I see the curiosity in your eyes as I fidget over that feeling.

That feeling we’ve come to adorn with hearts and in modernity do not confuse with desire. For desire has its own needs however fleeting. And that feeling has lost its permanence… we know it can change, it can grow or it can fade and stop and fool. Its power though still lies in the expectations of its declaration. I know the grounding of those words that i naiively believed could not be uttered unless felt.

I know not nor maybe never will the time, the essence, that overwhelming thirst to share that feeling aloud. I do not know if I fear the silent reply or the words that will echo mine…. what if I simply change my mind once I say it out loud?

Moral contagion

I know her and sense all the reasons why she wants to wander… her frustrations, her isolation, her stifled soul and the deafening inner voices that torment her upon the minute silence.

But also maybe because she’s so afar and I soften at her distant actions…I sleep fitfully knowing she’s perhaps very contagious and nonetheless it seems fair to her that infected her must carry it to others when only conscience lies meekly in her path.

Spring’s Hearld

Spring’s Hearld”

Spring’s feathered herald

pecks furtively at the frozen’d ground

urging worms far nestled below

who refuse to venture out

and greet the bitter rain.

His red-dulled breast

heavy-drenched

with water disguised as ice.

II

She found last night

among the howling winds

that her chickling

had become an egg once more

curled into a downy, frail ball

yet no more warm

now more silent than ever.

III

Two quivering robins

huddle over their branch-bare nest

their warbles lost in the pelting hail

not a peep escapes from their hatchlings

There must be.

All the potential

But reality needs to have his way.

With all the roses

There must be thorns.

With all the sufferings

There must also be doubt.

And that voice

That says there’s no rest for the wicked

Doesn’t leave you alone without saying:

But there’s no peace for the good either.

Vile wins

When she was uncertain

She raged, she plotted, she cursed

And when she finally found out

She folded.

Things went back to the way they were.

Betrayal trying to justify his sleaziness and righteousness too exhausted to care.

And so he wins… And so he wins again.

Understanding II

And sometimes when I get too aware you lull me with soft and gentle mundanity..all the more to remain all feared… You await the moment I finally begin yet beyond all stings and doubts to believe again…

Because

Nothing less will satisfy your hunger for the jaded than when they fretfully forget their doom… only to be reminded in a moment of unbelievable cruel despair.

Understanding

I have come to understand my doom.

In one fell swoop all hopes turn to dust.

I am better now in letting in settle,

Brushing it off like built up dust.

Sweeping it aside once I see its true colours.

It erodes away at hope and helps me build mountains of cynicism instead.

Today

Today i hummed a tune and couldn’t resist smiling while I drove.

And all the thoughts that told me that soon enough I’ll be crying…

I drowned out by singing even louder.

Yes I may cry again and yes I may not feel like smiling yet again…

But that day is not today.

Today I feel like smiling.