You stay within the lines
Because the lines work for you.
They build stairs, lift you up,
Form thrones and crowns,
And loudspeakers and pathways,
Because you are the ideal
Two dimentional stick figure
Of this boxed up world.

And what about those who
Do not fit into any frame?
The slush of colours
Floating without form?
The dots at the edges
That tip-toe beyond borders,
Finding the means to exist
Solely when the stringent lines
Cannot reach them?

I am the latter,
Melting into shadows,
Slipping past backgrounds,
Skipping over lines that
Never built kingdoms for me.
No, instead, I am an anomaly,
That, if spotted, would be crushed,
If heard, would be shushed,
For I speak of a reality
Beyond what the lines
Want you to see.

-

I would like to begin again
From the first page
When life was blank
And there was a whole
Empty book to fill with lores
And endless epics galore,
Yet somehow, I already find
Myself a good way through.
I do not know how many
Pages this book holds.
I do not wish to know.
When it finally comes to a close,
I want every reader to know
That I have lived my life
To every shade, tint, and tone,
I have traversed the arch
Of a glittering rainbow,
I have touched the clouds
And triggered the rains,
I have basked in sunshine
And charted the stars,
I have given as much love
As my heart could contain,
I have tried to show kindness
Even through ferocious pain,
I have given and given and
accepted what the world gave,
And as the final page turns
I welcome nothingness once again.

-

The week dwindles
Into a lavender evening,
I sigh watching the sun
Melt into the distant horizon
In a spark of crimson,
Tugging the lights away
Past the jagged treetops
Now sparkling with stars
Gracing the skies above me
And the streets around me...

Somehow, in this setting,
My past sorrows fade away,
And future fears halt, forgetting
To trouble my frantic heart
Which is now lost impossibly
Within this curious crossroad
Between day and night,
Hypnotised by the transitions
In time and space and what's real...

For once, this reality seems nice.

-

Isn't there any hope?
My mind cries at thoughts
Of war, cruelty and loss,
My system rejects this
Brutal inhuman framework
That steps on fragile hearts
And shatters every dream.
It cannot be how life
Was meant to be lived—
Harm or be harmed,
Cutthroat manners praised,
Gentle natures mocked—
No, I cannot accept it
And sit in meek obediece
To the rule of horrors.

There must be more
To truth than these scars.

-

Could Be Better...

This job
This home
This society
This vehicle
This degree
This body
This life...

Everything could be better.

Have you ever wondered
Why it is not?

If you had everything,
What would you strive for?

If there was no night,
Would you appreciate the stars?

If the grass was green here,
Would you dare leap to the other side?

Yes, things are rough,
It is not fair and not right,
But times are made to be tough
So that you can seek the light.

That in itself
Is the beauty of life.

-

Seasons shift,
Suns and moons
Chase each other
Tirelessly across skies,
Comets flash by,
Clouds drift lazily,
Storms pass through,
Droughts huff past,
People scatter,
Beasts lumber on,
Birds migrate away,
Trees blossom and shed,
Rivers sliver off
Toward distant oceans...

And here I sit,
Day in and day out,
Life racing past me,
Eyes glued to a screen,
Yearning for notes in green,
Typing till fingers ache,
Until my thoughts empty
Out into words on sheets,
And there's nothing left
Of who I used to be...

Do I dare stop?
For a moment, look away?
Bundle up this inner chaos?
Must I seize the day?

-

You see a mirror
And turn away
From an unwanted view
Of scars and wounds,
Of white hairs and wrinkles,
Of bones and fats,
Of a body that may never
Reach your epitome of perfection.

I observe this phenomenon
And listen for your heartbeats,
Observing the rise and fall of your chest,
The delicate trace of lines
All across inches of your skin–
Historic roadmaps of your life,
The thoughts whirling in your brain–
Your beliefs and perceptions,
And the unerasable impact of you
And your existence marking milestones
And memories within me...

Do you not see
The spectacularity of your being?

-

I found a tree digging
Up dirt off the ground.
I asked if she was gardening
Or searching for treasure.

She said, "A bit of both, really,
I am trying to find my roots,
For if I know where I began,
I'll also know how far I can grow."

So, I picked up the shovel and helped
Her dig deeper, For I wished to
Witness her leaves caress the clouds–
A treasure purer than any gold.

-

Here's a query that
Sets my heart racing,
Every time our eyes meet
Those depths I keep chasing,
Getting lost through dimensions
Of all the tales they hold,
Yearning for some attention,
Just waiting to be told.
Every detail I devour,
From the folds of your gaze,
Like the petals of a flower
Or the paths of a maze,
The more I wander
The more I am lost
With hope I ponder
What it would cost
To reach your heart,
And when I finally do
Tread through your art
And solve all the clues
I'll ask one thing of you:

Would you like to be my muse?

-

Reshaping your mind
Is never an easy process.

Like a rocky mound of clay,
You must first learn to soften it
With love, gentle pressure, and time,
And allow change to occur as you
Welcome completely alien
And uncomfortable perspectives.

When ready, take small chunks
And try out different ideas.

It won't be perfect, and you'll
Start over and over again,
Abandoning and beginning to
Soften hard-set beliefs anew,
While progress, growing visible,
Will yearn to keep moving with you.

Over time, with consistent practice
And a great amount of care,
You'll shape up miraculous thoughts
And wonder at the hard mound
Of stone that you used to be...

Now isn't that notion
Rather lovely?

-