LifeSpect . . .

June 12, 2013

‘Golden Showers’

By SiNA

On that fateful mystic night
I was born with all my might

Cinderella had been gone for very long
New fairytales were happening at bay

My life, I lived, that very instant, over there
All the rest was just a dream, recurring déjà vus

I was told that time is none, but one ever-fading ray;
That which is flown before it lights its very way

They mentioned repetition would repeat itself on end;
Every day would be a new one; it would never feel the same

They told me all the gods, that pain was none but what?
An ever-soothing joy; which strives and does survive

They told me: “you’ll be fine. So as long as you let live.”
I was told that I’d be grim, that I’d feel grief; that I would scream.

They spoke of golden tunnels; that we’d pass through as we go
They mentioned sunlit bays; that we’d walk by as we probe

I heard that we are none; but the breeze of breathing lives
I was bestowed with golden powers, gifted treasures, brimming souls

They gave me much of light; I was touched with glows of might
It was said that I would fight; all the darkness, till it’s bright

I was told that I’d be honored; for all the beauty which I’d brought
Into this world of dozen dreams; in through the daze of all that seems!

They spoke of angels, ever present; light-lit guardians of hope
They mentioned feathered creatures; they would call them ‘you’ and ‘me’

The rain would come to offer me a kiss, they said, once I needed it the most
That shining drops of bliss would offer me much joy, once I needed it the most

The lack of lack would be around; once all my pain I’ve lived
Back in time, even above; once timelessness I’ve breathed

Non-existent, ever present; ever joyful, filled with hope
No resistance, ever flow-ful, ever brimful with one love

I was told about that time, through which I would be mine
I’d be owned by none of thought, by none self, by none of lies

I was told of ‘Golden Showers’; they were born, already born
I was simply an accomplice; I was merely just a route

Cause Golden Showers had been present, many centuries behind;
Cause Golden Showers were a wisdom; born beyond us and our time

Yes, Golden showers were divine; they were mine and also thine
Golden Showers were the secret; of these very mystic times.

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May 19, 2013

Diversatile: A note to self

By SiNA

I look at me and I see you; I must say, oh I do like what you see;
I love the imprints you’ve laid upon me; it’s heartfelt what I see…

I want to dance upon my dare
On these dreary days of daze

What you’ve laid upon my eyes
It’s just a look; and yet it’s not

This world might be a dream
In which we walk upon our doubt

We swing along our hope
We shine along our love

The smoothness of this music
I’ve felt before in time

Another life, another time
Another universe of mine

This calmness of a touch
One that quenches and devours

This stillness of a glance
Upon eyes which have been lost

They’ve been found, time and again
But never yours and neither mine

Until this timelessness of ours
Which discovered us and died

Until this universe of ours
In which we drowned, went further up

It’s diversatile, this dream
Diversatile this dare

It’s diversatile this love
I’m aware this time around

This universe bestowed
Upon my heart, upon my soul

All the glory and the joy
That I’d kept from me and you

This cosmos gave of light
Through darkness realms of thought

It’s diversatile, this life
This light upon my might

Diversatile and right
Diversatile is right

Diversatile, my life
Diversatile survives…

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April 14, 2013

I had left my favorite pair somewhere. They were white running ones with ad hoc bright green stripes. They used to fit perfectly; I could still close my eyes and picture them perfectly, if even from a dream I had of them. Where did I leave them? It’s not every day that you open your eyes and realize a pair of your shoes is simply gone! Ugh, but why did it have to be that very pair? It was the perfect pair… I can’t even remember where I bought them, or if I’d bought them at all. My lovely pair, it’s time to accept the fact; they are gone; it’s time for acceptance and letting go; as always.

And then there were the gray ones; the ones with bits of red here and there; those were super comfortable and the perfect thing for long walks. Whatever the hell happened to those! Ugh, this was definitely a nightmare. On the same day?! And two pairs! If I hadn’t seen some weird shit in my time, I wouldn’t have believed any of this. Yes, they were also gone; had simply disappeared from the face of the earth, just like that.

I felt as if my identity had faded away along with them. I couldn’t really decide, whether I had to walk bare feet now; it would be so strange to walk in any other pair other than the two. I had counted on the two pairs very much; had relied on them. Then again, what can you truly rely on in this life? It’s almost like a never-ending nightmare at times.

The very idea of growing a pair of wings was an obsession in vain; as if any other obsession would ever amount to anything at all! But let’s say-if only for today-that one could really have the ability to do so; that the mere notion of daydream would-for once-turn into a phenomenon, only a touch more tangible. Would I then care at all for shoes of any kind? Would I be in need of any other pair, ever again?

On my way to the airport, as I was sitting in the back seat, listening to the countless voices in my head, I was distracted from the many scattered thoughts by the reflection of a very familiar shade of green… I looked down; they weren’t there. I looked up; they were nowhere to be found… was I now seeing things? Had I gone delusional as well as many hundred other things that this life had turned me into? I longed for them once more; somewhere between my less-than-perfect acceptance and my ever-brimming confusion.

The belonging

By SiNA

What’s this pain? What have I gained? What’s this bitterness of days?

There’s no smile upon my lips; there’s no way around these tears

I have lost my self and way; I have fallen through a wave

This has never been my way; and has ruined the hope of rays

They have killed it, dimmed its glaze; and have thrown me in a daze

Inside a bottle, through the waters; but these waters are my tears!

There’s no ocean, there’s no bay; I just float in what I’ve shed

This duality of doubts; has turned threefold and fourfold-

Of rushing poisons of the mind; they’ve made me dumb as well as blind

I am no one at the moment; I’m a Nobody inside!

I’m a spirit of a someone; I once thought I were to be

I had to be a certain someone; someone known to those I knew

I had to feel a certain feeling; but sometimes feelings turn to naught

Nightmares ever present are the gift of darkened mind

Monsters so relentless are the offspring of the blind

I’ve been meaning to find light; since I’ve always felt its might

I’ve been ever after light; that blinding, seeing white…

I hope it takes me where it might; I do trust it with my heart

I wish it lifts me where it must; I feel listless, I need part.

I ask for magic, the divine; It’s just time they intertwined

These wounds have taken over; a shattered soul of many years

This pain has overstayed and overstayed and it shall fade…

They say that one day I’ll survive; when’s that ‘one day’, Someday soon?

They tell us strive, forever strive! All this effort is for what, is this the life?

I had hoped for something real; is this what’s real, A fading dream?

Or is this clinging to a pain which has lingered through what seems-

To be what life has come to be; to be what days have come to see?

Or is it just Life that’s ever-cruel and ever-giving, ever sane?

Perhaps it’s me who is insane; perhaps it’s me who has to fade, and not the pain!

I guess it’s me who has to leave; be non-existent like my joy

I know it’s me who has to be; among the trees and through the breeze

Where I’ve ever longed to be…

Leave a comment | posted in Poetry

February 1, 2013

Telos

By SiNA

Someday soon you will survive; you’ll strive and let loose and embrace the beauty of freedom.

One of these days, joy, you shall encounter once more; bliss, you shall mingle with again.

The ache of a broken heart is overrated through the passing tears which you have already shed.

Your desert eyes still reminisce the presence of a cactus they once held at heart; and the cactus shall survive and be again; and it shall live again, the cactus.

Yes, and beauty you shall breathe once more; sorrow shall you never feel again; for you have known of the joy in ignorance, the pain in denial and the plague of poisoned thoughts.

You have known of the weary winds of repetition, the greed in doing none, the hollow shades of darkness that do captivate your soul.

You’ve been down in dumps of misbelief; the disbelief in life; you’ve been arrowed to directions, you had never really known.

All these arrows, all these lies, have made you stronger though, today; they have killed you and revived you into someone wiser though; they have put you on a mountain peak while giving you no hope, they have shown you of the cosmos, things you’d never ever known.

Vapid, tastelessness of days is non-existent, ever fades. Sun is shining, ever bright! We get out there to stop fighting; with the soul, with our existence, with our very many selves. It’s just a soul, it needs of light; it needs of loving, gentle might.

It needs no fright, your heart of gold; so don’t you try to be afraid! All of fear, of darkened mind, you dispose of just like that.

Perfect harmony of rays, all shall tingle through your days; love abundant, every corner you shall breathe.

Sometimes all you need is your solitude. A moment that could detach you from all you know; from all that ‘defines’ you every moment. There comes a moment where you feel like you shall move and let go of all that ‘knows’ you; from all that you ‘think’ you know.

No one does truly define us; no moment does truly determine your fate in the ever-blowing breeze of life. We cannot be defined, labeled, expired or pushed.

Why am I doing what I am doing? Neither the thing you do, nor the moment does define you.

You are taking action; even though the action does not define you.

The trees, are-at times-on your left; but then there are times that the same trees appear on your right; this is the secret of Life…

Marcel

By SiNA

Marcel had never been a big fan of suicide; even though, at this point in his life, all situations, all the many thoughts in his head came down to only one thing; jumping off that window the view of which he enjoyed every day and to end it right then and there. But Marcel knew much better than that, he knew that, jumping off that window would not really be the end of what he felt needed closure. No, jumping off would only be to him, a temporary alleviation of this recurring pain they had labeled for him as Life.

His problem was the memories he had never had from certain phases of his childhood. Only fragments, bits and pieces which didn’t help at all. He needed to have a childhood in his heart; something to cling to every now and then and feel good about. About his bitter, difficult life; his life was not miserable, but difficult, it definitely was. He of all people really needed a childhood. But whenever he looked back, he would realize more, how little there was to hold onto. For instance, he didn’t remember ANY of his childhood birthdays, except for the one he had repeatedly caught on video tape; the one in which the camera man had decided that filming the ugly antics of a distant cousin of his in that ugly pink woolen dress more interesting than filming Marcel on his own birthday. In that video, in the few things that Marcel could see himself, he had noticed time and again the look of discontent in his eyes. As if the situation had beguiled him, betrayed him in a way; as if Life had been a liar all along; to a 5 year old, this could be quite a burden.

All he could remember of his childhood were those moments of curiosity. Those moments that always made him end up in less-than-pleasant situations. Alone, on the piano seat, next to him; someone uttering these words: “put your hand here.” And another angry voice coming from the other side: “put your hand WHERE?!” a voice telling him: “lie down”; and he doing it simply because he had been told to do so. Indeed, he had been a submissive individual all his life; a slave to the choice of others; anyone’s choice but his. This had hurt him all along; today, more than ever. He thought, he used to be much stronger as that child, whose childhood he couldn’t- for the life of him-recall. He thought he had helped the child heal at some point; but turns out, that little child had gone through much more to be healed this easily…or at all.

He was writing to Marcel today; for Marcel. Hoping he could somehow reach out to a memory in the past of a soul whose whole existence had been scattered through the realm of his many lost moments. He thought, perhaps his words could trace back the many tears which had never been shed; his many moments of suffocated silence, present in the lost look he could now see in photographs from those days; or even in the mirror at times.

Marcel’s thoughts yet lingered, as he lied there on his bed; as good as dead; with a severe case of zetlessness and blues. The window which beheld the most amazing view he had ever seen was the only source of interest to him these days; it was in a way, calling him. He listened. All he could hear was: “come. Jump. Be free.”
But Marcel knew better than that. Marcel had nothing to lose and yet…

And yet…

He was afraid of not losing himself; but of losing this bitter sensation in which he had invested for as long as his bitter lifetime. This lifetime though, had not ever been bitter; it hadn’t been all tears and pain; no, for those scarce moments of joy, he longed for and desired. He closed his tearful eyes and tried to reach out for the universe. He asked the universe to embrace his shattered soul; his severed being…

The universe replied none. It was just his own voice which echoed back to him: “no, you’re not going to do it. You are a survivor and this pain is not eternal. This too, shall pass and you know it. You know it very well. You know much better than this. You are powerful. They envy you. Give them a reason to keep doing that. You are a performer. Finish this act in all your glory. Kill it!”

And Marcel lived ever after…

2012 in review

By SiNA

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 4,100 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 7 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

Sunlit Bay

By SiNA

Don’t you touch me, don’t you dare!
No one touches me that way.

Don’t you lie to me; beware!
No one’s worth it, I won’t care.

When you’ve reached your turning point,
Know that you won’t be alone.

When I’ve reached my turning point,
Know that you’ll be on your own.

So play it fair, your little game,
Don’t break rules of pain and gain.

If you want it, cherish this;
You shall breathe me, beg for this!

Otherwise you’re just a speck
A speck of dust upon the hill which-

I can blow with none of effort;
Don’t you wish for none of comfort!

It’s just a dream, for you a dream,
And forever you shall dream…

You can’t touch this, don’t you dare-
It’s not for you, just grin and bear!

You’re not worth it, you don’t fit-
In this love-filled, sunlit field

You’re no maker, you’re not made-
Of this soulful, golden clay

No, you’re useless; you’re no good
You need grow for many morrows!

You need rest upon your doubt;
So that one day you might know

Till that ‘one day’ living creature-
You can rest upon your lack

Till that ‘one day’ non-existent-
You may play your games on track.

With your teeny little toys;
With your teeny little selves

Yes, you’ve heard it little self!
Keep on playing little games-

Till you’ve overgrown your self
And have died upon your dare-

Till you’ve dared to pay the price,
And have turned into a dream

That’s my deal, you ‘non-existent’
Play it rough and play it right

We have no time for instructions,
Self-destruction’s at the door!

Just don’t touch me, keep away-
Till you’ve sought me all the way

Through shadows of charade
And Through rays of sunlit bay

Leave a comment | posted in Poetry

December 27, 2012

The Void

By SiNA

I feel empty and devoid-
Of every single thing I’ve been

I am tired and am bored-
Of all my vision’s ever seen

Of broken hearts, of endless dreams;
Those have intertwined with mine.

Of your passion, non-existent
Of my yearning, always there!

What I lack now isn’t real;
It has never really been!

What I ask for isn’t here
But has it ever truly been?

By ‘here’, this place isn’t what I mean,
No, ‘This Lifetime’s’ what I mean!

Today, this very moment-
I am feeling something real;

That I’ve never really been-
What I’ve felt that I have been

This moment speaks of truth
Stop clinging to a dream…

A dream that’s ever fading
A joy you’ve never seen!

This moment, feel it right
Feel the emptiness of touch

Feel the darkness of a shadow
That has followed you as such

The shadow has now found you
You are haunted by its touch

No such light for you to feel;
Nothing bright for you to see

It’s time for darkness; end of times
Belated death, there’s no escape

You need face it, lonely self
You need see it, for yourself

4 comments | posted in Poetry

December 21, 2012

The Dandelion

By SiNA

So I wake up one fine morning
Awaiting world, a newer world

The end of yesterday at dawn
The very end of ups and downs

So I wake up just to be love
As I wake up this today

As I wake up just to be
Joy and happiness and free

But I wake up for tomorrow
I don’t wake up for today

Yesterday still does linger
Thought I’d wished for it to fade

So I wake up this fine morning
Wanting zest upon my day

But all the rest, also the same
Wanting same and fearing same

We’re not sane at all today
Nor coming days, nor yesterday!

This is madness we are facing
As we live through all our days

Recognition of a past
Resurrection of a morrow

Some attention through the world-
That has given us much hope

And we are hopeful every day?
Or deprived of shining rays?

We do wake up every morning,
Wanting freshness of a mist

We want remedies that heal
We want stories that exist

But is it seeking that we’re doing-
Wishful thinking, taking risks?

Do we know what we are feeling-
As we’re feeling every day?

Do we fear it, end of joy?
Do we leave it, what we’re told?

Or are we wondering, do we wander-
In the hopeful sense of life?

That’s existent, non-existent,
Ever fading with no strife?

We are living, we’re believing-
Every molecule of thought

We’re seeking all our thoughts
Hoping hearts have made them thought

We are leaving every day
For a world of no tomorrow

Every yesterday, ahead
We have left it at the door

So you wake up one fine morning
It’s not the end, there is no end!

It shall always be a day
For that who’s felt the rays

Leave a comment | posted in Poetry

LifeSpect . . .

‘Golden Showers’

Diversatile: A note to self

Shoes

The belonging

Telos

Marcel

2012 in review

Sunlit Bay

The Void

The Dandelion

Stats

.SiNA.

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