We are both Beautiful and Ugly

 

The sky isn't always blue
The dreams aren't always sweet
The flowers aren't always blooming

Some pictures are blurry
Some colors are dull
Some paintings are hideous

Beauty isn't exact
Beauty isn't same
Beauty isn't constant

Stories are real
Stories are captivating
Stories are enchanting 

We are wired different
We are tuned in to differing frequencies
We are all living together yet each in their own world

Everything is ugly and beautiful
Everything is clear and blurry
Everything is changing and fixed

It is just that we each live in different worlds
But sometimes those worlds meet and we call it beautiful
And other times they don't and we call it ugly

 

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ANOTHER DEAD BODY

No one cared about him

He lived his life on the fringes

Always just an object in line of sight

Never living in another’s world

He was just another random stranger

He was a name that cleaned up streets

Some thought he was mad

Others knew he was mad

They questioned the way he would kneel to water a random plant

His soft eyes would melt at the sight of a stray dog

No one knew where he came from

No one knew of his family

But in an unsolved murder his body was found laying in the streets

He was now a cold body laying on some cold pavement cement –

Sharing a fate with every forsaken bottle he laid to its resting place

sharing a fate with every plant left to wither and die.

Maybe he knew something most did not

Maybe he was the only normal chap in those streets

But now he was just another body laying on smooth concrete

 

FIGHTING DEPRESSION

The pain lingers on

You struggle to wake up

Your fears weaken your joints

you wallow in your misery

Then one day something kicks in

Something in yourself takes over

So you snap up from your misery and clean your house

You  do not fully understand it

Something strangely atavistic and strong in you refuses to give up

The blood of your ancestors rises above and pushes you on

You carry on pushing yourself

and days move on like that

some things are still broken

But at least you can now feel the rains and the cold

You still have fears but now you have the courage of your people in you

Then one day something magical happens

On an ordinary day like any day

You see a flower sprout on a concrete floor and you smile

Because on that day you see yourself in that tiny fragile little sprout

Fragile yet full of strength. You managed to save yourself

 

 

 

PLAYING CHILD

 

In my mind I saw things more twisted and vividly

 

I saw beautiful doorways covered in pink

Linen and beyond them was a dirty naked

Child dancing in blue rainwater with a

Broad smile on his face showing a glimpse

Of his yellow teeth

 

My Untitled Elegy

The will of force my mother had,
And is with her still,
That courage she no longer needs
And I do but don’t have

I now treasure your name above every other
Steel from an iron field
Voices mourned the stars
A rare beauty from the southern Valleys

Your stern gentle comforting words
The grey hair like a polished mane
Touch that melted and moulded
The red in the brown of your eyes

I treasure your name above all else
I whisper it in the wind and it comes back
I close my eyes and your face flashes
I’d give more than I care for the chance to hear your voice again

A Dancing Child

In my mind I saw things twisted and more vividly

 

I saw beautiful doorways covered in pink

Linen and beyond them was a dirty naked

Child dancing in blue rainwater with a

Broad smile on his face showing a glimpse

Of his yellow teeth

Elections

 

I dosed off to a sterile voice on the radio and was only awaken by cheering voices

 

The radio was playing

We were all rooting for the other party to win

Power had gone – for reasons that did not make sense

We had made a kind of a circle around a brazier with our father holding the radio in his left hand

It was dark but I could make out the hand and facial expressions of everyone

Our brother had been tallying the votes as the voice on the radio kept announcing

We were a few moments away to running outside in the cold or sleeping with emptiness

Our hearts did not pray to the gods, they hoped the voice on the radio would cheer us up

The night was especially beautiful that night

Fresh air kept coming our way

The stars were dimmed by the brightness of the full yellow moon that hang over our heads

We could hear sounds of barking dogs in the distance

Chickens and rabbits had slept off at that time

The brutal sterile voice on the radio kept mentioning numbers non-stop

For one reason or the other I was woken up by noises outside

I had dozed off

The sun was out already

No one was home

I could hear cheerful voices and happy loud music

Car sirens could be sound even few seconds

I didn’t know if we had won or the other party had carried the day

 

THIS TOWN

I felt the rage of a burning sun in my belly and the sadness of a cold moon in my heart.

 

Sometimes we get false alarms

We become overwhelmed

We think we can do anything

 

This city creates such a buzz in man

It makes one believe that anything is possible

It gives you a ceaseless buzz

 

This city has a way of supping the energy from you

This city has a way of making one relentless

The night life and the lights make one believe that anything is possible in this city

 

It gives you the rage of the sun in your belly

It gives you the cold sadness and loneliness of the moon on a rainy day

Yet people come to this haunted city every day seeking to uncover its mysteries

 

I am an Empath

I find it difficult to explain that I find comfort in loneliness. I enjoy and thrive in times of pain and sorrow

 

I am an empath

I become alive in moments of great emotions

I am an empath

I die every time I become I alive

I am an empath

I feel all the pain and all the sadness and happiness

I am an empath

I desire to die inside to be alive

I am an empath

I able to feel what you are feeling

I am an empath

I am tired and weak most times

I am an empath

I cannot run nor escape from it

I am an empath

I am good with children and animals

I am an empath

I am able to relate to an artist through their art

I am an empath

I carry the feelings of everything and everyone with me

I am an empath

I am a hive of secrets and bundle of hidden joys

I am an empath

I have a special connection with the misunderstood

I am an empath

I am friends with stray dogs and cats

I am an empath

Spare me a good thought and a beautiful story

 

 

Mirrors and Faces

  • Within my soul I found a demon. Instead of killing it I kept torturing it until we both broke down and embraced each other

 

I felt the presence of a demon inside of me

I did not kill it

I locked us both inside

I fought it and won

I could not bring myself to kill it

I tormented it with pride in my heart

I tortured it in the most brutal ways

I looked in its face and saw myself

I saw myself in a demons face

I was the demon I was tormenting

I had more in common with it than I did with most others

I felt sorry for it

I was broken and bruised and powerless

I was the demon I was tormenting

I was ashamed with myself but at least I could still embrace it and wipe his tears