Standing before the Notre-Dame,
Marveling at its resurrection,
Risen again, it stands anew, with disjointed imperfection.
The old and new bond at the cracks,
Befitting, one could say,
Its old resident – the hunchback.
I guess it is perception and belief
That can make joy of grief—
From faded façades to restored reliefs,
To the roof tiles above and ceilings beneath.
I marveled at this fallen cathedral,
Once again standing tall,
Though I wish I hadn’t noticed one thing:
The solitary shadow gazing back from the walls.
Tag: reflection
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Esmeralda lost
-
My shadow
I abandoned you again didn’t I?
I promised you’d be seen and heard
That we would do this together
My ride or die that cannot be cured
That even the very notion is absurd
You were screaming in pain and I wouldn’t meet your eye
Scoffed when you cried, said you deserved it for all the lies and failures
I sounded like everyone else, as if I was one of them
I denied you a voice
Judged your choice to be your virtue
I really wanted to hurt you
Even wished that you would die
To be gone for good
To be lost to oblivion
Oblivious to the obvious paradox once again
That, you are me
I was done with you as my shadow
As if you were something to uncouple
Well, you burst that bubble didn’t you?
Thought I could drown out your pleading
Thought I could think you into a corner
You warned me once before but I never learned
When I tried to sever you, I bled too
Tried to shed myself of your weight from my shoulders
Denied you headspace
Tried to evict your every evocation and send you on a permanent vacation
You had to be heard though
So you beat your drum in my chest
Stole away my rest, so I could feel what you feel
The harder I pushed, the tighter you gripped my heart
Our heart
And that was just the start
You had nowhere else to go
You had no other choice, I know
I’m so sorry
You needed me and I kept kicking
Until you eventually kicked back
Until I became the shadow
And saw everything you saw
Until I cried for help, as if I was wronged
You had to be explicit for me to accept,
That I too was complicit
You waited patiently for me to sit with you, knowing I had to fall to find you
I’m so sorry
It’s so damp and cold down here
How do you even breathe?
The echoes are deafening
Gosh, I’m so sorry
I, I don’t think I’m ready to hug you yet
I still need time
But I’m willing to sit with you and plan our escape one day..
Together?
-
Mirror selfie
Gosh, it feels so selfish,
All this stuff about oneself is like standing in a gallery full of selfies, saying, “Oh wow, look it’s me!”
Smile and say cheese, oh please!
How much more juice will you squeeze, hasn’t this cow been milked dry?
Stop asking why, instead, ask what’s next?
Deflect from this worn subject, embark on a new project.
Let’s be objective, and a little less reflective.
How will we gain a new perspective if our gaze is in the mirror?
We’ve polished it enough, but it’s not getting any clearer.
This is all there is, but this is really enough.
It isn’t that rough
It’s just a bit uncomfortable,
Feels tough moving forward, but it’s your reflection that’s in the way.
There are more dimensions to you than this mirror could ever convey.
It would be dismayed at how much it cannot know, thus cannot show you.
It’s always in the past.
That reflection always arrives last.
So, come let’s cast the mirror to one side and see the unknown.
You already know you.
You have indulged enough in self-loathing and self-soothing,
Giving your ego a massage, and then a bruising.
It’s a suffering awash in privilege,
The root of it all was valid, but these flowers are getting excessive.
Imagine what could be imagined!
Isn’t that more impressive?
Help right some new wrongs.
Stop writing personal possessives.
It’s obsessive, bordering on oppressive.
Crawl out of the recesses of your mind.
It’s time to draw a line in your grey matter.
Honestly assess if what you say matters.
Come on now…
You’re corroborating reveries
These fragments of correlating energies
They’re just memories of memories.
I’m sure you already know,
I’m fragile, and the cracks are beginning to show.
I think… I think it is time you let me go.
Kind regards,
your ego
-
Laundry day
Friends tell me, Everything happens for a reason.
A hollow platitude dismissing discourse; disarming of any control.
Stoics tell me, It doesn’t matter, it’s all out of your control.’
Forget the heroics and the storytelling.
Focus on your actions and choices alone.
My therapist tells me, Your actions are an inevitable result of everything that came before.
Learn to forgive and accept what is.
There is no hope for control here either.
Go with the flow, and they will say, I don’t think so!
Don’t let life happen to you, take control!
Seize the day, get the universe to work for you!
The friggin’ universe can work for me??
Yet I have no control over my actions, thoughts, or beliefs?
What to make of these mixed messages?
I guess no-one really knows.
I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway.
Come on universe, we’ve got some laundry to do…
-
Librarian’s lament
The mind should be an archive.
It should be a gallery, a library even.
It should be allowed to display,
Allowed to be discovered,
To be lost and forgotten,
And then be recalled once more.
But it seems the infrastructure is publicly funded—
How else could one explain the disrepair?
The corners cut, and misplaced items;
A theatre is required,
Yet all we have is a projector stuck on loop.
The resolution resoundingly underwhelming,
Footage stuck on repeat, and the controls broken.
So many unreturned items, yet no fines collected;
Unaccounted for, as the ledger is lost.
Dim lamps barely illuminate constellations of dust
As they settle like the first snow atop the shelves.
This was once a collage of colors,
In bloom, like sun-flecked flora through the mind’s shade.
Every artifact a vivid rendition of a lived reality—
The cleaner has been fired, it would seem.
Only a lonely librarian remains,
Armed with a broom and an unwavering resolve,
For he remembers the opening day,
The newborn baby smell of it all.
Oh, how efficient he was—
Everything had its place, and it was placed not a moment too soon.
Every thought, every word, every creative endeavor—
Embellishments had no place here.
The beauty of what is, was all;
A system of serene simplicity.
Yet, as the great library grew, the budget did not.
Entropy eventually enveloped these annals of time.
What is, was lost to what was, what will be, what could be, and perhaps what should be.
A chaotic cacophony usurped the simple melodies that once serenaded the corridors.
And then there was silence,
Aside from the whirring of the projector.
Now, with leaden steps, our librarian returns to his desk,
In his hand, a crinkled sheet that reads:
‘Help wanted, enquire inside.’
If only he could remember where he put the keys—
They’re in here somewhere…
-
The big man
People give space when you look like me
I’m pretty big and broad you see
I saunter at a leisurely pace
Lumbering like a gorilla on a Sunday stroll
You wouldn’t ask me the time or to take a picture
Now that’s not to say I look mean
I’m harmless but I guess you see the potential
Calculate the risk and give me a wider berth
The armour I’ve built is doing its job I guess
A little too well
I designed it to shield myself and those I love
A human shield you could say
So impenetrable it seems that even kindness can’t get in
You won’t see me and offer a word of comfort
Or an offer to join you
At most a smile to pacify the big man sitting alone
In hopes he smiles back and leaves you alone
I see you shifting anxiously so I bury myself in my phone
Catching my big man’s reflection
Remembering what you see
For I am invisible
But not the big man
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Senses
If I were to love with just my senses, then I’d forget you at goodbye
Senses are mere vessels to manifest you into this world
Goodbyes have no place here
-
Long road
Nothing changed yet everything did
As I took each turn in the road
Every last time was always on time
As I took each turn on the road
Your names reclaimed, only memories remained
As I took each turn in the road
Never again was never the end
Another friend fell behind at the bend
To walk alone
Are we the condemned?
I still look for you at the turn in the road..
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The Cave
Love yourself
Love myself?
Love the shadows on the wall?
What’s casting them?
Is it me?
My self?
My ego?
Is it everything?
Is loving myself turning around?
I wish I knew how to turn this thing around
I have to admit, I don’t love this
The shadows are too black and white
I want to feel the heat of the fire on my face
Look beyond the flames and see
See Everything
See it for what it really is
Unchained and unfettered
Maybe, see what’s worth loving?
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Snakes and platters
Spinning plates in the dark isn’t easy
Down here with the snakes and crawling things
Do I spin or find the floor?
Could someone lend an ear?
All I hear is hissing
Listen for me please?
Those plates won’t spin themselves
Which one will fall?
Which one is out of control?
In the dark there’s more questions than answers
Endlessly spinning
Waltzing in this vortex of plates and snakes
I’m getting dizzy
But I can’t find the floor
And those plates won’t spin themselves
I said that already
But I can’t find the floor
And those plates won’t spin themselves..
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My frienemy
I want to say I’m sorry
I never thought how hard it must be
All you do is worry
Worry about me
Your existence could seem a curse
Not everyone’s cup of tea
But you did not choose this life
The life of anxiety
You wake up and you’re worried
As you scurry to knock on my door
I rarely choose to listen
Seriously though, what for?
All you do is plan
Or dig up shit I regret
When all I really want to do
Is close my eyes and forget
Forget about tomorrow
Or the sorrows of yesterday
Some heat I’d like to borrow
Yet you have none to my dismay
But today I had a thought about you
Oh devil upon my shoulder
Perhaps you don’t always hold me back
Perhaps you could make me bolder?
I don’t know when I decided
Decided to close the door
As if by pushing you aside
I would be able to rest assured
In times of crisis you’ve been there
When I felt lost you found me
When my mind is racing with fear
You knew what to do to ground me
We’d sit together and make a plan
Using the past for a new tomorrow
Remembering all the cracks in the road
Never painting over the sorrow
You’ve had my back from the day I was born
Quietly by my side
Lately though you’ve been feeling low
And I did nothing as you sat and cried
Your worries grew worse
As did your regrets
And all I did was deny you
I slammed the door
To block out your voice
All that did was terrify you
I never stopped to ask you why
Why do you feel this way?
Where those worries came from
Or why they won’t go away
You wanted to talk
I wanted to run
Foolishly I tried to hide
When all along
I was all sorts of wrong
Not seeing it’s in me you reside
You are my friend
You are not my enemy
Sometimes you get worked up
But against me…you will never be
We’ve seen some shit
And you remember it
Even if I refuse
But if I leave you to it again
Again we both will lose
So hold me to this
That I will listen, when you need an ear
We’ll figure it out
Try to to clear up the doubts
In an embrace we’ll face the fears
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The lineup
Standing in the dusty light waiting
Confused
Debating the purpose of the circus to come
‘Bring them in’ a gravelly voice strains
An insane clown posse shuffles through the door
Oh my god, it can’t be
Erm, what’s the deal officer?
What is the meaning of all this?
These faces
Intimately known
Infinitely bound
One by one, the visages raise their gazes
Mirages of stories told and left unsaid
Shackled in time
Wracking my mind, I recall them one by one
The gravelly voice rises once more
Well?!
Who was the villain?
Who broke the camel’s back?
I was dumbfounded
‘Erm, officer what do I make of this parade?
Seriously, what is this charade all about?’
Without stuttering he repeats the question
Who is the villain?
Now, I feel them
Eyes on me
All eyes on me
Questioning gazes
Searching gazes that cannot find me
Amused, bemused, indifferent even
I can’t bring myself to meet them
Eyes, I’d once greeted with an embrace
Faces, I thought once mine
I turn away
Breathing deep, the gravity of it all
Perturbed, by the brevity of this farcical situation
I honour their gazes
One by one
I meet their eyes with no challenge and no pain
‘Officer‘
Turning to the gravelly voice I confess,
‘This mess has no villain nor victim
I say, convict them
They say, convict him
Villains to me
Or I to them
Officer this dualism does not suffice
So let’s not sacrifice a soul for a soul
A what for a why
An eye for an eye
Intentions lost, in unintentional damage
Imaginary friends, faded into memory
Let them go officer
A one way mirror, is not befitting of a glass house’
-
Losing myself
I’m not me
Was I ever?
Me has been a boy
A man
A thousand faces
Never changing
Never the same
You know me
He knows me
She knows me
They all know faces
Faces in spaces and time
Was it me?
When was me?
The boy in the space jam pyjamas?
The romantic?
The villain?
Hurt or hurting?
Comparing or contrasting?
I don’t know me
The idea of me
As if I am
I wonder what I would ask
If I were to be acquainted with I
Would I believe in I
Or you
All of you I’ve known
Thought to be true
Avatars
Energies
Faces in spaces and time
-
The Firefly
I’m not angry with you anymore
I’m at a loss and disappointed
I know you don’t care
Most likely you don’t even know
I mean, I’m barely a speck of dust you’ve traversed through
What do you know of I?
If we stood eye to eye, would you even see me?
Of all the fireflies crowding your skies
How often do you notice the ones whose lights go out?
All you can see are the joyful
Illuminating your night-scape
Those without a torch are lost
Invisible to you
Though as I said
You probably never saw us
I’ve no-one to turn to in complaint
Nor would I want to dim their lights by getting too close
The torch I carry is no longer a beacon
But a relic
It’s long lost its heat
Just a crisp, oiled rag, sodden and defused
How unfortunate and bemusing
I suppose the only way to relight my torch is to keep flying
Let the breeze dry the tears as I tear through the dark
But sometimes I get tired you see
I cannot see where I’m going like I could before
The torch feels heavy without light
And the glare off others can overwhelm and blind me
So I need to sit and breathe but that is when the clouds come
Suddenly the north star fades completely and raindrops fall around me
I try to shelter my torch but it gets wet again
The weight grows again
Making my arms hurt again
I cannot see others down here but they are here for sure
More and more fall from the sky
Some still have the strength to land as do I
Others weakened by the darkness land hard
Helping one another maybe we can dry our torches?
Perhaps we can rise together and share the load
Like an extinguished phoenix rising from the ashes
With dreams of bursting through the clouds and into the sun
Reigniting our torches and joining the dance once more
The thought makes me hopeful
Today I’m not so sure
My arms hurt
I think I need to rest again
-
Mah’wish
They call her the pink moon
The April moon
Atop her throne in the sky she sits
A beguiling Queen
In the darkest hour she somehow finds light
A beacon that makes us raise our heads skyward
Captivating eyes with her light
Clouds like the gentle sweeping of an artists brush grace her face
Yet they dare not linger too long for the sky belongs to her
Enchanted by her light, studying her features
Tell me, is she frowning, drowning or crying in despair?
Now look in your heart, do you feel the light?
Look up again and see her smile back at you
She saw all your scars and she’s still there
Quietly observing without judgement
Listening to your lifetime in a few fleeting moments
How fortunate we are for this April moon
This lofty exalted moon
At once my closest companion
Yet achingly out of reach
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Evening stroll
The quiet seclusion of an empty street before me
Walking alone, hands in my pocket though it’s not cold
Silence sweeps all the way around the bend in the road ahead
Between the street lights my shadow plays hide and seek
And I can’t tell who is following who
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Alvida
There’s still a little flame that burns me
A faded light that turns my attention elsewhere
Where I face obverse to where I travel
Though the road unravels ahead
The dim flicker of the old flame kept my eyes aglow
Bends in the road and I stumbled
Fumbling as though blind, though I still see a light
..fading..
the wick barely sticking to the droplets of wax, where once stood a pillar
My beacon once illuminated the sky and now it’s going to cease to be
And I watch..waiting to see it extinguish
In all its diminished glory
The lonely page at the end of the story
The flame wisps and whispers, breathing its last
Yet tomorrow is almost here
And I’ll have no need for candles
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