Author’s Notes: This piece is about the emotional and intellectual disconnection between a man and a woman in a relationship. The man sees himself a ship that the woman’s been waiting for all her life on the shore when in fact she sees him a ship that sailed long ago. Read more…
if you’re reading this, and want different results; then start doing things differently. Let your work speak for itself and that’s how you author the story or life you’ve always wanted.
I won’t try to fix you
so don’t try to fix me.
I’ll be me, you’ll be you
that’s the best for you & me.
Sometimes in life loss internally is beyond self-pity and regret. Sometimes it is when you fail to see what others are eagerly and vigilantly working towards destroying in you.
Drugs and vices were designed to put people through a cycle that has one purpose to kill as many people as possible over a long term we call lifetime. People will make promises, lies, pretend to change and even keep appearances but in the end the drugs and vices win.
So let your choices speak for you
in deeds that show the real you.
And let your shadow validate you
not others for your life belongs to you.
This post was inspired by the erasure concept where the powerful and popular erase the masses with silence, ignorance, poverty, and haplessness. We live in a tragicomedy we call “reality”.
Passion is a commotion
in depth’s ocean.
A serene ride
with nothing to hide
under a crimson
moon of compassion.
I am your time that is up
Your story that’s come to an end
Your regrets and words unsaid.
Your what ifs and maybes.
Your whys and cries.
Your hows and tries.
Your breaking point and last stand.
Your surrender and longest slumber.
Youth told me that love breaks bones
but time made me wiser with laughs
as Life showed me that love grows
into a companionship of two souls.
When umbers and shadows play, a peasant
blends effortlessly into a landscape standing
in the shade beneath a rust clay cottage seeking
shelter under tall carob and mocha trees
with draping juniper and seaweed leaves.
And so my friend you now comprehend
why writing is a track where the end spells lack.
Like a metronome’s pendulum poetry is a medium
that keeps me going down this track and coming back!