Stumble and Chase

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Stumble and Chase

~

Some will wander with grace,

butterflies dancing in tune

to the music of life,

while I stumble and chase

illusive dreams-

Will it be just the same

when this smothering flame

finally comes to an end?

In eternal afterlife

to just stumble and chase

until finally amend

or forever be doomed-

H.O

July 2018


“This is our life; dreams come true, and dreams stumble, while others dreams remain postponed perpetuity.”

― Eyden I.

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When Eyes Deceive

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When Eyes Deceive

~

Not enough I feel sometimes

to be a flame-

And would you say I measure well?

But I’m afraid  the eyes deceive

my inner shape,

and for that alone I am to blame-

Through days I left so much behind

just walked away,

when couldn’t see the bright array

of flowers laid across my road,

I am afraid the eyes deceive

what’s truly mine,

betrayed by skin and brittle bones

I am afraid the eyes deceive,

and a road of flowers

turn into stones-

H.O

May 11, 2018


“It’s not what you say out of your mouth that determines your life,

it’s what you whisper to yourself that has the most power!”

― Robert T. Kiyosaki

11:11

dadu

11:11

~

By accident-

I came to be, to exist in the same space

of blooming choices where mines a seed

not planted right, a crooked vine

which sometimes flowers, confused

I say, sometimes my need

to become roses-

In random numbers life discloses

what blindness see

in dreams alone, when if survive

I become god’s divine excuse

By chance-

I say, sometimes it’s true

that time around the fire goes

and we become a waiting number,

unlucky draw, god only knows,

I’m just a vine dreaming of roses-

H.O


“There are patterns because we try to find them. A desperate attempt at order because we can’t face the terror that it might all be random.”

― Lauren Beukes, The Shining Girls

Nesting

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Nesting

~

It is all temporary-

Time like Jello appears liquid and fools

will drink it with delight,

I’ll stay longer, it is comfort I seek

avoiding the uncomfortable I sleep

in shadows under artificial light-

Look at me!

My imperfect perfections

stand out under your fingers

counting your reality,

mine bitterly lingers

after each smile fades away.

But it is all temporary,

a place to rest from a journey

stale at times in decay-

It is all temporary

and I won’t stay-

H.O


“My God, a moment of bliss. Why, isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime?”

― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

Husk

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Husk

~

Sometimes I peel off fantasies

one by one, rip them slow,

left naked under cold flesh

where shades of truth will show-

Often trapped in reality streams

flowing, flowing in never ending days-

Oh what life becomes!

But to heal, to refresh,

sometimes I must

wake the lasting haze

of dreams-

H.O


“In all of us, even in good men, there is a lawless wild-beast nature, which peers out in sleep.”

― Socrates

Encaged

caged-bird-back

Encaged

 

~

I will free you one day – I said

when you are ready to fly

and the skies turned bright blue

with the love of your life-

But full moons came and passed

and my life flew by fast

with my dreams still encaged.

I will find you a home – I said

that belongs just to you

where your wings soft and wide

will encompass the sky-

But the clouds turned dark grey

and the storms raged outside

while my dreams still encaged.

There still time- then I said

and will plant you a garden

when in Spring you will bloom.

But I spoke way too soon

for my seeds old and dry

may not sprout anymore

and to free you I swore

but my dreams still encage-

H.O


“The soul is like a caged bird, it waits for the right person to open the door and set it free.” ― Belinda Taylor on “Soul”

Void

The_Void

Void

~

There is a space that remains empty

an emotionless vacuum stripped clean of life

left floating between all things in the past

and the wants I harvest today.

I let go and a part of me drains away

empty space it becomes in between

what I was and what I am-

H.O


“I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.”

― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar