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This is why I never get books on a loan! hahaha

At first, I nearly cried when I saw what had happened. Then, I thought:

Rule of impermanence. Everything changes…do not get attached.

I have been working on this, since life has been constantly showing me, life does not go according to plan, but it works out, eventually. All falls into place.

So, I learned something with that.

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Eulogic

What shall be your eulogy hymn? Work backwards. Find out how you wish to have lived and set this dream in motion!
Do not follow the ordinary tracks… it does not lead to the treasure at the end, not if you walk on concrete. Walk on rainbow, instead.

__

On the chalkboard of life
What do you want to inscribe?
Tomb-ble down
Merry it’round
Live how you want it to be.

Re-member-ed,
Once you exit the land of the living.
What is this anthem,
That you will sing,
Before embarking
On an everlasting sleep?

The Purging

Release. I want to release
Remove this out of existence
Take it out of my system,
Wipe off this slickest grease.

This extracting requires exerting.
A push that comes to shove,
Such weight falls on from above,
Resulting in a chance for spurting.

So, the snowball grows until it rows.
Gravity is the invisible hand that nudges
Descending until it no longer can be enclosed.
It splashes around your globe, leaving traces of sludge.

The secret is out, no longer your curse.
A sense of lightness dominates the frame,
Once used as a road for pain to transverse.
Now, this path, is ready to be reclaimed.

The Branding Act

Your words, rejection spoke
My heart was covered in tar.
You inked it in my cells,
An inner river of blotted scars.

The moment comes, once more
Where I choose what to impart.
I call love from above
To skin into me, whole.
Create me a symbol with a kohl.
Incorporated into a life goal.

Those black latex gloves hold my trunk
The alchemist turns black charcoal gunk.
Into subliminal material etched on flesh
Beliefs and meanings, forever enmeshed.

Your life history gets in your body, written.
New voluntary scabs mend old cuts once riven.
The art of healing is comprised in this ritual.
Engraving your soul is a process most blissful!

Check out my Blog Post for LovePain&Poetry.

Hi Guys,

I hope that you are all well and that poetry has been ruling your life, as it does mine…with pleasure!

I just wanted to express my appreciation to the Love, Pain&Poetry Crew! I wrote a blog post for their esteemed page, on the “Healing Powers of Poetry”. It basically explains why I write poetry, what prompted this passion and more.

Do check their website also, it contains blog posts from other contributors, poetry, poetry courses – which I am enrolling on, soon and it seeks to connect with other writers and poets, so as to make this a community of supporters and word lovers, through lessons in suffering. I would appreciate if you did.

My blog post:

https://www.lovepainandpoetry.com/write-for-life/2018/1/20/the-healing-powers-of-poetry

Love, Pain& Poetry can be found at:

https://www.lovepainandpoetry.com

https://facebook.com/LovePainPoetry/

https://www.instagram.com/lovepainpoetry/

Twitter: @lovepainpoetry

Here is a sneak peek of the post:

A Sister to You

 It’s incredible how losses propel poetry! Loss inspires and gives you a reason to write. At the end, it is not a complete loss, for you have just created something. Alchemy, thus, happens.

____

Yes…you are gone. I need no remembering. I hear this silent gong No greetings in the morning. I wonder what tragedies you battle alone, The worries corrupting your soul, Consuming time, as questions circle, Resuming us to an inaudible counsel.

I wonder, why can I not take them down?! Like an older sister to a younger brother, Someone red nosed your clown. I would trample on their faces, like on ground!

If only I knew, this bane is part of your twisted doom. Ironically, their tomb will lay beside you. Though many mountains I have moved, Against self-reproof, There is nothing that I can do. You cannot seem to slice, the thorns out of your spine. You must learn to live with bruise.

In your exclusive grieving cocoon I cannot embrace your bag of bones. So I cast a rune, to make you immune. While dreaming we fly, out in the infinite sky, On clouds of assexual love, reaching new highs, Only me and you! Eclipsing the moon…as our friendship balloons.

A DSM LOVE

I always knew You were not right in the head

.That is not how normal people act

None-the-less, I longed for your caress

I could understand

Your intricacies.

Accusations,
Limited views,
And miscalculations.
But you know me,
A maso-sadist
Who plays with fire to get burned.
I cherish the lunacy that resides in All of us.
Let’s “namaste” wild gods, thus:
My inner psycho master greets

The schizo deity inside of ye

We all have a part that is out of wack and unbalanced and rather than repressing and ignore it, I am trying to treasure it and acknowledging.

People with mental illnesses deserve to have relationships. For that they need understanding compassion from others.
I am not trying to make light of those conditions, specifically mentioned or any mental health issue. But this is me, acknowledging that we have a propensity to get there, to the same place some are at. By recognising it in myself, I recognise it in others and that puts me in a position of compassion, rather than judgement.