Random Thoughts – 040517

We live in irony where the blind could far better perceive hope and has infallible optimism than the ones who have vision yet can not see the beauty of life.

Ironic that the ones who couldn’t see the light have outweighed the others who have seen every inch of the world.

I guess it is the mind that is paralytic not the arms, nor the eyes that is impaired.

 

The one who couldn’t see the light is actually the source, the one who has the ability to glow and lit other’s life with inspiration.

 

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Random Thoughts – 031717

The dreams you piled have crashed like falling legos
in the floor,they lay aspread.
If we were still kids,
we would happily put the legos back.
Build it again, make the foundation a little stronger,
and break them again.
Dang! If only we’re still kids.
No anxieties, stress and pressures going on in our head,
stuff we usually made on our own.
A manufactory of bad thoughts, bed monsters coming into life.

Even When..

At random days,
I would thought about you
and the way you looked at me.

Like you saw a thousand stars
in my eyes,
you can hardly looked away.

You kissed my forehead with
your gentlest lips,
Like the waves do
when they reach the shoreline.

I hope, it was never-ending
too.

That even in the drought of sparks
and darkness of times,
I hope you never change.

Even when the ocean turns
into a vast land of decays
or the starless nights cry
of insipid rain.

Even when the stars you saw in my eyes,
lose its shine
and our body grows old and cold.

I hope it will still be the same.

 

 

Love In Most Unlikely Places

Love In Most Unlikely Places

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I saw it in my mother’s eyes when she scolded me.

I saw it on the airport
As they kissed and bidded goodbye.

I saw it in the hallway,
while he watch her go away.

I saw it in grocery bags,
and never thought cash can
be turn into love.

I saw it how it was spoke in a mother’s lips,
As she animates his son’s funny tricks.

I saw it my Father’s silence
though I know, his heart was ripped.

I saw it when my sister cleans the dishes
Cause my brother is going home late.

To my best friend, I saw it in our coffee dates.
Endless conversation, all laughter, no fakes.

I saw it wiring over the air, linking him to her.
Like that great big sky they share and sleep under.

I saw it as the readers gasp in their horror books.

I saw it on the writer’s paper.

I saw it in every teacher’s hand

filled with chalk smudge.

 

Love.

I saw it in every place

But the World cared so less

these past few days.

 

 

The Slacker’s Way

spaces

 

Here I am full of vigor
Yet time passed in vain again.
Clock’s never tired of circling its arms
But the devil sings lullaby to my ears.

A chant that cajoles my feet
to the enthralling thoughts
of blankets and pillow.
Who am I to resist
when the bed talks to me
through its lines and comfortability.

Another day crush out
in the calendar.
Another slice of regret.
And then I remember a friend asked

“why do we adore wasting time for mediocrity?”

I just smiled and look at her regretfully.

Inspired by the Quote ‘Life sucks and Then it’s Great’

 Maybe life was all about striving and getting tired, a little bit of sprinkles of hope, motivation and wisdom and then faith. Maybe it was all about destroying one’s self and whoever survives — rebuilds to become better version of them.
Maybe life was all about making mistakes and doing it over and over again.. until the lessons were devoured by our minds.
Maybe life was all about being naked, stripping the last part of cloth, the last part of protection because only in nudity of the soul, you become yourself. Maybe that’s where you begin to know the real you.

Maybe life was all about filling one’s cup and then learning when to empty them.

 Maybe life shapes you through certain pressures, right molding, twisting, cuts and bruises, to strip off that last piece of cloth so you’ll be more comfortable, confident…

With your own skin and your own battle scars.

Maybe, sometimes you have to lose yourself once more, forget the old you, to become that person you want yourself to be.

Note to self:

Belated Happy 24th! You weren’t the scientist you dreamed of when you were just a fourth grader but you’re the writer of this blog. That’s whole a lot more cool because powerpuff girls were made by writers not by Professor X. 🙂

Be Awake

 

Our eyes is in waltz
When it’s bound to strike and ignite.
Was it just me, looking for signs
between those replicated sighs.
Is there any chance of crossing the lines
or am I the only one who thinks
that this is OUR time.

Halt the delusional myth
I created on my mind.
There were no cryptic things
it was just my imaginary universe
creating utopia — for you and I.

It seems safe to stay in this world.
But when reality slaps like ice splash in the face.

That’s when I know, it’s morning.

And I said ‘Hey self, be awake’.

 

 

The Man in Sleeve Tattoos

 

Their eyes throw stones of mockery,
Insolent and filthy, that’s what they see.
In every line drawn into his skin,
They believe he doesn’t fit in.

The least they know,
This man wrapped in tattoos,
On bended knees he sings.
Offers every thing to his King.

He screams, he growls,
And praises the Lord in fire.
Hypocrites don’t seem to matter.
GOD knows him way better.

Society thinks he’s a tinted threat
I wish they see what’s underneath.
Coz in heaven we are judge by our deeds,
And not by the tattoo on our sleeves.

 

1 Samuel 16:7

 But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

 

Micro Love Poems

 

One look and I know I’ll be vulnerable to you. So I always leave a space between us –too scared to plunge into the chances.

I knew very well from the start you’ll be my biggest fall, you were a pit fall meant to crack my bones. And you did. I was not meant to recover.

I have so many unwritten poems about you but your name is a subject I can’t dip my fingers into. I kept it safe and locked.

Careful, my honest tongue, should a word ever slip, I know I can’t have it back.

Young girl, stop putting colors over black and white. There was no grays. It was just you seeing the rainbow over his eyes.

And your soft laughter echoed –almost everywhere.

Let him be in every line of my poetry — let it stay there.

 

 

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