Tag Archives: Introspection

Poetry Shenanigans – Journey

Journey

Journeys begin with the smallest of steps,
Infinite, countless tiny steps.
Lives are spent chasing down dreams.
Most settle with the barest of dreams,
On their wishlist.
They believe they’ve reached their destinations.
Shortchanged? Premature? Tunnel vision? Lost?
Guess we’ll never know.
Just because you reach a destination,
Doesn’t mean the journey is complete.
Then there are the wanderers,
Blending with time and space,
Uprooted, displaced,
Thrown off the path,
They set out to carve and mark their place,
Only left turning in circles,
Eyes wide open taking in the sights,
No longer certain if they’ve fallen or risen,
Questioning their purpose, their very existence.
Feeling like the Universe’s exclusive jester,
Entertaining the whims and fancies,
Of a world blinded and deafened,
By the misery that’s torn it asunder.
Where hope is a rare sight, but a cherished one.
And so the wanderer wanders,
Where all the sights and sounds,
That once was home,
Is nothing but a fading mirage,
Slowly and steadily pulling the welcome mat,
Out from under the wanderer’s feet.
How do you find your way?
When the only way you’ve travelled, turns foreign?
Wanderers make the best storytellers.
It’s not their wisdom,
But the strife they hide behind twinkling smiles,
And in long strides, and supposed blasé attitudes,
That makes the tales of their journeys,
Timeless and worth the while.
They belong nowhere and to none,
Yet the world belongs to them.

SJ

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Poetry Shenanigans – Measuring Up

Measuring Up

There was no script,
Preordered, prewritten,
No scene preordained
Tossed, hurled,
Twirled and hurtled,
Towards the chaotic serenity,
Called life.
They said dream,
Like nobody has ever dreamt,
Run from pillar to post,
Spend your youth,
Within the four walls,
Of temples of knowledge,
Among like minded blank
slates,
Like yourself.
They said study harder,
Apply yourself harder,
The books will save you,
The words phrasing equations,
Framing laws of gravity,
Dabbling in grammar and syntax,
Whilst churning out literature and
philosophy.
Then, as you get older,
Your dreams are invalid and
negated,
You’re told to give up chasing
Other worldly visions,
That you once called dreams,
Goals and passions you once coveted.
Told to trade in your foolish ideals,
For the lessons of harsh reality,
Where you’re told,
All the lessons you were once taught,
In your foolish youth,
About kindness and compassion,
Love, peace and intolerance,
Were nothing more than,
Fables, tales, mere fiction.
How else can you justify,
All the hatred? All the destruction?
How can you be the same tongue?
That talks sweet nothings about love
and peace?
And be the tongue that lashes out at
me,
For all my differences?
For all that you dictate with terms and
conditions?
How dare you tell me to live to dream,
And savour freedom,
Only to mock me,
For my ‘naivety,’
Of daring to dream.
How can you root for hope and light,
In a world so unsteady,
Trembling and unstable,
By forces of hate, anger and envy?
How can you ask for better?
When you’d rather only focus,
On what you colour as weakness,
And label as the worst?
How can you hope for a bright future?
For all the children, for tomorrow’s future?
When all you’ve done,
Is quash, squash and destroy,
All forms of inquiry, curiosity,
and discovery,
To the minds and souls that matter most?

SJ

Poetry Shenanigans – Dictated Lies… Dictated Lives

Dictated Lies … Dictated Lives

The only beautiful
Anybody wants to be,
Is the kind they can control,
The kind that comes with
instructions and demos,
You know,
The kind you can fit in a box,
By relinquishing control,
And be told,
That this is for your benefit,
This will give you power
and control over your life,
Without losing your mind.
Convinced by a lie,
Where you’re told,
This is for you,
This is what you need,
To be better, stronger,
Exquisite, visible and striking,
To all those distracted and ignorant
eyes,
That never gave you a moment,
That just passed you by.
Another lie sold,
And you’re constantly told,
This is what makes heads turn,
This is what makes cities burn.
This is what power is.
All these empty promises,
Eat you up whole,
Gone are your dreams,
Gone is your passion,
Gone is that smile,
Once radiant, once hopeful,
In it’s place,
Is something rehearsed,
Something mechanical.
Gone are those things,
That once defined you as driven.
And that place deep within you,
Where there once was a soul,
All that’s left in it’s place,
Is a singed, gaping hole.

SJ

Poetry Shenanigans: Mercy

Mercy

Do you know what it feels like,
On the inside?
When there’s nothing left?
But just a gaping hollow space?
That already existed,
And had a designated space;
Only to be filled up,
With that thing called hope,
Only to be yanked out, ripped out,
Like a band-aid,
Like a recurring nightmare,
With no beginning and no end,
Just a continuum,
That you once learned to overcome.
Do you know what it’s like?
To have dreams put in your head,
That you once thought,
Were out of your reach,
And not in your stead?
Do you know what it is like?
To have a part of you,
A part, buried deep inside,
Brought back to life?
Only to have it slaughtered and
sliced?
And regretting the day you decided,
It should see the light?
I guess you never will,
I guess you never can,
When it was so easy to give up
and let go,
While all you had to do,
Was stay and hold a hand,
And try and understand.

SJ

Fears, Tears & Belief

 

Fears, Tears & Belief

Some days I sit and wonder,
Is everything in this world redundant?
Every mistake, every lesson,
The result of many an epic blunder?
Where what I’ve been seeking,
Really isn’t what they promised
taught or preached,
Back in school,
And drilled into our brains everyday,
That hard work pays.
They promised us freedom and
security,
Based on chapters in books.
The promised us permanence,
Based on their skewed perception
of reality.
Rewarding those willing to be
subservient,
Willing to keep their head down
And unquestionably follow rules;
Versus those who choose to stand tall,
And question the relevance of it all.
Who end up being called heroes and
visionaries,
Posthumously…once they fall.
Until then,
Their actions and words,
Decried and condemned.
Their virtues, their character
Sullied, defiled and stained.
And once nothing remains of them,
Where words and pictures fail,
Stories of their focus and restraint,
Become legends and myths to enthrall us.
Their resilience and resistance,
Stories of inspiration, to drive us.
Legends they call them in the future,
But, mere criminals in the present.
So, who do we blame?
When we as a civilization fail and fall?
When all we ever do,
Is look for ways to tear each other apart,
Instead of holding each other,
And standing united, together.

SJ

The Naked Truth

Well it’s Terrific Thursday and I have more Thots to share. You find inspiration in the oddest places sometimes…but then again, I’ll take any form of inspiration I get. By The All Spark! It’s one thing to procrastinate, but it’s a whole other cuppa tea when Inspiration flies out the door without letting you know.

Well as always, let me know what you think, if you have any comments or thots to share hit up the empty space after this post and feel free to express yourself!

The Naked Truth

Would you drift away?
Or, would you stay?
If I told you
All my fears,
And, the reasons
Behind countless,
Unstoppable tears?
Would you drift away?
Or, would you stay?
With every wall of mine
you break down,
With every piece of my
armor,
You disintegrate,
Until you finally uncover,
The version of me,
That is the truest version
of myself.
Would it terrify you?
Would it send you scurrying?
Or would it make no
difference?
Would you still see me the
same way?
As the one that stole your heart?
And not the one you left
behind,
Or, the one,
Who drifted away?
Would your eyes still light up?
Like a thousand stars?
When you finally see me,
Bare…in all my naked glory,
With no more masks to wear?
Or would they turn stone cold?
Would you stay?
If I told you all the ways I am
broken?
Trying to put all the broken
pieces together
To make a whole?
Or would you leave?
In search of better days,
In hopes of finding some
respite,
From the brutalities of life,
That made me who I am,
And made you,
Plain and simply…just you.

World Poetry Day – The Hero Within

In honour of World Poetry Day, here’s a little something I just had to say. Thankfully I was able to get this done before the end of the day, not that I mind anyway, since pretty much every other day feels and seems like Poetry day :).

The Hero Within

People like being Messiahs,
They love saviors,
They love believers,
They adore heroes,
They find purpose to strive
towards,
Fixing all that isn’t theirs.
They like having answers,
They think are key,
To solving all those things,
That seems to leave you and me
in a fix.
They like being the ones,
To constantly shove your failures
In your face;
The constant reminders,
Of your losses and failing grace…
Everyone wants someone to save,
Everyone wants to be the one
That takes your world by storm;
To be all that
They wish they could have been.
Projection becomes a fixation,
Observation, introspection and reflection,
Nothing but mere distractions,
Perfection a new obsession.
So here is the bitterest of truths,
Everyone wants a hero,
Everyone wants to be saved,
From walking off the edge of the
ledge,
Of that cliff they call fear.
They go looking in crevices and
cracks,
For legends and inspiration,
When the only hero they ever
needed,
Is the reflection,
They saw day in and day out
in the mirror.
Cracked, broken,
At times beyond repair,
At other times,
Restructured, replaced, reorganized,
But ever faithful,
And never leaving their side.
The one they glossed over,
Snarled at, growled at,
But never paid attention to.

Distilled

Distilled

Somewhere in a place,
One beyond the reach of time
and space.
Where the semantics,
And symmetrics of human dynamics
Fade into oblivion.
Where our actions,
Aren’t ruled and governed,
By desperation and survival
And borderline paranoia and suspicion.
Where kindness, loyalty and love,
Aren’t viewed as a means to an end;
Where you and I aren’t coiled, tensed
and poised,
Waiting, watching and ever ready,
For our facades to fall apart and crumble.
Facades you and I carry,
Like extra baggage,
Unclaimed, unwanted,
Yet a necessity,
Just to keep our heads afloat,
In this turbulent and unpredictable
Roller coaster ride called life.
One day…some day,
Shall we be liberated,
By the chains,
That make us question
The true nature of our humanity.
Where love, kindness and care,
Don’t raise suspicions.
Where belief, hope and dreams,
Live and breathe,
Unquestioned, Unfettered and Unchallenged.

Lost

This short shot was inspired by a few scenarios and settings that have wormed their way through over the past few weeks, days and hours. The title however, was primarily inspired by Coldplay’s song ‘Lost!’ from the album Viva La Vida…a bloody brilliant song might I add. Of course, that is my opinion about most of Coldplay’s songs anyway. None the less, I don’t want to make this a super long intro message, but just wanted to say that I own everything else except the quote and the actual song. Please feel free to express yourselves in the ‘Comments’ section below and thanks for tuning in. Cheers!

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Begin Transmission….

Lost

‘Alcohol is the anesthesia by which we endure the operation of life.’ – George Bernard Shaw

We are who we claim we aren’t, stake our reputations down on who we think we are, but sometimes we never quite fit in that outfit we built for ourselves. Nobody likes seeing weak armour, it’s a sign of frailty, of weakness, a sign of being dented easily and of being well below retail price, almost worthy of a clearance sale with no chance of a refund or exchange. However, the only people, who ever know our true worth are the ones who own us and genuinely realize our value, and worth, and, cherish every moment spent with us. Then of course, there is that set of people who undervalue us, hoist us like show pieces for a purpose and chuck us out, if not hand us down…with both futures being rather uncertain, bleak and at times quite unforgiving.

Here’s another brilliant factoid, who knew being so completely inebriated was the key to gaining insight and wisdom? It is common knowledge, and proven by far too many, that being drunk frees your mind of it’s inhibitions, along with other parts of your body and being. However, being so absolutely inebriated frees your soul as well, or so is the moral of the lesson being imparted here.

We race ahead in life trying to get to the next level, the next stage, because it looks so much more appealing, and so much better than what we have in the here and the now. We don’t enjoy our childhood while we can, because we’re all about embracing the next phase of life so as to beat the rules and regulations laid down upon us, and to be rebels within boundaries. Ultimately, all we really achieve are surpassing more rules, more regulations and trying to beat the level before our time’s up in said level. We either end up being the Honor Roll students or the losers in the back row who are judged and presumed to not really have a future, because come on how often do people think screw-ups can ever amount to anything right? The ones in the middle are of no importance really, because they stand neither here nor there in the strength, grit and integrity departments, they’re just middle-men and women that you presumably pass by in life. Who comes up with these analogies really? But, in all that time racing ahead and doing all sorts of fun, competitive things in life, we forget who we are doing any of this for and basically the purpose behind it all. Somewhere along the way, the lines blur between gaining, sustaining and achieving legacies. In the end, despite the race we’re running, we all check out at the same line, probably not at the same time, but the fate that meets us in the end is ultimately the same.

Well here’s the cherry on the cake, or the chaser to my shot…whilst gaining insight on knowledge that was once naught I hear the bartender calling out the last round for the night…the final call. This is probably the last round of clarity that is headed my way with my best mates Jack, Johnny and good ol’ Captain Morgan, before another day of nonsense and mundane routines takes over yet again. The questions of why and how, hounding every fiber of rational, moral and logical thought processes accompanied by a surly hangover.

You would think the finer aspects of introspection and reflection would come over some intense brooding while sitting on a couch in a corner somewhere in the dark, where the only source of light is either the dancing flames of a drying fire from the fireplace, or the rather radiant monitor of your laptop. You would think sobriety cleared up all your clouded thought processes, especially after being served up with a breakup, being laid off from your dream job, which obviously didn’t see dreams as grand as yours, and basically being kicked in the shins and teeth, by life every which way. All that brooding, all it ever does is lead to more thoughts, more thinking, more wormholes and rabbit holes but never any solutions, never any light at the end of the tunnel.

Well my time here is up, the last round is done; the last of everything appears like the setting sun. Time to hitch a ride in that yellow carriage…back to my fortress, back to supposed ‘solace.’ But prior to that, I think I have a confession if not an announcement to make….Ladies and gents I think I just may have found my new addiction, and my finest solution to that confusing, treacherous, flummoxing predicament if not paradox called life. Hear this, my ABSOLUT promise, for shall I return when happy hour returns, to bottles flowing, and the liquid elixir that brings life to frigid veins, shattered hearts and confounded minds. Au revoir until then, friends, foes and all of those with way too many woes.

End Transmission….

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