Verges means being pushed to the edge.
Like you are being confronted at a knife point
and you just can’t turn around but to dive
into that abyss while you don’t know how deep it was.
You always say that you can’t let them ruin you
but it’s a plain lie you wish that all is perfect.
If only you can cut the wire and kiss the voltage.
If only you can let the rope grip around the neck.
If only you can break the mirror and embrace danger.
Would it change a thing? Ah but no, you just go on
struggling with your inner demons and chase them
wielding that sword to cut-off somebody else’s head.
For you, everyday is a waging battle of wits and reason.
Perfection is costly. Holiness is fatal. Which one are you?
Nobody is born a saint and you won’t believe it too?
Do you suppose to expect the world will applaud a hero?
You raised the bar too high and it left you there isolated
basking in your self-proclaimed brand of narcissism.
Tell me now then, how it hurts to held onto the razor’s edge.
Or screaming mad in silence when you temporarily got insane.
Does it worth to feed people’s expectations and drag your feet
into that unending precipice while you can’t discern the apex?
Excuse my French, but I think you need to stop this disillusion.
Take a turn towards the direction where your heart leads you.
You might be a simple man- confident and unpretentious. Free.
Our Own Little Places
Posted in Current Affairs, Film, Literature, Nature, Philosophy, Poetry, Relationships, Religion, Social Commentary, Society, tagged after, aged, air, all, ask, battle, befriend, begin, believing, bigness, boredom, calm, cares, carry, come, companion, company, content, country, courage, darkness, days, decision, discover, dreams, dwelling, each, easy, enduring, episodes, evening, everyday, existence, familiar, farewell, farm, folks, forgotten, fowls, friends, gathering, get, good, grind, hope, horizon, hug, irrelevance, joy, lack, learn, life, little, long time, lost, many, matter, mediocrity, milestones, monotony, moon, morning, night time, nothing, orbs, own, peace, perhaps, pillows, places, poem, poetry, prayer, retirement, ripples, rise, rough, school, sea, season, shelter, silence, simple, sisters, sky, small, somebody, someone, someone leaving, something, soul, spaces, spend, stars light, stay, stop, suns, talks, task, things, thinking, thoughts, times, up, usual, wage, warmth old, weather, well, well wishes, whisper, whole, wind, within, witness, wrong, young on July 12, 2013| 2 Comments »
We have to spend our whole life getting up
each morning and see the many suns
rising courageous from the horizon.
A simple life- who knows when to retire
at night time and hug long-time companions
called pillows and dreaming dreams.
There are episodes here, which send ripples
into our seemingly monotonous existence
everyday. And we have to wage battles
with boredom and her sisters- called mediocrity
and irrelevance. But not all were lost.
Somebody needs to learn how to befriend them.
Some may think that something was lacking,
but perhaps in the company of silence we find
orbs of thoughts in the usual grind of days
like the fowls of the air having simple cares.
Season after season. Day after day. Aged
but content to the simple things that matter.
The small country talks over the weather
and life in the farm begins with asking folks
how the young are doing these days at school.
The familiar warmth of seeing old friends at a gathering.
The joy of witnessing someone else’s milestones.
The farewells and well wishes when someone
is leaving our own little places to discover
the bigness of things. There goes a little prayer
and a hope that nothing is wrong when one decides
to stay and carry on doing their tasks each day.
We might spend our whole life thinking it’s good after all,
though it has never been easy and there are rough times.
But it will never stop us believing that peace within
is the only dwelling place, our enduring shelter
when the day comes that we will never be able
to witness the sun and it has forgotten to rise.
In the darkness, we hope our soul in its own little spaces
can see the moon and stars light up the evening sky.
While the wind whispers- all is well, we’ll be calm as the sea.
Read Full Post »