how to care..CARE Choice.Ask.Recommend.Encourage.
But be fair. You'll wake up one day seeing that you are aging and you didn't do anything for your life throughout your existence.
Today, I'm not going to have an argue with you on how much things do we do wrong during a lifetime, I just need your attention, a little bit of imagination and your hearts open.
Think about this: you are a gardener. Now close your eyes and imagine a garden full of roses, yellow roses, red ones, purple, even blue and green. Think that the garden is your life, your soul and you are the one who has to take care of it.
Choice. Think about the choices we do in our lives. Think that you must harvest today a wonderful bouquet. You walk through your garden and pick the most beautiful flowers you find. Tomorrow you'll do the same. And the day after tomorrow, and so on...But there comes a time when weather, wind, ground, fertilizer aren't your friends anymore. Though, you still need to make a bouquet. So you manag
DreamIt's too late to fall back asleep whenDream4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Eden's turned to weeds
and ivy's strangled the trees.
I remember when we courted and I thought you
were like one of the first flutes, roughly hewn, and I became
afraid of forgetting the sound of the song we
Something has evaded us and now I
no longer belong here with you.
I thought this time it was my turn,
so freely stepped out of the blue and into the grey
of stormy cars and stifling London air of May.
A bright leaf suspended on water,
is due to go under.
My past life impossible to tune out
like background noise it is reflected in windows,
raindrops and metallic doors. Spices of home no longer around,
and sounds of the bustling street sellers I now miss waking me
up outside my window that always used to
set up opposite the rug trader.
And the coloured saris that belonged to my mama
I can't wear when my heart is in a cold place
such as it is when I am around you and so far
Reminisce A Love SongThese days you spend surrounded in a dark cave.Reminisce A Love Song3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
Candlelight be the sanctuary you pray.
Yearning for rest, begging for comfort.
No knowledge they know of to escape that place.
No key to proceed into the light you seek.
Cry out, poor souls.
They cry out together.
Trembling hands know not of their fate.
But hope be guide among such sorrows.
Joy it is you seek? Freedom it is you pray for?
Reminisce upon me, love grant you a safehouse.
Past memories written and bound in heart.
A slow dance to our favorite love song.
Reminisce upon a love song.
The Red Rum of Santa MuerteBones are blurred 'neath a blanket of tearsThe Red Rum of Santa Muerte4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
all the while I've been bored
staring at a snaking procession
of the Santa Muerte.
A pastiche of devotees stutter
out their cobbled prayers;
the red rum weighs down on my stomach
the drink wakes up the snake.
I don't share their sweating pilgrimage,
the shivering prayer
from their dusty feet to a gruel
of swaying hands propped up.
Bones are burned 'neath a blanket of fears
all the while I've been gnawed
staring at a snaking procession
of the Santa Muerte.
Their devotion makes me despise them
- that at least is my wish.
I am drawn by their subsonic moan
the subtle screech of trust.
A pander of jilting prostitutes
sway outside my vision
so does a gang of harlequins who
conjure up their own faith.
Bones are hurled 'neath a blanket of spears
all the while I've been caught
staring at a snaking procession
of the Santa Muerte.
Today is a fine day for red rum
so on a whim I come
down to a snoozing bar, wincing:
the snake is persuasive.
Thin IceClara Russell was exactly 105 years old.Thin Ice5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
To this, she owed not her good eating habits, or her lifelong exercise program or her synthetic organs. No, according to Clara Russell, the only thing that kept her afloat in the madness of life for so long was sheer dumb luck.
She would not deny that on some days she felt it was bad luck. And she also wouldn't deny that she had tried on numerous accounts to let her "luck run tough", as her mother would have said. She never succeeded, though, and maybe that was for the better. Either way, in the winter of 2001, she was alive and well.
Tilting to and fro in her rocking chair, she hummed an ongoing imaginary melody to herself. This was how she passed the days now that her life was ultimately coming to an end. Rocking, back and forth, forth and back. It was the monotony of the movement that made it appealing to her. After over a century of spontaneous actions, she now much preferred to live out her time without any surprises. Oh, the grandchildren
Greater than Juvenile HeartacheI wake up to a sorrowful figure whose eyes linger upon mineGreater than Juvenile Heartache2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A mirror facing the sun which refuses to shine in my eyes
Painful, nearly crippled limbs which refuse to function
A barely beating heart that has given much, received little
Monotonous days and nights blend in with minimal sleep
Scars blending in with the colour of my deep golden skin
No longer becoming a significance, unlike my thoughts
Thinking, breathing, knowing, change is inevitable and close
The only thing left to hold on to is a single memory
No other has held me more closely in their heart than you
I have never been loved more deeply than anyone but you
More than our hands would intertwine: our minds, our souls
Guileless, I might be, but pain has never felt so close to me
AlrightJust breath in; it will be alrightAlright4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
give the wounds some time to heal
just breath out; try to see the light
the same old arguement you have with yourself
when you try to go to sleep at night
while your hopes grow dusty on the shelf
(its a waste of your time, live out your dreams)
just breath in; you will be alright
give the wounds some time to heal
just breath out; try to see the light
your beautiful, gifted, and smart
but the hatred that you feel for yourself
is like a bloody work of art
(burn the artwork and learn to love)
just breath in; everything is alright
give the wounds some time to heal
just breath out; can you see the light?
even if it seems like it, everything isn't falling apart
you're wonderful and awesome
and there's no end to the space in your heart
(so don't forget there's room for you)
So Will YouMy dear friend why do you dwell in the dust,So Will You3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Do you think the world will wait for both of us?
I see these have been rather difficult times,
Let me try to ease your pain with a rhyme.
So what if you have failed again?
Tell me, so what, if yet again, you are beat?
Victory is a place you will reach,
Once you cross the stepping stones of defeat.
It doesn't matter how many times you fall,
As long as you get back up and stand tall,
Through thick and thin they made it through,
And I can see it in your eyes, so will you.
Once upon a time a young newspaper artist got fired,
For lacking good ideas and imagination,
So what did he do? He drew a mouse!
And then Walt Disney became a sensation!
"You call this comedy? This is nonsense!"
Said his penurious audience and his rapacious acting staff,
He sat down and cried silently in the rain,
And then Charles Spencer Chaplin made the world laugh.
A dismayed father roared at his son,
"Can you not even identify the treble from the base clef?"
NostalgiaI sit silently and wonder if you are doing the same thingNostalgia2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Closing your eyes while having flashbacks of our memories
Maybe you sigh deeply and slowly, imagining my eyes
You clasp your hand tightly, wishing for it to be mine
I wonder if you battle a war within yourself, waiting for me
Attempting to sleep but you toss and turn, yearning for warmth
Maybe nostalgia won in this case, causing you to stay awake
You dial my number, yet you hesitantly erase each one by one
Because you realize that I've been long gone, moved on
You try to convince yourself that second chances don't exist:
A sense of reminiscence has simply overcome your mind.
How They Flutter ByElusive quarry indeed.How They Flutter By4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bright-faced youths may scamper
Through sunlit meadows full of fluttering
And yet, at end of day, return tired
But eager to try again, as children are.
What of those too old, or too slow?
They'll run too, or perhaps just watch.
The glittering prize, promised
And so often savoured in anticipation
Proves always out of reach.
Easy, after a while, to stop and rest.
To forget those dappled hues and their dancing flight.
Retire, and pretend they never were.
Seek solace in other, greyer things.
Or remain forever haunted.
Gazing, maybe, at those more fortunate.
And in envy
Or in memory of sunny days long past
Their collections might sparkle yet.
Cold stillness belies their fate, in truth.
Dreams, pinned under glass.
GravityNot every man can prove their weight, their worth.Gravity1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
With dreams of wings I am forced to walk.
I wish to become the challenger of my own gravity,
To rise so much higher than fate will allow.
A wall of fate; nothing satisfies.
Just because I defy you, doesn't make me wrong.
The size of my deed will reflect my ego,
Project myself, I must become exactly what I want.
So gravity, I challenge you to keep me down,
I defy you to crush my wings!
In defiance I scream at my fate;
"I'll gain my wings and you'll keep your weight!"
RemembranceRemembrance4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
at the night sky
through a pane of glass.
in between my lips.
It is salty,
but I am not sure of what I taste.
of that time
when you put your lips to mine.
That tasted sweet,
but then it turned bitter-
like the taste of
melting on my tongue.
But I kept wanting more.
The kiss was like
I could tell that it was saying
So I clung onto it.
I inhaled your musky scent
until I was drunk with it.
I didn't want to let go.
Because if I
you would leave me.
Slowly, but firmly,
you began to pry me off you.
my arms around your neck,
the back of your shirt,
your soft, golden locks.
the best I could.
But I heard a voice.
It was unfamiliar,
a stranger's voice.
I had never heard a sound,
so cold and indifferent.
Your voice should have been
warm and full of laughter.
Don't touch me.
My arms fell limp to my sides
and I took a ste
Beautiful RealitySummer 2011 has made me realize two things: the real world vs. the image society believes life to be. Life isn't about how popular you can become or how much wealth you have. Life means something different to everyone depending on who they are and what they want to accomplish. To me, however, life is just as complex and hard to grasp as writing a melody for a piano may be. Putting together simple notes one by one can grow into a beautiful song to spread through the world inspiring artists, musicians, and people everywhere just by the way it sounds together. I dream of a world where people see people through their own skin. Where lovers see more than just pretty brown eyes. Where enemies see more than the flaws outside. Where parents see more than their children's mistakes. Where sisters and brothers see more than just another person in their way. People should help other people grow and change and fulfill their dreams! Life isn't about accomplishing your goals...life is about helping oBeautiful Reality3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
ManiaDisoriented,Mania4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she screams in agony,
and smiles as
she cuts you,
laughing long and loud
at your pain.
She growls when
she doesn't get her way and,
she buys way too many clothes and
doesn't eat meat and
pigs out on hotdogs,
but is such a vegetarian.
but perfect because
she's always happy,
she smiles and dances,
shows her cleavage and
her belly button ring,
laughing when you stare jealously at
her tattoo of an angel's wings, and
she cries because
she doesn't understand and
when she's having her period,
she spends all day every day - and even longer
than a week - in her room,
in bed, asleep,
none of this makes sense because,
she's so happy, but
She said yesShe said yes.She said yes3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Not exactly said it, but nodded her head from across the room in affirmation.
I brushed off a tear, as I took out an old engraved case from the drawer in my desk. It had been my father's, and his father's before that. My hands traced the wooden carving on the top of the case, intricate yet subtle, work of an artist long forgotten. The levers creaked as I pulled back the lid, revealing what lay inside. Exhaling deeply, I picked the object inside. I had the habit of keeping it ready for emergencies, but not once had it entered my mind that I would have to use it.
Once again I looked at her, standing there, across the room, in her favorite pink dress, one I had given her on her tenth birthday. She once had told me that this was her favorite dress, and she would wear it almost every day after school. The color had almost faded now, and the ribbon almost frayed at the end, but still, now it seemed that it was radiating some kind of glow.
"I love you," I said, my voice slowly c
BrokenBroken4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Gentle rain pattering outside,
steaks of water
trickling down the pane of glass.
The shrill squeak
as her hand slowly slid
down the window.
Wishing she could just
claw her way into the open.
To be free.
Released from the
sorrows of her heart.
Tears spilling, the droplets
splashing onto the cold tile floor.
Darkness in the sky-
showing its anger
a rumbling beast
flashes of blinding light
rain is like-
And healing a torn wound,
a blurred silhouette.
Beautiful, shining, amidst the darkness.
And she began to cry in earnest.
Pouring out her misery.
A pitiful sound, still sorrowful,
but her heart flooded with compassion,
self-pity, as she still yearned
for time to reverse its flow.
Never to forget,
but to forgive
and to let go.
Left BehindLeft Behind2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Your pillow lies next to mine. Instinctively, I bend over just to lay my head on your side, for once. The pillow is cold. And it smells just like you. Your unique smell. My heart hurts.
I lay on the bed, on my side, on my pillow. And turn to your side. Expecting to see your face sleeping next to mine. Peacefully. Gently breathing.
No one is there. It is at this point when I realize how foolish I am. To long for your presence when this has happened to me so many times. Too many times.
Even so, I cannot keep my heart from aching. That sore, throbbing pain in my breast. I am always the one left behind.
I miss you. I miss your smell, your voice, your everything. Come back, and don't leave me again. I beg of you.
Icarus thought patternsMy second piece is to point out and see Humanity's power and this is what i came up with:Icarus thought patterns1 year ago in Philosophical More Like This
Some of us seem incapable of real individual thought, but the majority of people i have encountered (Especially my own generation and those younger than me) Have shown great powers in being able to absorb ideas and improve on them, we are advancing at a continually faster rate.
It seems a common trait of the older generation to be stuck in ways of thinking I *consider* ignorant and unchangeable, yet we are still progressing and opening up more and more of our minds daily. It seems nature is too slow for our brain, so we are going into genetics to control our own fate and evolution.
There aren't groups around the world and philosophies based on transhumanism for no reason. We as a race want to step over humanity and be the next step. Although I agree with the vast majority in part, most of us are of very limited intelligence. If anything that spurs me on harder. We never looked at the stars and sai
The Man Who Couldn't DreamHe couldn't dream.The Man Who Couldn't Dream3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He could dream per se, day-dream about his job, his future life, his girlfriend, and all that but ever since his crash he was unable to dream in his sleep. That to him, it was as if someone had cut off a vital part of him. Before the fateful night of the car crash, almost two years ago, he had a very active dream-life. Monsters leapt out from unknown places, people whom he had met only once would come into his dreams and play havoc.
But all that was missing now. No more going to bed and waking up in a strange wondrous land, beyond his wildest imagination. He had tried everything. From holy men who had been sitting in a lotus position for the last twenty years, to herbs that promised to renew his dreams, to weird postures during sleeping, he had tried it all. But none of them worked. Something was missing inside him and he couldn't get it back.
Dejected, he turned to drinking. Day after day, bottle after bottle, he tried to drown himself. One day, he was out dr
The PathThe Path4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The force slams into me
like a brick wall.
I feel as if every bone in my body
into millions of fragments.
is entangled in my throat
and cannot find its way
to my lungs.
Dark ripples of water
are swirling around me and mocking me,
I am sinking
to the bottom of the abyss,
and no one will find me.
And as my vision begins to fade,
as my heart stutters its final throbs,
a warm, strong grip
on my arm, pulling me
from the darkness.
The light grows brighter and brighter
to the point of blinding me,
and I jolted with a sudden shock
as I felt energy
circulating through me.
And I find myself floating in the arms
of my star,
radiating with light,
smiling down on me,
gently carrying me to the heavens.
Four years.I was nine when they left me, when my best friend became my father, when the cancer got bad and I had to learn how to cook and clean and tuck myself into bed at night.Four years.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I was nine when my mother quit her job, and began spending every hour she had in the hospital, when my father began breaking promises and changing rules and getting lost on the highway because the hospital was the only place he knew.
I was nine when I understood what it meant to grow up too quickly, when they pulled me out of my classroom to tell me she was dying, when I realized that losing my sister would end more lives than one.
I was thirteen when they decided they could save her.
I was thirteen when they took her apart, piece by piece, and put her back together again, whole.
I was thirteen when they brought her home, breathing and smiling and laughing like little girls should, when her favorite color was green, when she talked so fast, when she wrote me stories and plays and songs, when she wanted to be an astronaut
HabitWill had a habit.Habit2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
When he was thinking, he'd go for a walk. He'd find a bench with a view of my house at the time.
He wouldn't look for me behind the panes of glass. He wouldn't even look at the house.
Will would just wait for me to see him and know he was thinking and go after him.
He could be such a girl sometimes.
He'd sit with his elbows on his knees, his head nearly on his knees, too. His hands would be clasped tight over his head. He'd close his eyes and lose himself.
Will had a few habits.
He wouldn't actually eat for the longest time. My mother invited him to dinner once. We had salad and grilled chicken. Me and my mother were almost done with our meals once he finally stopped glaring at it and occasionally stabbing the wilted salad he'd drowned in what would barely pass as a dressing, and begin to eat. Slowly.
He'd always wear a cap. Not a baseball cap, a ski cap. A black and lime green wool cap he'd tuck his unruly brown hair up into.
If I were to be at his house, if I got qu
LonerLoner4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can feel
my bare feet blistering.
I should have worn shoes,
but I like the way it feels
to have sand sift between my toes.
It gives me a sense of reality.
is beating down on me,
my face is probably red.
I'm sweating so much
that I can't tell
if that wetness from my eyes
is sweat or tears.
Because I am alone
in these miles of desert.
Nothing around me
except the sand
and the unrelenting sun.
had long disappeared.
In the middle of nowhere,
but the heat
and the sand
and the sun
to accompany me.
Despair is close.
My feet hurt.
I know that I am crying.
My whole body aches.
I am giving up
I am growing delirious;
I see something green.
I might as well
grab onto this last dream.
and clutching a dry, prickly plant.
Pain clears my mind,
it clears my vision.
has sharp needles in it.
a genuine smile.
Such a beautiful thing,
for the cactus is surviving.
It is surv