Pulchritude

They talk of beauty in absolute terms

Then subjugate it

To paltry subjectiveness

Till it reaches insulting objectification

I wonder

What become of appreciation

Isn’t gratitude

Its own gratification

Isn’t there a little beauty

In every creation?

Let’s, for once,

Behold it again and

Make that humankind’s salvation?

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She Smiled to Conquer?

A gaping hole peered through

Where once a glass ceiling was

Up high

Smiling down at the shattered remnants

A statue of Lady Liberty

Majestically rose

Eons it’s taken

With decades still to go

For the delicately strong lines

Of the Sculptor to show

Writing destiny

Across a marble-like

Pristinity

Stick it to Life

I know it won’t get me anywhere

But, I do it anyway

I know it won’t help me get recognition

But, I help anyway

I know it won’t lead me to the desired milestone

But, I walk it anyway

I can feel I’m getting sucked into quicksand

But, I paddle anyway

I know I’ll drown if I move an inch further

But, I swim anyway

I know I’m nearing a blackhole

But, I face it anyway

I know I’ll shatter in a fraction of a second

But, I build it anyway

I know life while happen to me any which way

With no set plan

Nor preconceived notion

With no warning, threat or premonition

And yet,

I’m going to live anyway.

Can you love the version of me?

Can you love the version of me

I don’t, I don’t let anybody else see?

Can you look beyond what’s visible

To appreciate what’s consequential?

Can you let go of your senses

And see the world as I do, free of all pretences?

Can you love the version of me

With which even I don’t very much agree

Can you accept

To be forever at odds

Knowing full well

That sparring has its own rewards

Can you love the version of me

That’s like a shy child hiding behind a tree

Can you draw me out and break the ice

So that I don’t unduly pout but play nice

Can you love the version of me

That didn’t get the memo to be

A little less of what I think

Instead of every bit of what I feel

Can you love the version of me

That truer than truth and set me free?

Can you love the version of me

I don’t, I don’t let anybody else see?

Jettisoning

Cruel mistresses

Memories

Leading you on

With false hopes

Pulling you back

When you need to break free

Bless them

Curse them

Love them

Hate them

There’s no escape

From serving then

But it’s a shipwreck

This life

And the first rule

That sailors swear by

Is to jettison the baggage

Lighten the load

And maybe

Just maybe

The sinking ship

Will right itself

Then steer it on

To better horizons

Gathering more memories

From every port that touches your helm

And then when the time’s ripe

Unload yourself all over again

Because memories

Cruel mistresses be

Any tips on forgetting memories, oh wise sages of the blogosphere? Need to lighten my weary head a tad. Thanks in advance, loves!

Survivor

And one day you’ll realise

All the hours spent

In Crying

And decrying

Yourself

Weren’t your defeats

Or even proof

Of your weaknesses

Rather

A testament to your strength

For you stared into the abyss

And when it stared right back

You didn’t collapse

But walked on ahead

You survived

And that, my dear,

Makes you

Beyond reproof.

Featured image is copyrighted. To see more artwork of this brilliantly talented lady, you can visit her profile here.

Spectrum

Some days I remember you not at all

And some days it feels like you were never gone

I oscillate, like a pendulum

Between this or that

Wondering which one

Would make my heart a little lighter

In that given moment

I use my weighing scales

To balance out

The weight of my tears

Happy, joyful ones

Against desolate, heart-wrenching cries

They say it’s your loss

That I deserve(d) better

Yet, I feel quite at a loss

Since you’d set my heart aflutter

I sometimes ramble

And at times, I rhyme

But not matter which end of the spectrum

You choose to see

You’ll find that somehow

I’d be forever thine.

Worthy

A fantasy novel

Of a tale forged in fire

Surrounding two golden hoops

One, a ring

Seeking the mightiest power

One, a crown

Searching its rightful heir

Both overshadowed

By two hearts

Having a single, greatest desire

For adventure and fun

And for doing right

Those tiniest of creatures

Won an uneven fight

Dear Bilbo and Frodo

Who slayed dragons and orcs

You give us hope

That all’s not yet lost

Because as said wise ol’ Samwise Gamgee

There’s still some good in this world

And it’s worth fighting for.

Are you loved?

If a writer falls in love with you,

You’re never going to die

He’ll immortalize you in words

From down here to the sky

But what of the agony

Of a non-writer in love?

With no words at his service

To spell out his pain

Much more in number than your heart could ever contain

Would you cry for him then, my dears

A bucketful of tears?