Archive | October, 2012

Reflections in a Broken Mirror

25 Oct

I stand here, on the cold bathroom floor

Staring at a broken face in a broken mirror

My face was incomplete, grey areas in place of skin

A broken mirror; a crack running from temple to toe to tongue

The sides faded and fast vanishing

Made by an artist run out of paint or interest

My left eye missing and nothing there

In half shock and half amusement

I brought my hands up to my face

My pal was hollowed out

I went to touch the mirror

Warm fingers touching cold glass.

It all came crashing down

I had vanished

Nothing more than glass shards strewn on the floor.

The broken mirror reflected a complete truth

An unfinished being sent too soon.

A masterpiece not quite ready to face the world

Just a heap of trash on the cold bathroom floor.

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A Drop in an Ocean

25 Oct

Masks;

We’ve built so many;

To fit our faces,

Hide the emotions within.

 

Masks;

With paint smeared on them,

Halos and horns drawn on them.

Try and take it off.

 

In this ocean of lies,

A drop of truth.

In a sky of deception,

A cloud of promise.

 

Masks;

You’ve never worn one,

Never wear one.

Your just a drop.

 

Yet you make the ocean so sweet,

A damp flicker in a world of black.

We fool no one but ourselves,

Learn from the masks;

Learn to never wear one.

Learn to be proud of your raw;

Warm and gentle heart.

It’s all you were born with

It’s all you will die with.

 

Behind the Iron Curtain

25 Oct

Berlin;

Chase the little boy,

Chase him down the little road.

And when you glimpse red.

You fear you may lose your head.

 

In Prague;

Jump on a bicycle;

Loose your self in the stony streets.

And when you glimpse red.

You fear you must salute.

 

And then in Warsaw;

Explore the recent ruins;

Admire death camps.

And when you glimpse red.

You fear you must obey.

 

Make it to Budapest;

Savor the best of chocolates.

And when you glimpse red.

You fear the voice in your mind.

 

Live until Moscow;

Raise a toast at the Kremlin.

Admire the ancient foods

And when you glimpse red;

You fear you have made it too far.

 

Look back at the curtain;

It’s no longer there.

That’s because you’ve faced it.

And it has rusted away.

 

A barrier of the mind.

Melted;

You’ve become red.

But you can’t say you don’t like it.

Tunnel of Reality

25 Oct

Which was the way in?

It’s hard to remember

I’ve hidden inside for so long.

But I can see light on both sides.

I hear minds fly right past;

Unable to choose.

 

Which was the way out?

I’ve never been to the other side

I hear voices on both sides

Calling to me; calling to me.

The light gets brighter.

 

Burns a hole in my eyes.

I’ve grown into darkness

Can’t find my way out.

I’m stuck in the tunnel.

The tunnel with now way out.

In search of a brighter day

25 Oct

“A brighter day will come”

and yet he couldn’t wait

He had to find it.

In a world of hate;

a world of pain and suffering

He followed not his brain;

but his soft warm heart.

Journeying up and down the Nile;

Flying across the Atlantic.

A small man;

on a mission to discover his playground

like a young boy in a fairground;

Unwilling to let go.

He came back sad;

Discovered more pain

Witnessed a world of hate

Thrown back onto the streets;

Punished; Happiness was not to be his.

He closed his eyes;

Let go of his parallel lives

Crossed a bridge of sighs.

He was home.

A brighter day had come;

He found a home among the stars.

Dreams are tragedies

12 Oct

And in the morning,
We’re struggling to get awake
And the ghosts leave us
Its stuck in there
Dreams of a snowy summer
Dreams of distraught love
And it won’t go away
It’ll be back again tomorrow
When its worse than before
We’ll call it a nightmare
It’ll happen on and on
Untill we make peace.
Till then we’ll toss and turn
Let the night lights burn
Dreams are tragedies

Each night they play out
A love story ending in blood
No winner but only losers
And they all cry, ‘why’?
And the master playwright
In the background; Laughs
Irony and fallacy take the stage
They steal the show
And when the actors go back
To take their final bow

They’re elated to survive the night
But awake next morn without a fight
Because Dreams are Tragedies
Stage rehersals;
For that final night.
Till the playwright’s got it right.
And when pen is put to paper
Destinies are written
The tragedies play out in life
The end scripted to perfection.

SOuL

7 Oct

SOUL is a social initiative started by me designed to offer people over the world who wish to have a global platform to give their opinion on important issues both globally and locally. More details about SOul can be found in the file attached here – SOUL

I do hope that you will write in with your views and opinions as the more contributors the initiative has the stronger it is and the more momentum it will gain. SOuL is currently only in an offline form but I intend to extend it onto the larger platform the internet has to offer.

Thank You and I hope you will join in as well!