks to me. The paintings call to me and draw me in, completely. The dance, the food, the pictures.

 

“I am arms to hold

Lips to speak.”

 

I am strong.

But weak enough to need support.

 

 

Naïve,

Sophisticated.

 

 

Fierce,

Calm.

 

Healer,

Healed.

 

Sanguine,

phlegmatic.

 

I am the song. I am the muse. I am the lover. I am unashamed.

 

I am me.

Nene.


The Sixth Day: Chioma

Who am I?

With what words do I describe myself with?

I am the artist of character; with what colours, paint myself?

 

Black.

For the horrors beheld.

For the scarred mind and hidden shame.

The loss of innocence.

The bitter childhood cynicism 

The mourning soul begging to be let back in into Nirvana.

 

Red.

For the rage that quake the limbs.

The throbbing headache; the voices screaming in the head.

The swallowed screams of fury; 

Glinting grin with gritting teeth.

The self loathing and eternal guilt.

 

Green.

For the envy, my sweet companion.

Wrapped in a shroud with tendrils of the poison ivy.

The mummification of greed.

Take. Take. Take.

Clawed hands, snatcher of possession.

 

Blue.

For the calm; preternatural.

The stillness of the heart; the peace of the mind.

 

White.

For goodness.

Like the Yin-Yang, even the black contains a white.

Little as it may be within.

The little glimmer of gold hidden in soot.

 

I am without name.

For names do me no justice.

I am simply Duality.

I am a contradiction.

I am a lost soul still seeking an answer to one question;

 

Who am I?


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