His muffled voice breaks
the long stretches of silence
while his hand guided
young and untrained hands
practicing calligraphy.
Watchful and demanding precision
of copied texts exacting translation.
As he unbuckles the leathery tome
of secrets in a wooden chest.
Tradition, theology and religion.
Diaries, recipes, scientific notations.
Inventories, census, receipts.
Readings of narratives and poetry,
astrology, proverbs and magic spells.
The volumes of letters, last wills,
songs and words of blessings.
Spending hours and hours sitting
among the piles of pages digging
for clues and answers to mysteries.
The labyrinth of a culture. A treasure.
Each of the fragile pages a wealth
weightier than silver and the gold.
Piecing each fragment in a mosaic
mapping an ancient civilization
long forgotten. He believed, it was
here in his hands lies the fiber, sinew
and muscle of generations of man-
the society is ought to remember.
So he became a warrior, obsessed
with the written word wielding
weapons of passion and wisdom.
With his small army of juvenile scholars
continuing an unpopular legacy.
Waging the classic battle against time,
earth bugs, heat, rot and decay
slowly finding its way like marauders
pillaging the essence of our humanity
into oblivion and brink of extinction.
Solitude Amidst the Maddening Crowd
Tipping Point
Posted in Current Affairs, Literature, Memoirs, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics, Relationships, Social Commentary, Society, tagged abyss, apex, applause, bar, bask, battle, believe, born, brand, break, change, chase, confidence, confrontation, cost, cut, cut-off, danger, deep, demons, direction, discernment, disillusion, dive, drag, edge, embrace, everyday, excuse, expectation, fatal, feed, feet, free, French, grip, head, heart, hero, high, holiness, how, hurts, inner, insanity, isolation, kiss, knife, lead, left, lie, mad, man, might, mirror, narcissism, neck, need, no, nobody, now, One, people, perfect, perfection, plain, poem, poetry, point, precipice, push, raise, razor, reason, rope, ruin, saint, say, scream, self-proclaim, silence, simple, somebody, stop, struggle, suppose, sword, take, tell, temporary, thing, think, tip, toward, turn, unending, unpretentious, verge, voltage, wage, wield, wire, wish, wits, world, worth, you on March 15, 2013| Leave a Comment »
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.
Read Full Post »