Roses Are Red
Roses are red, violets are blue.
Sugar is sweet, and perhaps so are you.
But the roses have wilted, the violets are dead.
The sugar bowl’s empty, your wrists are stained red.
The sun isn’t shining, the sky isn’t clear.
There is no silver lining, because you’re not here.
The rain keeps pouring, there’s no end in sight.
You’re laying there frozen, so far from the light.
Your beauty’s unreal, your smile the sun.
But time can’t be turned, nor death be undone.
pomegranate seeds and 64 shades of shell blue
strained with dirt under the fingertips
and unhealed scars
a promise of spring
far on the edge of the line
of a tired state
too long nights
leaving you in shell blue
She is hurt
She is dying
She is alone
She is lonely
She is a mess
She is judged
She is ignored
She is suicidal
She is stressed
She is confused
She is fucked up
She is depressed
She is misunderstood
She is tired but still living
She is hurt but won't show it
She is screaming but is silent
She is in pain but still smiling
She is me
Reaching deep into a heart.
Like shooting fireworks…
piercing through the darkest unknown.
Firing up the most vibrant radiance of our inner making.
Or, like stroking music chords,
out of an ancient mythical harp…
touches the most tender place of a hibernated soul.
Earthly natures gently breathing our ancestors’ ancient dreams into being...
Like a sweeping willow tree
overarching the azure blue lake outside my old dormitory windows…
Daytime or dreamtime,
softly and gracefully
mapping out her inner soft tunes and admiration of life,
into the waters that she lays her soft fingers upon…
Like palpating and feeling the very fine fiber of a lover’s inner tender wounds,
even the most gentle soft voice,
can resonate ever so profoundly of
the deepest vulnerable part
resting within my heart.
And then, we can reassure each:
it is Okay
to have flaws.
To be imperfect is to be human and divine.
Let us not being too harsh with the self.
Let us hug our most inner tender wounds,
hug it off…
hugging off all sorts of hurtles and bags of sorrows we’ve been burdening the self,
too heavily for too long, upon
our tender inner path on earth.
Let us surrender,
and dive deeply into the vulnerable portal of the soft inner heart,
the tender place of immense deep-blue ocean of unknown,
the hidden corridor heralding to
mysterious space of infinite possibilities.
Let us awaken the dormant senses, and
awaken every pore of our existence,
Tapping into the infinite expansion of an inner horizon,
fully embracing, receiving…
miracles, blessings and
myriads shapes of
shimmering, sparkling, heavenly gifts on earth.