I Bleed Words Sometimes

woman

Rich

Credit: Leopoldo Pomés Campello

The rich…

What do they pick up as they walk through life leaving their prints on the sand?

What do they pick? Empty shells? Pebbles? The washed-ashore bloated dead?

What do they bring to supper? Are there fish to fry on the fire?

Is there kindness in their hearts?

Oh these are questions for the real, not the rich.

Or am I wrong?

Do the rich have a heart?

Do the rich have humility?

May be I’m asking the wrong questions…

Humility is the virtue of the rich.

Those in power either choose to be rich or remain so very poor.

So, let me ask again,

Are YOU Humble?


Lamentation

I have seen the face of selfishness,

It’s repulsive!

I have witnessed the image of unworthiness,

It fills me with disdain.

Every time I look at it, I’m consumed by the insatiable urge to tear it apart.

I look at how pitiful it is and I wonder, how?

How did this come to be? Who made you? What made you?

The answer was staring at me through the mirror.

Mirror

She’s So Ugly

14095953_1070849909631601_9116327375689174467_n

PC: Christine Wu

 

It’s amazing how we are quick to judge

And seldom slow to anger

How we make assumptions and then believe them to be true

How we make our opinions our God

And worship them, blindly, in the temple of our own minds

How we give ourselves more importance than we deserve

How we do NOT give people the respect they deserve

How we think we know best

When really we know nothing at all.

Our mirrors are dusty, just like our minds,

We don’t let the new wash over us

And we let cobwebs of preconceived notions ruin that which can be beautiful

Understanding can be beautiful

Being respectful of other peoples’ beliefs can be beautiful

Imperfections can be beautiful

Ugliness can be beautiful

When will we stop judging and start embracing?

Never.


You Smell Of Memories

Saul Leiter

 

You smell of memories,

And when I’m with you,

The scent of sadness permeates the air,

Leaving me gasping for breath.

 

You smell of yearning,

You smell of lust,

You smell of longing,

You smell of thirst.

 

Darling, you smell of me.

 

Saul Leiter

Both PC: Saul Leiter

 

 


Too much

1625467_942696235761024_3658108102813100371_nPC – Anastasia Smurova.

 

Sometimes we love people too much,

Love is responsibility.

Love is ache waiting to be felt.

Love is a tragedy in the making.

Love is beautiful.

Love makes you do all the things you yourself wouldn’t approve of.

Love pushes you to the point that you do not recognize yourself.

And if that love is poison to someone.

It’s best to let it go.

Sometimes we love people too much to keep them in our lives.


Come, Ruin Me

My Nemesis,

In how many ways can you break my heart?

You surely know more than one.

And how many times can you stomp it sore?

You surely can do more.

How many times can you beat it blue?

Till my heart bleeds dry,

Until I forget you?

Herbert List


It Takes Nothing

20140711-215005-78605371.jpg

It takes nothing…

It takes nothing for me to lose myself in you,

It takes nothing for me to melt away in your hold,

It takes nothing for me to be mesmerised by your sweet, velvet voice,

It takes nothing.

It takes nothing for me to go from loving you to despising your every breath,

It takes nothing for me to go from having you as my universe to shredding it to pieces,

It takes nothing for me to go from worshiping you to hating your every goddamn word,

It takes nothing.

You see… my love,

It takes nothing for me to go from being overjoyed by this life to being miserable and wanting it to end.

It really takes nothing.

I danced with joy in the rain today and then it saddened me.

20140711-215249-78769155.jpg


Evanesce

Thorsten Schnorrbusch

Slowly fading, like the setting sun.
Do you belong to some,
Or to none?

Music drifts further away,
It’s the way of this world.
Never to stay,

Are you watching me smile,
insincere though,
turn away, let me cry a while.

Hold me in your arms,
Then disappear
When I’m calm.

I won’t cry, I promise you,
Please let me be
The one you go to

I’ll listen as you speak,
Will forever
your secrets keep

Just one small promise I seek
You’ll say goodbye
Every time you leave.


Now what?

Tim Walker

 

Now what?

Should I just let the door CLOSE, and shut out the voices?

Or should I fight, knowing it’s a lost battle?

 

Now what?

Should I pick up the pieces?

Or should I DANCE on them and watch the colours unfurl!

 

Now what?

Are you going to just WATCH as I bare myself, moment by moment, piece by piece, one by one, to one and all?

Aren’t you going to stop me? Slap me? Shake me from my trance?

Do you delight in my reverie?

 

Now what, sweetheart?

Now what?

Is there no beginning after this end?

There should be, the stories say so,

Legend says so

History isn’t going to REPEAT itself?

 

But mama made me believe…

And I believed. Sadly, I still do.

This is going to CHANGE, right darling?

You’ll wake up any moment now,

Abandon your grave and hug me tight?

 

I can’t hear you.

You’re scaring me!

Don’t joke with me anymore!

Just SPEAK to me once baby,

Tell me love…

Now What?


Beautiful Mess

20131227-000651.jpg

She sunk further in to the mess she, so beautifully, created,
Every fissure carved out with love,
Every hammer rammed through with passion,
Every cut traced out and made with precision,
Meticulous detailing of the cracks,
Scratched out blue wallpaper…

She breathed the mess through her soul and it came to be!

Her inspiration, you ask?

Oh! nothing really,

Just her heart.

Just her old, tattered, torn, little heart.


A Love Story

What’s lost?
She didn’t mourn during the last rites. Numb with bereavement, she stood motionless.
They lowered his body into the earth and therewith buried her spirit.
She had not wept at all in days. They shook her, wailed, brought forth memories of him, but to no avail.
She had lost the will to feel…

Read and please vote for the full piece here:

http://bit.ly/16Cm8Sj

Appreciate it!

Pina Bausch.

 

 


The Crowd

And when I let it in, it crushed every ounce of me within seconds.

I was a goner the minute I let my guard down.

 

It was as if the consequence I so feared were unraveling in front me at the speed of light.

And the blow… Oh, it was just too fatal.

 

I took a deep breath, again, in search for some solace. Ha, all in vain.

 

Standing there, in the middle of the square, no one could tell the tornado inside.

People indulged in the hustle and bustle of their own lives.

 

Babies crying.

Old couples holding hands walking in the silence of their love.

Young couples fighting over a trivial deal.

Children rushing to school.

Mothers scolding kids.

Father rushing to earn the bread and butter…

 

Standing there in the middle of the square, no one, absolutely no one, could tell there was a tornado whirling within.

The calm facade camouflaging the crumbling structure.

 

So beautiful.
So lovely.
So picturesque.

 

Yes, life is poetry.

 

And I just hugged the soil beneath my feet.


Divine Ipseity

Lydia Roberts.

We’re afraid to face ourselves.

We’re afraid of what it might do to us,

Even worse, what we might never be able to do, ever again.

Once the truth is spilled from our lips,

Ones ugliness is made known.

 

We feed ourselves with pride and then with guilt.

We revolt harmony,

We treat it like we would an enemy.

But why should it matter?

We do what we think we should.

We do what we must.

And in doing so there should be no remorse,

Only contentment, that we did what we truly wanted.

 

There’s great joy in being who you truly are.

No matter how crude, lonely, gruesome, painful it gets.

 

It’s a beautiful melody when we reveal the true ugliness of our soul.

It brings a very evident change in us, celebrates our liberty and all that we are, is made known to all and sundry.

Grace After The Beauty Is Gone.

Grace After The Beauty Is Gone.


The Stage Is Set

Luminous Lu

She staggered through the desert, not stopping for breath, or water.

She recognized that the only way to conquer fear is to saunter on.

And so she did.

 

She held her anguish close to her bosom

A mother looking over her nursling

Glancing at it through the fissure

She wanted to ascertain her own desolation

It gave her courage.

You see, that’s how she was reminded of her mission, her machination, her need and her want.

 

Having walked on for miles, she lost all strength.

But she reminded herself, time and again, to not lose her will.

There’s some formidable power in misery that makes us do crazy things,

And do them well!

 

Hope began to lose its grip.

Because there was nothing but the vast desert, the sand, as far as the eye could see.

She began to cry until her tears ran dry and the sky put on its dark cloak.

 

It was only by the end of her journey that she began to run.

She could finally see the gallows.

Surrounded by voices from her past

Regret, shame, guilt, selfishness, greed, intemperance, love, care, tenderness were bawling their displeasure in the open.

 

Melancholy laments

Despondent her

She ran to her fate

Embraced it like it was her lover

Kissing it with a fierce passion

It was her time to bid adieu

And she did

With a beauteous smile

 

Now that’s a goodbye!


Do You Understand?

Sometimes all you need is for someone to understand you.

For someone to overlook the inequities and embrace the flaws.

For someone to let you scrape your knee and let the tears roll by.

Sit with you, laughing, when you’ve fallen, face down, in a muddy puddle.

Clap, when you’re on stage terribly nervous.

Hug you when you want to be left alone.

 

Someone who…

Walks in your shoes instead of judging you,

But never lets your selfishness go unnoticed

Holds your hand through the proverbial storm

Sticks a foot in the door when you’re closing them out

Gifts you a book, knowing you’ll probably end up weeping all night reading it,

Knowing also, that the gesture would brighten your heart

 

Sometimes you wish you weren’t loved.

But understood.


A Little Dream

Vincent Bourilhon.

I wish so much for you to go, and grow and be.

I wish so much for you to leave.

But somehow, somewhere it’s difficult to say.

It has been difficult to feel.

 

The possibility of a together tomorrow is tempting.

It’s tempting because somehow I know It’s unattainable.

And I’m OK with it being so.

And yet, it’s difficult to see it happen.

 

I’ve wished too much lately,

But here are a few more,

You see it doesn’t hurt to dream.

 

So I wish,

I wish, that when the rain pours down on your face, you miss me,

When the same sun shines upon your frame, you miss me,

When the same moon kisses you under the night sky, you miss me,

When morning comes, you smile, knowing I miss you.

When the night puts on its armor you let down your guard and you miss me.

 

Is that too much to ask?

I think it is.

You see, no one said love would be easy.


Admission Of Guilt

Joe Webb.

I have wronged you,

And there’s nothing I can say to soothe the blister,

Nor anything I can do to take it all away.

I have wronged you and an apology is futile.

 

I replay in my mind over and over,

The venom I spat,

The curses I yelled,

And couldn’t understand why?

 

And that moment it felt right.

 

But does that make it so?

NO!

I was wrong then and I’m mistaken now,

In thinking you’ll relent and let it all slip away.

Let it all go.

Like nothing ever happened.

Like it was all a bad dream.

And we’ll be us again.

Can’t we be us again?

Please.


Summer Rain

dancing_in_the_rain

They sat upon the shore.

Looking straight into nothingness.

They were happy.

 

Away from the chaos.

From the maddening crowd.

They really were happy.

 

She looked at her friend and said, “You know this land is beautiful when it rains.”

“Well,” her friend replied, “This place is beautiful always, everyday.”

 

“Did you see that?” she asked. “No, what?”

“That!” And just like that, it began lightening.

 

And then on that summer midnight hour, it poured.

 

They danced together.

Two insane friends.

Danced on the beach.

Mimicking the waves.

 

***

So the waves,

They danced upon the shore.

The rain,

Drenched us in laughter.

Breaking our hearts,

A million times over.


Him & Her

He was like the wind. The wind that caresses you before it passes you by.

He was the empty night sky. From where I see him, the stars don’t shine anymore.

He was the midnight lamp. The one that goes out when you’ve still got a little more of yourself to pour out.

He was the rose. He was also the thorn that pierced through.

He played with cards. With hearts. And anything that would wreck lives.

She saw a bed of roses at her feet. She was deceived. For they turned into nails…

And steams of blood ran across.

Image


Hey woman!

“A woman knows very well that, though a wit sends her his poems, praises her judgement solicits her criticism, and drinks her tea, this by no means signifies that he respects her opinions, admires her understanding, or will refuse, though the rapier is denied him, to run through the body with his pen.”
~ Virginia Woolf, Orlando

Hey woman,

Do you not understand?

The poems are love, no doubt, but not selfless.

 

Hey woman,

It’s OK to cry.

It’s OK to smile amidst tears too.

Someday it will all be over and they’ll miss you.

 

Hey woman,

Wake up from your slumber you call life.

Look at the bright side,

You survived.

 

Hey woman,

Quit climbing the uphill journey of expectations.

You aren’t worth the disappointment.

You deserve better.

 

Hey woman,

Sometimes you won’t be treated right.

It’s OK.

Believe that you should be.

Walk away even if it hurts.

 

Hey woman,

Don’t be swept away by pretty lies.

Don’t believe everything they say.

Sometimes beautiful words are daggers.

 

Hey woman,

It’s OK to look at the reflection and feel ugly.

It’s OK to feel small.

But don’t forget to get up.

Dust yourself.

And walk again with your head held high.

 

Hey woman,

Love.

Love.

Love.

But love yourself first.

 

Hey woman,

You’re stronger than this.

You’re beautiful.

You’re everything they wish to be.

 

Hey woman,

You’re a woman.

So smile, darling.

Shine bright.