i invite you to take me higher,
to wallow in the greatest of depths
with me, to defy any and all
known measures of time and dimensions
of infiniteness, but what do they
mean without your color, without
your trace, my thoughts falter
to define the loss and the space
and now could only design
a vague sense of neglect ~
of the words i could have uttered
but chose not to, of blood that
lets your affiction cut too deep,
denying me of my peace.
suddenly
disappointment suddenly takes
shape in murmurs and starving
silences of your heart and mine
my thoughts devour the urge to
hold your hand and instead
replaces it with a grasp, a clutching
of a familiar cloth, my own skin
and this will be the way
until it understands your cause
and your reason, my spirit fragile
from the breaking of voices,
allowing your stares to lacerate
that which exists, even tat which
does not, walking away from a battle.
shape in murmurs and starving
silences of your heart and mine
my thoughts devour the urge to
hold your hand and instead
replaces it with a grasp, a clutching
of a familiar cloth, my own skin
and this will be the way
until it understands your cause
and your reason, my spirit fragile
from the breaking of voices,
allowing your stares to lacerate
that which exists, even tat which
does not, walking away from a battle.
the wisdom of nelly furtado
if not for work tonight, i would, most emphatically stay up the entire afternoon to conjure more things to discuss and rant and babble about.
a couple of weeks ago, i got myself a black tickler, something i could use to take note of ideas i would want to put on my blog. i so far have filled a couple of pages and i couldn't be any more delighted...or relieved. whichever comes first.
i always second guess myself so i really didn't think i'll come up with such a list. it fills me with awe and hope. that even when the daily demands of family and work get me too exhausted (for the most part!) to write, i know it just takes an hour or something of silence and i'll re-discover that the passion and fire has not waned.
and the more i see the less i grow
the fewer the seeds the more i sow
try by nelly furtado
gestalt
today feels so 'random.' or maybe it's just me. or maybe this time i can fall back to my usual 'excuse' that work keeps me from doing what i love.
i did not know how to begin. i was seriously considering flipping through the pages of my dictionary (a graduation present i was given when i was in grade school) and pointing at a word that might make it a little easier for me to start today's post.
then i remembered the term 'gestalt,' which, in the simplest way would mean 'patterns.'
the last few months, or year, depends on when you started reading felt exactly just like that. it is breathing and living with patterns. the rise and fall of thoughts and curiosities. the upward and downward motion of feelings and insanities.
don't get me wrong. there is nothing i would love more than to keep this blog looking hectic, but that's precisely it! my life has been inexplicably hectic. you know how i am. i have this penchant for reading 2-3 books at the same time. i would usually stop and pick up a different material when i find the other one becoming tasteless and bleak.
and if i am not reading, i am probably having coffee, which includes conversations that stretch from 'here' to 'there,' which of course i would not just give up. if not for reading, coffee and conversations i would be...asleep. weird habits and lifestyle.
right now, i find myself sitting alone, with a miserable view of my shelf and my books collecting dust. despite the horror and pain of seeing what i am seeing right now, there is no experience quite like having a room for yourself, surrounded by the most beautiful stories and poems ever written, trying to argue with your demons and constantly challenge your limits.
i am imani.
i did not know how to begin. i was seriously considering flipping through the pages of my dictionary (a graduation present i was given when i was in grade school) and pointing at a word that might make it a little easier for me to start today's post.
then i remembered the term 'gestalt,' which, in the simplest way would mean 'patterns.'
the last few months, or year, depends on when you started reading felt exactly just like that. it is breathing and living with patterns. the rise and fall of thoughts and curiosities. the upward and downward motion of feelings and insanities.
don't get me wrong. there is nothing i would love more than to keep this blog looking hectic, but that's precisely it! my life has been inexplicably hectic. you know how i am. i have this penchant for reading 2-3 books at the same time. i would usually stop and pick up a different material when i find the other one becoming tasteless and bleak.
and if i am not reading, i am probably having coffee, which includes conversations that stretch from 'here' to 'there,' which of course i would not just give up. if not for reading, coffee and conversations i would be...asleep. weird habits and lifestyle.
right now, i find myself sitting alone, with a miserable view of my shelf and my books collecting dust. despite the horror and pain of seeing what i am seeing right now, there is no experience quite like having a room for yourself, surrounded by the most beautiful stories and poems ever written, trying to argue with your demons and constantly challenge your limits.
i am imani.
as if
the thunder make the skies swell with
an inevitable ache, my mind drowns in
the pleasure of anaesthesia ~ in its
simplest, rawest form ~ which is a being
named you ~ a being whom I named my
prayer and desire, my reason and my
battle, now the hours lay on the bed
awaiting your gentle mercy to decide
its fate, the anger of rain drench the
flowers that thirst for light, and i am
moved by the sudden, gaping void in
my room, now without you, now helplessly
remembering the seconds you held
my body as if it were your own.
an inevitable ache, my mind drowns in
the pleasure of anaesthesia ~ in its
simplest, rawest form ~ which is a being
named you ~ a being whom I named my
prayer and desire, my reason and my
battle, now the hours lay on the bed
awaiting your gentle mercy to decide
its fate, the anger of rain drench the
flowers that thirst for light, and i am
moved by the sudden, gaping void in
my room, now without you, now helplessly
remembering the seconds you held
my body as if it were your own.
crave
your eyes brimming with petals
of unknown flowers, craving the next
weeping moment, or the second that
holds your laughter unseen but thundering
a heart that desires the heedless, selfish
prism that carry the waves that
you have given existence to, suddenly
all the things you hide emerge from
a vague sense of drowning, clasping the
shadow your gaze makes, grasping for
one, final, harrowing breath
entangled to the dark, bristled
tethers of my mind, haunted by the
drifting scent of your skin.
of unknown flowers, craving the next
weeping moment, or the second that
holds your laughter unseen but thundering
a heart that desires the heedless, selfish
prism that carry the waves that
you have given existence to, suddenly
all the things you hide emerge from
a vague sense of drowning, clasping the
shadow your gaze makes, grasping for
one, final, harrowing breath
entangled to the dark, bristled
tethers of my mind, haunted by the
drifting scent of your skin.
stray
my thoughts stray to you this very moment, and there is nothing that embraces my heart in this wild and pensive afternoon save your fire ~ everything that i can recall of you. the fire in your spirit, the gentleness of your gaze, the compassion in your touch, the bravery of your words. i am missing you terribly, my love. i couldn’t bear having to sleep on my bed alone. i have a confession to make. i don’t believe i still know what it is like to spend my days alone. i have grown familiar with your laughter and sigh, your stories which you utter just before we head to slumber. and now i am seeking the sound of your voice. and let me tell you this, my love. there is nothing quite like it. there is no one quite like you. there couldn’t be. and how fortunate am i for having stumbled upon you, or, waiting just long enough so you may find me. you have sustained me the past year and a half, and i know i’d be counting my blessings every single day, for the rest of my life.
so, thank you. none of which i have ever mentioned, done, or written would suffice to show you and let you know just how much you mean to me, how much of my life you have changed for the better. even when my body is tired after a long day of work and toil, i do not want to do anything right now but think of you. you crowd my thoughts and keep my heart beating, and even when the daily craziness of my life suffocates me and pushes me to the edge, looking at you and hearing you is enough to lift my spirit. i do not know how you do it, but I now believe that some things, or in this case, some beings are made only of two things ~ love and magic. that is you. there hasn’t been anything you have created or uttered that weren’t made of those. your love resembles the peace after a storm, the flowers that blossom after a hard and unforgiving winter, the dawn that follows dusk. thank you for making me realize that there is much goodness in life than i thought it held for me. you were that gift, that wonder, that surprise that was waiting for me in the end. and who would have thought that the end would afford me a new beginning? thanking you would be one of those that i could do, but more than these words i engrave on paper, i want you to know, understand and believe that i will love you, in the face of harshness, impatience, or lack of understanding.
so, thank you. none of which i have ever mentioned, done, or written would suffice to show you and let you know just how much you mean to me, how much of my life you have changed for the better. even when my body is tired after a long day of work and toil, i do not want to do anything right now but think of you. you crowd my thoughts and keep my heart beating, and even when the daily craziness of my life suffocates me and pushes me to the edge, looking at you and hearing you is enough to lift my spirit. i do not know how you do it, but I now believe that some things, or in this case, some beings are made only of two things ~ love and magic. that is you. there hasn’t been anything you have created or uttered that weren’t made of those. your love resembles the peace after a storm, the flowers that blossom after a hard and unforgiving winter, the dawn that follows dusk. thank you for making me realize that there is much goodness in life than i thought it held for me. you were that gift, that wonder, that surprise that was waiting for me in the end. and who would have thought that the end would afford me a new beginning? thanking you would be one of those that i could do, but more than these words i engrave on paper, i want you to know, understand and believe that i will love you, in the face of harshness, impatience, or lack of understanding.
i would never let the world win. for you have become greater than this world. you have become its reason and its origin. you have become the axis that permits it go go around. you have become the universe. i will not stop, i will remain. i love you as ever.
cycle
a revolution, a complete, tangible
resolve, a naked twilight and
a fragile dawn that you clasp
in your hands doubting
there could be a beginning to this end
the taste is bitter yet my mind
unfastens the thread that lock
the memory of your smile and your stare
your incandescent absences make of the
velvet moonlight such a useless and vague
sight, the hollow within me gets emptier still
awaiting a beat, a hum, a rhythm, a dance,
an adagio, a rise and fall between
the breath and sigh of your furtive eyes.
resolve, a naked twilight and
a fragile dawn that you clasp
in your hands doubting
there could be a beginning to this end
the taste is bitter yet my mind
unfastens the thread that lock
the memory of your smile and your stare
your incandescent absences make of the
velvet moonlight such a useless and vague
sight, the hollow within me gets emptier still
awaiting a beat, a hum, a rhythm, a dance,
an adagio, a rise and fall between
the breath and sigh of your furtive eyes.
curve
your eyes, lonesome and listless
wondering if my hands would
ache for and seek the plains and
contours of your body i have
adored, desired, hailed in silence
suddenly, i thought to myself
why dare the days and nights that
would unfold after this very moment
when you can claim and exalt
the next ten years ~ see me
year, discover, discern and delight in
the scars and flaws that make you
the lines and curves that define
the one i love, my flame and my lifetime.
wondering if my hands would
ache for and seek the plains and
contours of your body i have
adored, desired, hailed in silence
suddenly, i thought to myself
why dare the days and nights that
would unfold after this very moment
when you can claim and exalt
the next ten years ~ see me
year, discover, discern and delight in
the scars and flaws that make you
the lines and curves that define
the one i love, my flame and my lifetime.
react
leaning into the conundrum
seeking how you would react
to the feel of my skin
labored with the heady,
amorous, purple haze
of flesh, you reap the breadth
of this soul, broken and dissembled
by a sigh, i await
the next touch with bated
breath, mourning as the hour
passes, inevitably, the ink
seeps into the papyrus,
the way my lips would crave
for the metallic taste of your waters.
seeking how you would react
to the feel of my skin
labored with the heady,
amorous, purple haze
of flesh, you reap the breadth
of this soul, broken and dissembled
by a sigh, i await
the next touch with bated
breath, mourning as the hour
passes, inevitably, the ink
seeps into the papyrus,
the way my lips would crave
for the metallic taste of your waters.
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