Tag Archives: Happiness

Sacrifices

Who would have thought
Ecstasy and euphoria
Would make me forget
The ground below
Would make me forget
The cold of beautiful snow

To float in the clouds is bliss
Until one remembers they are hungry
You cannot use aether to quench your hunger

Dancing till your feet are tired?
Joyful until you complain
Of arthritis in your old age

Eating rich till your heart is satisfied
But that same pleasure
Can cause that very same heart to die

Love has a price to pay
And there are sacrifices to be made

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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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The Dragon or The Phoenix

Sometimes I wonder
Am I a Dragon
Or am I The Phoenix

Do I posses
The willpower
To restart
my life over?
Do I receive
Death, as a healing
Instead of a devouring?

Am I absolute
In my existence
In my mind
And my encourage
Or am I fairytale creature
Brought to life
Only when
A Heroine wishes to strike?

I do not know
which I am
But I do know
Which I wish
to become

I wish to become The Phoenix
To die
Many deaths
Without truly passing
away in my mind
To renew my mind
When old ways
have passed
To wear a coat
more beautiful
than any angel or bird

I choose to be
The best
I can be
Through renewal
and rebirth
Through the sacrifice
of the dead cells
in my heart

I wish
To free
My soul

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My Secret Fire

Sometimes I lament how cold I have become

I try to cry

But I laugh instead, as bitterness wraps itself around my spine.

 

They think I don’t feel

When the problem is, I have felt too much

 

The pain of suffering from the words of a loved one

The shame of loving someone who only sees me as a bit of fun

Or a crutch for their numerous fucking problems

 

A plain canvas that they paint as they wish

No care for who exists behind

A washed out model for a controlling designer

 

So I grew cold as their callous ways doused my fire

Slightly bitter as my light flickered

 

Growing repulsed by their presence

I sought to put myself out

 

But I couldn’t fully achieve it

As their breeze would painfully rekindle my ashes

 

A small flame would burn,

hidden behind a secret bush I had planted

 

So they did not see the flame that burnt

But instead, they would assume

They would only see the forest in the night and feel the cold breeze pinching upon their shoulders

The cold gave them a fright

They would run far into the night

Not realising that I always had light

They just didn’t have the right eyes to pass.

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The Repression of Colonialism

I miss the times that I never experienced

The wild bodies, gyrating to a rhythm that penetrated their hips

And possessed their souls

Dripping with sweat whilst derrières are being grasped

Unashamed of their pleasure penetrating them as a whole

Waist moving to the beat like that of a snake, yet soft and inviting like the wings of a butterfly

A mating call ancient and beyond comprehension

Asking for a blessing  from the Gods

And exalting their names as a rhythmic spirituality leads their feet to become one with the ground.

Like the clashing of worlds and meteors

Bodies meshed, bursting with the power of Universal creation

I miss the times I never had.

 

30sugarshacklarge

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Dimensions of Perspective

As I turned my young face to the sun

I looked at all God had laid before me

To young to comprehend it all, it seemed a thing of beauty

The smudged red, that grew brown at the edges like God had bled

Diving into the centre of the world, everything being drawn in by a fiery orange glow

A beautiful scene was created within me  and yet I sensed more energy

Brown, red, orange and yellow leaves framed this scene

Falling slowly off their trees, in natural poetry

Everything in my young mind was in perfect harmony

Set before me like a creative feast for my imagination

Stunning me in hindsight, from any true realisation

It was a depiction of the horrors that lie

The death that comes once the world had stolen your beauty and gone

The flame of your spirit that slowly dies every time you are unwise

The loud orange sounds of glee, turned dim and brown

Like a casket’s mahogany

Reminders of what this soon shall be

The remainder of Nature’s warm and loving beauty.

Soon to be swallowed till death is nature’s only beauty.

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A jolly death

When your wrists cry out for the blood of your salvation

If Jesus deserved to die, how much more Satan

My self esteem is strewn in darkness with nothing left with me but memories of dreams slowly becoming painful realities

All in a bed of nightmares, though sometimes my soul finds the power to fly free

Free away and into the comfort and warmth

Safety and known

Though often I think I feel the noose around my neck, beckoning me to the comfort of death

Creating for me cursed bed

One I toil to remake over and over

To get all of these destructive thoughts out of my head

Will these things truly plague me till I’m dead?

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