Life in General

Life is about anything that we can make it.

Taste of Heaven

It’s raining today
I go out to taste heaven
My parched lips eager

So much grateful for the drought
It intensifies my joy

I want to be free
Let lose under this power
It’s drenching my soul

Then I dance like I’m crazy
This is too much to contain

I grab this moment
More important than my pain
Deal with it later

 

Learnings of a feeble heart

By: Lavina

 

One day i will learn

that not all goodbyes

need to be said

because sometimes

the sun has to slip away

behind the dark clouds

of the vast twilight —

quietly, gently …

and you never know it’s gone,

till the world is all dark and gloomy.

 

One day i will learn

to feel and savor the rituals

of the pouring rain,

amidst my luxury of self-torment,

over a love so misunderstood,

and a soul convicted of vagrancy,

when the night is old

and our hearts are cold.

 

Because one day soon

long nights will be over,

and hearts that hurt will mend.

It’s only a matter of time, and love

until I learn that the skies

have the eternity to spend

watching over my neglected dreams.

Then I arise from the dark

and learn some more

that the sun is up once again.

writer’s block

I used to write no end.

I used to write like writing

was the only way I could live.

I wrote saccharine, sentimental pieces

where some people scoffed at.

And sometimes I bullied my way

into poetry like a dog getting on

a porcupine… and people adored me.

 

Out of my well-worn heart

and complex imagination,

I declared myself master of my pen,

oblivious to the fact

that poetry sometimes does fade.

 

The wine tasted bland.

Raindrops, annoying.

Night sky, frightful.

 

There was no more joy

in my writing,

only sad patterns for sorrow.

And so I grieved at the sunset

Like it would never rise again.

Where your soul has been

Can hope be abundant

in the ephemeral field

of dandelion dreams?

Can dreams ever do come true?

What have you seen so far

in your journey

to never ending sunsets?

Were there a few sunrise along the way?

 

 

I want to learn, too, I want to see

I want to find out how it is

To plunge and find out why.

I want to know the meaning

Of every sigh…

 

Like you do, I am treading along

never knowing why, right away

never knowing why sometimes

some things just cannot stay…

 

Go ahead now and sigh

the contented, wistful sigh of the ocean.

From the many twilights you’ve seen,

surely there are a hundred dawn breaks

where your soul has been.

PATTERNS FOR SORROW

I used to write no end.
I used to write like writing
was the only way I could live.
I wrote saccharine, sentimental pieces
where some people scoffed at.
And sometimes I bullied my way
into poetry like a dog getting on
a porcupine… and people adored me.

Out of my well-worn heart
and complex imagination,
I declared myself master of my pen,
oblivious to the fact
that poetry sometimes does fade.

The wine tasted bland.
Raindrops, annoying.
Night sky, frightful.

There was no more joy
in my writing,
only sad patterns for sorrow.
And so I grieved at the sunset
Like it would never rise again.

THE LONG WAIT

How do I count the days
that lead to eternity?
How do I wait for the sun
to come up
amidst this seemingly
endless darkness?
How do I trust
and not get scared?
How do I sing
a mourner’s song?

I am a coward,
forever asking questions,
forever wondering why,
forever failing to try
and live
the sacred dreams.

When Your Hero Has Fallen

When your hero has fallen,

life with fear you partake

And when your peace is stolen,

in your sleep you’re awake.

 

When your pain is forgotten

all your tears are ignored

It’s when you feel forsaken

by the one you adored.

 

It’s when you feel as empty

as a sore hollow grief

Or when you’ve found out lately

you’re in great disbelief.

 

That your hero has fallen

And so your hopes hang low

And oh your heart is taken

To die a death so slow.

 

Just remember your pride will not forgive you

And in September flowers begin to fall too.

 

Arrogance cannot give you wings,

it only gives you pits to fall in

And lust is mother of all things

which make your mind feeble to sin.

 

How come you have fallen now

Your hero is within

For certain you know somehow

What’s pulling you within.

 

Once your hero has fallen

Then you shall cry a tear

Your heart falls like a pollen–

A pollen stained by fear.

 

By: Anonymously Ken