All entries for Saturday 24 October 2009
October 24, 2009
Monday, 17 November 2008 at 00:47
That skull grins
It is my kin
The talons hide
But for what bonus
We’re equal now
A Five Minute Response to A Friend’s Composition
Sunday, 23 November 2008 at 00:43
The decomposition of innocence
We abandon composture
Lose the nebula in the eyes
To be integrated slowly
Interred to that of the skies
Where tears stream
Fed by the mountains of adversity
We become one, whole in Spiritus Mundi
Sunday, 23 March 2008 at 15:36
By Latoya Mistral Ferns-Advani
China discipline those who poison from the inside,
They kill your children for welcoming Freedom,
This regime that you from Humanity divides
I appeal to your reverence of Justice and Wisdom!
Tibet, though I be a foreigner distinct and proud,
I am your kin in hope and a part of your vigil…
Even as hopeful songs are punished by repression loud,
Valiant hearts remain in beaten bodies which resist ill will!
Citizens of China exert your will and your motherland rule
Bow your insecure government, Censorship is your true Opium.
Have not decades of oppression acted like fuel
To overcome the enforced schismatic delirium?
Tibet with the dignity of people unconquered:
Liberation is the soul mate of preservers of Dreams.
A barren, blood soaked martyrs’ land cannot birth a Future,
Let the dew fall on pure upheld prayer flags and unsullied mountain streams
True China, acquaint yourselves with a trodden-down-reality:
Another State, distinct from your own yet steeped in twin grief,
Even in prospects of obliteration holding on to peace and spirituality,
Defiantly depriving the utilitarian sadist-thief.
The moment is rife with telltale signs,
If the struggle retains its untarnished hue
Of ridding the oppressed from malign,
Imminent is the advent of triumphs of virtue!
Await the day when you as Neighbors
In spontaneous assembly your national anthems sing,
Great Eulogies to the sacrificial patriotic labors
That inspired the Lauds of self-determination to ring!
DISPLACED LIKE TEPID WATER
FROM A TANK OF SHARKS
THE UNWANTED DAUGHTER
THE CROW AMONG THE LARKS
YOU WONDER HOW THE DISENCHANTED BLOOM
COMPELLED TO BE SUFFRING’S GROOM
REPRESSED YET UNDEFEATED
IN POROUS VICTORY
WEED THAT NEVER YIELDED
BUT A PIERCING LEGACY
YOU WONDER HOW THE DISENCHANTED BLOOM
COMPLELLED TO BE SUFFERING’S WOMB
SHE WILL NOT RELENT
IN TEARS NOTHING REMAINS BUT SALT
THOUGH HER BLOOD BE SPENT
AND FIRE-BRANDED “AT FAULT”
TILL A FRESH ASSAULT
YOU WONDER HOW THE DISENCHANTED BLOOM…
Thursday, 07 August 2008 at 23:30
These aisles of memories
They’re steeply priced
You can have them frosted
Or you can have them iced
Strangers in the hallways
I never thought I’d see
So many times and for the last
Before we’re history
In their eyes big questions
You thought they knew you well
Sediments of hours and hours
As black as purgatory or hell
Soul mates are mortal too
Like the heat of summers lost
To mingle in the typhoon
It’s themselves at any cost
Malleable as toffee
Crumbling mud from mud
Drawn like zip lines to idiocy
Burning out like cigarette butts
Uprooted like dry grass
In a non-descript dustbowl
Sustaining the all important farce
To make up for some soul
These hills are alive with cud-chewing cows
Stone walls forever echo our frivolous anthem
Let the uniform herd take its ill deserved bows
As the model class takes in short lived illumination
I don’t want to move on and furthermore
Don’t want to progressively regress
So immune now to those social scores
Attached to ambitious marionettes
Friday, 08 August 2008 at 00:08
Like a tree whose daily ablution is eternity
I feel my roots though I may not see
Ever in transience like lake tranquil
Yet bound to form as I orbit by will
Though the wind forever change
And danger light and fan its fire
May voice and music celebrate range
And a love crescendo ‘tween us transpire
Let the sterile past like autumn wither
And sorrow diffuse like sweet perfume
Let matured desire send angels bring you hither
Fervent prayer guard us then and distance exhume
Visions I am privy to like silhouettes so far away
Be they entrusted by inevitability or delusion
Hope’s entourage honor me by their stay
Till tempest compel them leave journey-bidden
Saturday, 23 August 2008 at 02:21
God only uses 10 pecent of His brain:
A hundred joys, some thousand pains!
Thursday, 04 September 2008 at 23:37
Moving on don’t pierce me
Even looking at his face
There’s a new phase for me
A cheatcode through this maze
Those frantic lips cant hurt me
Even curses ‘pon my name
From his shadow I glide free
No resent at playing his game
Through the mist on hills high
The gallows of distance
Enlist in Hopes Resistance
For the grail in my minds eye
I fell light for You
Friday, 05 September 2008 at 16:03
Find your solace in my assurance
And your victory in my prayer
May anger teach us Tolerance
Let me seem not intrusion but there
Though the wages of human rages
Inspire us to be numb
Lets Wisdom’s pages of the ages
Teach us not to succumb
I dream not of the doorlessness
Of soulmate’s free exchange fortress
I do not claim to master you
Curiosity, Greater attachments do not ensue
Not every conversation or social nicety
Is a damned indication of desperate loss of dignity
Unintended connotation’s ignorant of your reality
Whats your secret to me, when every life is misery
Sunday, 09 September 2007 at 20:51
I felt like silt flowing freely
Upon the tides of mountain Springs
Till the water that took me so high pounded upon me
Like Blood that rushed within battling its confines
Rendering me senseless
The mind knows naught but a vague ennui
A unison of passion and stillness
Blending into a passive turbulence
That evades the minds grip on reality
Like incessant applause
That ululates insanity
Filling the caverns of ravaged senses
Until it all freezes like a glacier
The dirt forever to be embedded in thought
Spirit to forever vanquish in muck
Tuesday, 20 November 2007 at 18:44
When I look at someone or something, as is when we all do, an image of him or her or it is projected in my eyes. What if muse, or thought or memory were to fill it as well? Isn’t it beautiful and yet does it not scare you, like you are exposing a sacred grove to the fumes of exploitation, and how many times would you catch me with your image in my eye and would I be able to bear the image of your aversion towards me?
Saturday, 26 January 2008 at 00:56
Morning broke the listless contagion of the night and silky sunlight made smooth the shadow creases until they vanished from the garment of day which now shone through the slayed oblivion.
The fragrance wafted through like fresh waffles and maple syrup, the welcoming sickly sweet that accompanies the memories of the grieving as their minds diffuse into recollections of little known origin.
The wood was cold and tender to the sacred caressing; just as in the yesteryears dark and cooling to the senses like cucumber upon inflamed eyes that have been stung by too much life, too much love.
He sat at the wood, his eyes gleaning as nostalgic muse played with his heartstrings. All these years had come in between them, so many surpassed trials and he still was incredulous at how every obstacle failed to separate them, in sickness or in health. These thirty years had not been easy. He sipped his coffee and took in the odor that would accompany him to his dying day that which he’d never part with, and celebrated his steady marriage with the coffin in the morning.
Saturday, 26 January 2008 at 00:58
Everywhere I hear voices, gushing in like the all too loud murmurs emanating from Poseidon’s bounty. Still they are oddly synchronized, brought to strange harmonies like the ululations of the water which is a tribute to the myriad world we permeate in our slumber.
Rising and falling, reaching an intrusive crescendo, all at once in a million different ways that inanely unite. Here, the grinding sound of metal blends with the hymn and no distinction is known as it blends into the manuscript of time, into the million bars and measures that can only selectively touch the mind and yet overwhelm to tears and insanity.
The oratorio is a nebula of itself, weaving entirety, clarity, but appearing to us a vision of perplexing infinity from which men are exiled, a plethora of all that is important yet trivial.
It compels the martyr to a cause of even questionable implication to give up life and yet desire a “beyond”, an umbilical chord to the song from which we will never emerge distinctly conceived or divorced.
Wholesome, and yet corrugated by corruption.
In the midst of this chorus and the tabernacle of eons stands the conductor, the dichotomous artist who conducts all sound and weaves the extension of himself which he loathes and aches for in the spirit of confounding divinity.
you died in my tears….
and can only resurrect in my smile….
here only will u be master of mortality….
here alone by your actions….
here merely as a part of my precious life
Saturday, 26 January 2008 at 01:03
Never stop writing, to me expression is like breath, but it sustains not existence snuck into flat chronology but thriving….
Saturday, 26 January 2008 at 01:03
TIBET SINGS FREEDOM
THROUGH FRIGID WINTER TEMPEST
CHINESE “LOVE” KILLS THEM
The night is hushed by your reminiscence
The lingering sweet divinity of your aftermath is in my memory
And the sonnet of my soul right in the midst of its epicentre
Clasped by the cherishing desire
My vision for our destiny or what it ought to be
Is but an unfinished monument of my love for you
I fell in Love the other day
A drowning drunk in the high seas of Angeldust
Upon me the gills of accustomed angst
Free me from the need to surface for air
To barter with the heavens for reprise, It is priceless
This new awakening proclaimed boldly that Love
Could not be but ageless!
Wheelless is the chariot of broken thought
Akin to tomorrow’s rayless sun
That lies in the tepid waters of stagnation
So still and quiet the once chirping bird of thought that soars no more
But who has drunk of the cursed elixir of existence
And damned to wait in listless, turbulent anticipation
How the words come tumbling out of the still dusk
Enclosed in the shell of just being
How furiously they dive into the pitcher
And cross the “all too fine” line.
Written in 2006