Fifth Epochal Revelation
Spontaneous, not predictable
Respectable but not formal,
Adventurous but not haphazard,
Fully focused but never monotonous,
Rich and full without indulgences,
Timeless without boredom,
Spaceless but directional,
Can’t Get Enough
That fleeting feeling when listening to soulful music is the ear trying to catch it's harmonious shades and hues of melody.
Cutie-Navaeh you're not alone. This was my life. I overcame, and so will you.
We were living there in 1993.
The whole night my father and mother argued.
They were not loud, and the issue was food as usual.
We were hungry.
In the morning, my father got up and went out.
My mother woke up and roused me.
She requested that I place the stove on a stool by her bed.
She wanted to check whether the stove had enough kerosene.
Presently, my father came back. He had gone out to relieve himself.
He found my mother checking the stove.
He hit the stove with so much force and anger, it flew apart and spilt kerosene all over.
He then washed up, dressed and went out.
We embraced the hunger.
Dream logic is me hugging my cat and describing the colour of that experience.
With trembling determination I
survive through an unforgiving present,
With nostalgic sighs I recall a memorable past,
With apprehensive dread I glimpse an uncertain future.
Who knows, who will with liberated words reveal this elusiveness of meaning; free the longing SOUL from the grips of Time and limitations of Space?
Is it possible to make the world a better place without money?
Is altruism realizable without wealth as a prerequisite?
Love is a malady of emotions.
One minute the yearning is gone,
Only to return with a vengeance.
Love is a dull ache that won't go away,
Ever constant, a nagging reminder of then,
What we shared, what we did.
The lengthy phone conversations,
The discreet visits, the long hugs,
The languid kisses, the trembling caresses.
I truly, truly miss you, my love.
(I wrote this on 10/02/2014, to my then-girlfriend)
And this freeing,
From this being.
When it is yet,
Is when I fret.
When it is ready,
Can't hold steady.
Yearning for the loss,
While making the toss.
Willing for the real win,
Delivery from the sin bin.
Ought I not consider all the risks?
The ramifications or ratifications?
I have the nerve, for I am of love,
They all turn to look, we don't run.
They talk, we walk.
While behind their hands, they whisper,
Within our hearts our true love glimmers.
Or could they be lost?
It is us, are they cost?
They say; there's another way,
I say; but you are my better day.
Give me your hand and show them we will soar,
In envy see how they land, till their butts are sore.
Kiss me dear and have no fear,
They'll steer clear and won't come near.
Hug me honey, and don't ever let go,
The looks, funny, envy has taken hold.
Let's make love, for we have the nerve,
Such lot, looking daft it will properly serve.
Listen to that! That I will die,
What do I say? That they lie.
I love you, I want you.
Marry me and be true.
(I've always imagined eternity's gate to be rusty)
Back when I thought I was free,
Even ridiculed pew warmers in glee,
Unmindful of the dark needed to flee,
Believing believing fools will pay a fee,
The isolation, never letting myself see,
Endless dreams, I found it hard,
Now I'm thinking of coming back,
Hold open and ready your arms,
The assurance of another chance,
I'm willing for the life that lasts,
When called I had to return,
When my turn, I came back,
Into the hold of ready arms,
No secret pacts,
No needless fasts,
No regurgitated facts,
That gate ever rusting,
With my fate everlasting.
That rusted gate,
Eternity, am I late?
Have I sealed my fate?
My destiny is my date,
That eternity as I gaze,
Challenges never daze,
Struggles will never faze,
Clear vision, no foggy haze,
If sincere, life is not a maze.