Tag Archives: reflections

MIDWINTERNIGHT’S WHISPERS

source: travelization.net

 

It’s winter again and I am born again

With the weather dropping its angst and baggage

 

Gunshots and thunders have been known to not wake me up

I have been blessed with the gift of sleep, in addition to milk and wine

But tonight I stagger out of bed like a drinker

Who was given a particularly potent new brand of ethanol

The piss of the spirits it is called

“It’s time to get rid of the past”

I heard winter’s chilly-sweet voice tell me out of sleep

 

I dance into the toilet like a goat out of a marijuana joint

Caution: I don’t encourage the use of illicit drugs

I reverently approach the toilet bowl and kneel before it

Like a priest before a deity

I gaze red-misty-eyed into the water

As commanded by winter

 

And I begin to see the seasons of my life gone by…

 

 

 

Bells in the air

Happy chaos everywhere

It’s the sound of joy and love

Spring came with the first romance of my life

All gift-wrapped and abandoned at my doorstep

I didn’t have to sweat for or with her

The whole feeling was that clear ecstasy you got

When your thoroughly engineered plans fell into place

And you had covered up for all possible lapses

Time flew past fast

Work was meaningful

And better than what I had dreamt of

Oh, things threatened to go wrong at times during the day

But in this spring season, nothing could go awry

I would find me singing as I strolled back from work in the evening

As I smelt the fragrance of freshly growing grasses

And believed all was right with the world

 

Transition…

 

A little sweat here and there

But I still got this under control

Summer doesn’t care who your father is

This sun will burn even on the rich as well

A little sweat here a little ache there

And I began to learn the harsher rules of life

I enjoyed growing up and seeing the other sides

But drudgery comes upon every relationship

As the couple grow too familiar with each other

Even the work you love

Soon gathers its own dust and makes you sneeze

You can only hope the heat doesn’t go for too long

Because that would usher in unexpectedly on you

 

The autumn

 

Singing: let everything fall and fade away

Let the romance of death begin… la la la

 

The couple will dance to this song

And it takes two to rock it!

When every good immortalized relationship dies

It takes two to drive the stake through the vampirical heart

And I see how we both did our jobs well in the murder

Remember the threats of things to go wrong during the day

Well, they got their wishes

On the work front, I got the famous sack letter

The heat was too much for too long

Things started looking honestly bleak

But autumn never fails me

Autumn took everything away

Stripped me naked

It reminded me of how I came into the world

 

This cold place

 

Where the best season is

 

Winter

 

Welcome, winter

The comforter of souls in pain

The season of celebrating the birth of the one called Christ

The time when the year calls us to balance the books

The season that mixes so much sanguinity with melancholy

 

Here now comes the slow fade

 

When you hear them sing

From now on our troubles will be out of sight

It just means the cold has made us appropriately numb to them

It was a gradual step

From the innocence and bliss of spring

To the harsh realities of summer

Then to the frank cruelty of autumn

By now, you are fully made

Beaten out into shape

You have seen it all

The pain does not bother anymore

You have hung out your tears on winter to freeze them away

The slow fade has occurred

And I was left wondering if I wanted spring to come next as expected

In that state, did I even bother

I stared at the mirror intently to read my inner desires

But I am the man I once knew

The person I see in the mirror now

Is distorted by the ripples

Of the water in the toilet bowl

I get up reverentially

Dance out of the toilet like a goat out of a marijuana joint

Staggered into bed like a drinker

Totally light and drifting like one

Who has dropped all his angst and baggage

To be born or die again…

 

Who can ‘let it go’ better than a dead man

Sleep tonight Chris

Let it go

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The Enchanted Writer’s Muse

English: Sunset at Porto Covo, west coast of P...

The definition of muse I am concerned about, of the different ones provided by the online dictionary, is:
(n.) the source of inspiration for an artist.
Tips: The Muses of Greek mythology
were nine goddesses who presided
over and protected the arts and
sciences and who were said to inspire
poets and artists. You may still hear
people today refer to someone as
their muse, because they inspired
them and galvanized them to
succeed.
Artists’ muses vary widely from human beings (especially someone the artist shares a bond with) to animals, to non-living things (including the controversial ‘psychedelic art’ which involves inspiration in altered states induced by psychoactive drugs or alcohol usually); and some artists only need an element of thought or feeling, not attached to anyone or thing in particular, e.g., a mood swing (hehehe!).
Whilst I also have a huge reservoir of muses (humans, animals, plants, sunsets, sunrise, etc), I belong among that last category needing only an element of thought or emotion and “I’m off!” But I don’t write mostly to “relieve stress or pain”.
Now, there are times -and these are MANY -when I look at the supernatural aspect of life and existence. Now, Dear Reader, make no mistake about my being a scientist who indeed loves the scientific method and proof. In fact, this has made it easier to acknowledge the existence and the reality of the unseen world, beating visibly under the thin skin of this world. From events in the outside world all around, to the forces resident in our human nature, I do not find it hard acknowledging the proof of the supernatural. And, before long the Spirit within me tickles my thoughts and I am lost, obsessing over the wondrous reality and pull of the supernatural. In this altered state of mine, I feel genuinely lost. I feel on fire, literally. I have never successfully written out all my thoughts before. Whatever is close by I grab -phone, jotter, laptop. And my fingers get to working feverishly. And then it’s done.

I know different artists experience their “highs” or “busts” differently; and with different muses (sources of inspiration) too. It’s an amazing experience I GUESS. I welcome anyone who has it differently or better than I do. I am quite open to learn.
(Smile + Wink+ Bow)
Thank you.

Truth: Run-Away Groom

Toilet drinker.

Like a bride that finally found her man
Hiding away in the toilet on the wedding day,
So do we have mixed feelings
Finding run-away (elusive) truth.

Frustrated -for having searched EVERYwhere before eventually getting to the toilet?
Sad -for having to look for it at all, when it should be there for us as at WHEN needed.
Hopeless -for having searched in all EXPECTED places.
Happy shock -for STUMBLING upon it in a toilet.
Sad shock -for finding truth HIDING away from us in a toilet.
Doubt -because truth hid away FROM US.
Relief -for FINALLY finding truth.
Hope -for finally FINDING truth.

I know some will throw a temper tantrum now they have finally found him. Then, they will pretend they never really wanted him; and will start throwing pity-parties and sulking. (Secretly yearning for his profuse apologies and making up.)

P.S.: Then we ask Truth -“Why did you hide away from us at this important moment of life???”
Or was the problem US?