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.

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A dream-not of you

The process of writing poetry is fascinating. I have a considerable amount of stream of consciousness lines to work on and weave into a poem. Nonetheless, sometimes the flow does not come so I leave them aside. This poem came from a tag on instagram for the hashtag #youneverleft.

I love how free flow poetry works. One line pushes another and there you have it. You don’t really know where it will lead you to. In truth, the last lines came first and I built my poem from these pillars.
Just a reminder: no one but yourself can make your dreams come true. But this line just alludes to the fact, there was a wish that was never fulfilled. 👇

A dream-not of you

The rising shine of morning rays
Tickles the eyes, hatching for the day.
The first thought and memory that delineates my mental landscape
Are not yours, they are mine to gratify and celebrate.

Finally, I achieve peace.
No more worrying, “does he love me?!” The focus is, again, internal
The breaths and heartbeats make this poetry’s symphony.
Our story will remain stamped on my cells, the body’s journal,
For the learning does not die, it keeps on coming.
Forever ingrained in the patterns of the unconscious.

Then, I realise,
You have never left, never really withdrew,
That is because you never came
To make my dreams come true.

City Encounters

Who said loneliness is not tangible?
It is the phone that doesn’t ring
Or the finger taps that don’t please.
All those people in your feed,
Shutting their blinds down
On your window screen.

So, I download that app and walk around
Hoping our paths cross around town.
The red light beeps
Like my heart beats that bleeds
It is not a notification,
But my battery that ceases.

Town is buzzing, eyes are crossing
Heads are turning, men are watching.
Ripped jeans and some fake tan whiff.
Going out for a drink?
Ain’t nothing better than this?
How about a bicycle trip?

Pareidolia Love

The rhythm is faster than I would have wished. I just wanted to fit it all into 1min.

Sorry if it is a bit muffled but I am using my phone as a mic.

___________

Pareidolia Love

I am the face on this tree,
The face that all sees.
I carved our bleeding names onto it
And I circled it into a heart.
But I can’t find this tree no more.
I’ve been banned from that park
I am left to wander and look for parts
of memories left, in the forests of my past.

A date into the city burrows,
I saw the tombs where monks got buried.
I went where you saw Irish ship,
We kissed just right beside those trees.

Your dog was frolicking in the soil
The rain was pouring, but it was no toil
My feet got soaked, yet, you dried me
With lots of hugs and fleshy heat.

I look back and reminisce,
This was a real lived romance!
I then, wake up without your kiss
Was this a dream? Or just a trance.

I’ll let my eyes be on this tree
So it shall always look at thee.
Protecting you, when passing b,
Inattentive to my guise.

Edinburgh Haze

Edinburgh Haze

My poetry got wings, it landed in Edinburgh City
It’s cold, breezy and dark, it’s not, yet, even evening.
Where are these men with tartan skirts?
I want to bag their pipes, they want their bagpipes to be heard.
I want to see the Loch Ness erupt.
From swampy waters, undeterred.

So far it seems quite different, from where my spirit lives.
I’m reminded of this partition, when I need to pay any fees
And when listening to quirky accents, as Scottish people speak.

The modern toppled buildings, reminders of my previous life
Old structures elevate the neck, causing shimmers in the eye.
The novelty of all, that can be absorbed
Is captured by these optic nerves.
Be it windows, doors, graffiti.
Nothing here goes unobserved.
A new city tastes like the freshness
Of coffee smell on a morning rise.
As Nan Sheperd once said: “It’s a grand thing to get leave to live”,
So I’ll follow her advice.
I enjoy my holiday in the land of brave hearts.
Hearing kingfishers sing, as the moon makes her depart.

___

Edinburgh is a magical city and many birds sing through out the night!

The end of the year is near! Thank you for everyone that has stopped by, read and specially the ones who commented and keep coming back, from time to time.

I appreciate you dearly. This year was an absolute hell of a year… but it gave me something I will carry with me forever. And forever I will be thankful to have poetry in my life, as self-therapy.

Let’s make 2018 an even greater year.

I hope everyone is happy and safe tonight.

Thanks!

I am grateful!

Luiza aka Divastate Daplaths

_____

As the end of the year comes near
And prostrates on my feet.
In between the Christmas cheers
And the partying on New Year’s Eve,
I reflect on the lessons that came to be.
I slowly rewind and reverse the sight,
It was the most transformative year of my life!

How can one cherry pick, the biggest learning, on a field of cherried-lesson-nuggets?
So I will lay them out side by side,
For those lessons are chained to each other, like partners in crime.
The rule of impermanence: everything changes, nothing stays the same. ‘This the flow of life, so do not get attached to anything.
You will lose, if you try to grip.
Losses and wins, that’s your jeopardy wheel, life spins.
Thus, egocentric human beings, we have no power to impede
This current that sweeps us all in a bleep.

Truth does not exist.
Reality is perception
Do not try to insist
In making your beliefs, the exception.
Once you admit:
Little do you know,
Active listening will permit
Insight into another’s world.

These lessons are branded on my bones
They need reminding, as time moves on
Though blood was spilled,
Please, do forgive.
Before a new year comes to greet,
Accept these premises and you’ll happily live.