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| Left my shoes on the ground |
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| Left my mark later on |
Saturday 19 September 2015
A Land under the Glittering Sea
A land under the glittering sea
oh, there is where I'd like to be
Floating at a slower pace
with cool, dark waters caressing my face
Don't follow me there, I beg,
I want to escape your sound
No talking, no more fuss, let me leave
You won't find me there,
in the Land under the Sea
(14-09-15)
Friday 11 September 2015
Maybe every day
Maybe every day changes us,
moulds us so thoroughly,
in preparation for what comes next,
After this life.
I guess I will know in time.
I believe though, that every day
Should still be enjoyed,
Still seen as an opportunity,
a Chance to thoroughly live This life.
(21-07-2015)
moulds us so thoroughly,
in preparation for what comes next,
After this life.
I guess I will know in time.
I believe though, that every day
Should still be enjoyed,
Still seen as an opportunity,
a Chance to thoroughly live This life.
(21-07-2015)
OBLIVION
I know in theory how it works
We die and are gone
The memory lives only a short while
You can raise my grave stone,
but it will crumble with time
You can read my writings,
but they will get lost with time
You can save me,
but never forever
Oblivion is inevitable
I want to be remembered
I wish to leave a mark
Oblivion is escapable
The energy of my life
will flow through this earth
The earth I walked upon
My energy will give new life
and continue for aeons
And so, I shall live forever,
escaping oblivion
(19-07-2015)
We die and are gone
The memory lives only a short while
You can raise my grave stone,
but it will crumble with time
You can read my writings,
but they will get lost with time
You can save me,
but never forever
Oblivion is inevitable
I want to be remembered
I wish to leave a mark
Oblivion is escapable
The energy of my life
will flow through this earth
The earth I walked upon
My energy will give new life
and continue for aeons
And so, I shall live forever,
escaping oblivion
(19-07-2015)
The Shabti
I am a Shabti,
handmade by me,
commissioned by others.
I formed this shell
from their expectations,
their opinions thrust upon me.
I lost my voice, my flesh, my blood,
wandering aimlessly within myself.
Myself? No,
this mud shell is but a prison.
I am no Shabti,
not made from weakened clay,
I shall recall myself,
emerge from the Duat.
I am stronger, braver, bigger,
crushing this Shabti,
this image caging me in.
I adhere no expectations,
but only my own anew.
Finding my voice, my Ba and Rem,
new courage to break this shell.
(9-11-07-2015)
handmade by me,
commissioned by others.
I formed this shell
from their expectations,
their opinions thrust upon me.
I lost my voice, my flesh, my blood,
wandering aimlessly within myself.
Myself? No,
this mud shell is but a prison.
I am no Shabti,
not made from weakened clay,
I shall recall myself,
emerge from the Duat.
I am stronger, braver, bigger,
crushing this Shabti,
this image caging me in.
I adhere no expectations,
but only my own anew.
Finding my voice, my Ba and Rem,
new courage to break this shell.
(9-11-07-2015)
The Angry Elf
Fluttering wings in the soft summer air
Swirling dress in white
Glaring eyes, knotted hands
Annoying little creature flying around
Ignorant people never see
the tiny ones right in front of them
His eyes shooting daggers,
his sharp teeth sinking into human flesh
"Ugh", they complain,
"Another mosquito."
(08-07-2015)
Unfinished poem
For the first time in so long
I breathe freely now
The sweet release of letting go
moving forward without regret
(23-03-2015)
I breathe freely now
The sweet release of letting go
moving forward without regret
(23-03-2015)
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