… so help me God

Everything is ephemeral. Yes! Indeed! Nothing lasts forever.

That being said: by applying a constructivist relativism to the human experiences en masse, we rob our existence off its basis – the quest for truth, for a higher consciousness and – dare I say it? – godliness. You cannot not invest your heart into your affairs of importance and then wonder and weep at chances bygone and days lost. To believe in truth is to believe in its elevated meaning and meaningfulness! To consecrate oneself to it is to search and roam the intersections – bounce oneself silly in the back-and-forth between their elastic walls – and to make use of each day: in utmost appreciation of the desperation involved in the pursuit of the higher things…

You will never arrive. You will never revel in blissful certainty. Your life, as you learn, is a walk on a tightrope – and the path to mastery the endurance in fixating on the point ahead.

If I am to lose faith in everything, I know that I will never lose faith in my red beating heart.

delusions

Love is whimsy,

barely a flame, mere dust

Love eternal does not exist.

 

Poems clog the shores like plastic waste

In a tragic attempt at grasping the world’s greatest mystery

And thus pollute the oceans

In a tragic attempt at sterility

 

Mark my words, and do not partake

In the world’s greatest treachery

All I have learnt from love is this:

It cannot be institution, if to be conserved naturally;

neither self-praise, or else shorn of its dignity;

– and the first of all loves is sweetest, because new! –

And the first of loves never last

And by the time you meet the truest of them all

The forces that be will, eventually, seperate you

Because even a hawk does not claim with such jealousy

The gem of gems, your heart’s fidelity

 


insomniac and meh.

I hope I finally learn.

Iridescent

I seek refuge! I say – in the word and its meaning and the blissful depths of the sea of forgettery! – I find my sanctuary in gratitude as sweet as honey, clinging to blades of grass like feathery droplets amidst the change of seasons; I commit myself to the light within and the voice that asks me to trust its lead, and it looks like grace does not shoot out of the sky like lightning, but rather gently rains down on your face like only a night of stillness can, coronating your locks with fragments of invisible diamonds and clothing you in armor and teaching your mind manoeuvres it never knew heretofore… awaken. You were not born to bind down your objectives to a particular locality, or to compromise on who you are. Be woman, be child. Be the whirlwind and an abundance of sunshine. Be the white tree and the new morning. Some are born to protect, some to serve. You were born to seek. Love with all your heart, but move on.


inspired by Pentatonix’s cover of “Hallelujah”

Tempora novae

If I attribute more than its due share,
blame it on the overflowing barrages
Of my heart so blossomy, so bitter-bare
When the freshet drowns the fortresses,
the temples, the village-strewn meads in
a maelstrom of sweet forgotten glory
whereof pride produced a masterpiece
and vanity left it to rot in folly
It won’t be remembered for the havoc it wreaked
My flowers know but of springs serene
Let the annals speak, have the final say:
It will be remembered for new seeds,
new winds
new hopes
new doors
new songs and
new wings
new roses will bloom, petals fill the air
and new fates will seek and find this vale

Consecration of The Flame

Before I learn how to take over the reins,
I must first know how to bow and conciliate.
Before I allow myself to erupt in anger,
I must peruse the veracity of my colloquist’s heart.
Before I kowtow to the wishes of the world,
I must be able to face my reflection in the mirror first.
And before I confound the matters of heart and head,
I must know where endings begin, and beginnings end.

To the One I Will Yet Meet

I know you/
You have peregrinated the trajectory of my dreams before/
you have raced light-years through my velvet cosmos of gyrating stars/
whilst I counted the supernovae in silent awe/
readily meeting their destiny if only to lead you the way/
you have witnessed the rise and fall of empires amidst the dystopia of my half-lidded visions/
you have weathered the pillaging and the babel of cries/
and where others winced at the impossibility of possibilities/
and contorted and transferred the assigned values!/
you looked at them all with veracity, wanting to understand the limit to your limits’ limits/
and you knew that, at the end of all things, only you would remain/
you have traversed mountains, beautiful as the break of dawn/
and sometimes, I could swear an elusive smile flashes by/
leaving behind leafy canopies only a susurration of promises, a song of olden days/
you are as strange to me as the language you speak/
and as familiar as the laugh of my mother/
and as formidable as the tempest and as dear as my life/
Who are you?/
You are a vagrant, like me/ I have known you for the longest time/