12:22

A Narrative



The self is a created colourful narrative,
Where the narrator is lost in translation
Between cultures so different, yet, the
Play keeps going with great soliloquys:
Cells navigating beyond comprehension,
Treasure hunting guided by copious stars,
To trace their origin; a forgotten history,
But the self moved to another dimension
To duplicate a foreseen persona of itself,
And thus, force fuelled into angelic beings
To fulfil desires of the soul, body and mind,
Ending the colourful narrative of the self.


Tuesday, the 20th of January 2015

19:52

Just another Visit to the Doctor’s



The silence flew like a huge phoenix
Into the molten lava casting a dark
Silhouette… or maybe not!
It was still there, the silence, and I was
Sitting waiting for someone to call my name.
The chair was so huge that five morbidly fat
Emperors can sit next to each other and
I will still fit. No, actually, that wasn’t right!
It was incredibly small that I kept trying to avoid the
Cold metal edge, trying to stay on that comfy cushion,
And then the secretary stood at the door of this
Gigantically tiny room and before she said anything
I stood up when suddenly she smirked like an
Evil witch, and cried loudly: “Oh! She’s not in yet!”
I went back to my little corner sighing as loud as –
And there he stood, the doctor with a nice,
Colourful dress, really smart! Wait!
Scratch that out because he was as dull
As a dead log on the bottom of a swamp
That was filled with gruesome algae.
Anyways, he called my name, or a form of it
That I did distinguish, because no creature
Living on this dreadful place called Earth
Has a name such as mine, not even that phoenix,
Remember? The one who flew away
Taking all the world’s joy with him,
Leaving me in this boring boring bor – you get it!


Thursday, 15th of January 2015

16:37

Innocence of Children



I laughed at me within me,
And to me it was so hilarious,
But Meme kept looking at me
In great wonder that I walked to her,
But the me in me stood still,
Maybe Meme will come and play,
And there was Yu, Mr Yu Young,
A very clever teacher,
He taught me and Meme many
Wonderful things, and Yu also
Painted big pictures of kids;
Of being young like Mr Young,
And me is a very young kid,
And Yu taught me simple words,
Like Meme, Young, and us
Who destroyed our school
Last year and me, Yu, and Meme
Had to move to a different school,
Because us kept throwing bad
Stuff like bombs, and killing
Many many innocent people,
And one day the hope of my world
Will become the one Yu mentioned
In the storybooks where me and Meme
Can ride cute colourful unicorns,
And go to huge castles in the mountains,
So that all of humans can live under one
Sky – not the one us is living under,
But one that me, Yu, and Meme can live!


Friday, 2nd January 2015

03:51

One Life



The sun did definitely rise,
But never did it set within,
An inner sense of loss begins,
As I speak to this chilly wind,
Letters to those willed to live.


Thursday, 11th of December 2014