We take our drinks Cold,
Icy and chilled,
So the Stench—
of stale tonics,
of each other’s true repulsive
Scents and Intents,
of our unfavorable Circumstances,
and of the futility
of it all
Can thoroughly
Escape our paralyzed
Senses.
“If I can stop one heart from breaking”
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one Life the Aching,
Or cool one in Pain,
Or help one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again,
I shall not live in Vain.
—Emily Dickinson.
.
the best convictions are those that seek to benefit the self the least—they also the ones that shine the strongest in life’s most extraordinary circumstances.
Of something
Fresh and rare—
Eager like the
Playful
Spring Breeze,
Blowing
Your loose
Lettuce
up,
Up,
and awaaayy—
An enigmatic
Encounter,
So New
and
Ancient
Once again.
“What is better, to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?”
—Paarthurnax.
I fell
In Love
With a fine,
Young Lady
From the Other
Side
Of town—
She North
And I South—
Two neighborhoods, separate lives,
And both having
Miraculously crossed,
Would never
Once
Be
The same.
” …there was a language in the world that everyone understood…It was the language of enthusiasm, of things accomplished with love and purpose, and as part of a search for something believed in and desired.”
—Paulo Coelho.
Forget me not
For offering always
this Black, Tainted—
but Genuine—
and still Naive
Heart.
“…he realized that he had to choose between thinking of himself as the poor victim of a thief, or as an adventurer in quest of his treasure.
‘I am an adventurer, looking for treasure,’ he said to himself.”
—The Alchemist.
Scars that won’t heal
Pain that cannot absolve
Now
What are you
But an empty crest of
Everything you once were?
Once immaculate, un-clever,
Never mutilated.
Seeking in despair
For sentience
From without—
Blinding lines of lyrics
Taking all your minutes, and
Countless, heart-wrenching
Silver-screen Plots,
Stealing away
All the hours—
Do you remember,
Or do you
Simply fall down low,
Empty
Once again,
When the Show’s over—
Still searching
Voraciously, tears lost—
No hindsights,
For the next wave
Of manufactured emotions?
“Only by taking yearning to its mortal limit can youth be wholly known.”
—R.H.
Particular Moments 