Tag Archives: growth

3 Retrogrades & A Sleeping Venus

Floating

We hold hands as we look down at the lights

Our laughter fills the air

We thought we could roam forever

But soon our laughter stopped

and the breeze grew too strong

We lost our bearings, and all that was familiar to us became distant to us.

Our hands became clammy

Now, unattached, we float through life as though lost in a black-hole

The smell of burning trees leading me to you whimsically

 

A presence I cannot see or (that I) hide if need be

you became an inconvenience

An unwelcome being.

 

As I touch base, I look up and see you perched on top of a mountain

I call out

send directions

Yet you refuse to accept the end of our floating dispositions

 

Even though we no more hold hands, we still hold the strings to each other’s heart

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Bedtime Fears

There will come a time
When the monsters
The boogeyman
And the ghosts
The shadows
And the ghouls
Will come from your childhood
to plague you

They will return with a vengeance for your blood
Reminding you of the battles you’ve though
Reminding you of the tears of fear that you’ve cried
Reminding you of the pain that you have endured

They also serve as a reminder, that a strength within you has evolved
To forget all that plagues you
To fight all that frightens you
And to destroy all that challenges

But remember, those who raise a sword hold an equally likely chance
Of being cut by it

Sometimes, ones independence can come at a price

The price of liberating yourself from your childish mind
Is the creation of the adult
The realisation of your true fears
Seeing the tangible presence that puts you to tears
And starting the process of overcoming.

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Surviving The Thorns

When you’re a rose that has been starved of water
Crushed by the thorns of those who are budding just as you are
And hidden from the sunlight
Any kind of sustenance will be thankfully received
Even when the water is polluted
Even when the light is artificial and burning

You grow attached wondering in desperation:
“But I am forgotten
Who else will care for me?
Who else will pay me attention, when I appear to be nothing but a weed?”

But a rose can never touch itself
Can never feel and smell itself
To take in the true splendour of its beauty

In the same way, this is how we allow ourselves to be mistreated.
Because, just like this lonely, we cannot behold our own beauty.

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Fruits of Youth

The life of second guessing that flourishes from the seeds of doubt planted in your youth

 

Through gnashing teeth or beguiling smiles

All creating a den of insecurity from their insincerity

 

Laden in yolk from the crowd’s egg throws

Humiliation and shame then takes it foothold. Then you look old.

 

With nothing having sold in this world of consumerism

You begin to wonder at your own personal value and wisdom. “Why can’t I sell myself in this system of Capitalism?”

Drowning. You drown into a state of self loathing, strong enough to feel like a poison

Death calling you like it’s your only freedom

 

But yet, something shines on your pitiful soul and you cry “Namaste”

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The Devil’s Virgin

As I lay languidly on the marble that circled luxurious green plants
I looked around me, saw the beautiful nature of plants and forestry around me
And realised that the sensuality that flowed through me and this silk dress was all me
It was my reality.

Unfortunately, my lover did not feel the same.
Caught up in a den of lust and gluttony of the mind.
A love of money that his soul could not hide.
Ambition was the only thing in his eyes.

Blind to all that was around him
Blind to the comfort and sweet sensations that I await to give him.
He only sought to live the life that was far from him and not revel in the ease and beauty of the roses, jasmines and lavender the world had to offer him.

So I ignored him and continued to revel in my beauty
To revel in the grace that surrounded me
I continued to watch nature take its glorious path to righteousness
To the sun

In these enclosed gardens
These private quarters

I found contentment in the journey of life and not my anxious lover’s arms.

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