scarlet red

it was
the leaving of
the scarlet red
that marked
the end
for blossoming flowers
which congested
what morning dews
produce
that introduced
a journey
to the crossroad
but before it begun
i had to bury
foreverafter
but i think
i didn’t really dig
deep enough
for the coffins
to sink
and sometimes
the ghost of the past
comes out
to haunt
but i’ve somehow
learned to move on
even at the pace
where even snails
outran me
but at least
i can still kiss
the ripping out of the heart
spells bliss
for the moment
when they birth in me
worlds that i never thought existed
or stuff i never thought mattered
but who knew
not me
that life could begin again
even after
everything i gave for
broken and shattered

and to the wind
i give a toast
to kiss the dark brewing
of a ghost
i place my trust
in the divine
in whom i’ve learned
to invite and dine
and to the leaving
of the sweet scarlet red
which i held
and i bled
sometimes to live again
life needs to embrace death.

 

truth that’s worth my trust (and it’s 2 part evolution)

for truth one seeks to find,
in books of scholars,
their facts and findings,
with information,
on websites,
sometimes leaves one blinding,
who should we then,
trust for hearing,
if not for those,
whose facts,
ascribe to,
a life worth living.

The above poem was one I wrote as my status on Facebook. A friend liked the past where I incorporated “website” and another friend tagged along and gave suggestions for a revamp. Here was his suggestion:

for truth one seeks to find,
in facebook profile of scholars,
their status updates and tweets,
with information,
on websites,
sometimes leaves one blinding,
who should we then,
trust for hearing,
if not for those,
whose facts,
ascribe to,
a life worth living.

After reading through I touched his suggestion with my own additions and this was the end product of the poem.

for truth one seeks to find,
in facebook profile of scholars,
their status updates and tweets,
with information,
on websites,
sometimes leaves one blinding,
who should we then,
trust for hearing,
if not for those,
whose facts,
embedded not with just,
touched up images,
enhanced by techies,
who subscribe to the art of perfecting pixels,
but a depiction of reality
to a life worth living.

The poem was inspired reading through a blog post where someone was giving out pointers on how he navigates himself through the influx of articles on the net and find the ones worthy of his trust in giving out information.

Why Should I Follow You?

Why should I follow you?
When in the immediate state of need
Which pockets are empty and stomachs grow hungry
When poverty has pitched its tent
Arguing its stay without paying rent

Why should I follow you?
You promise only hardship
And so importantly the state of abandoning self
Compelling a call to ready sacrifice like a belt
To cling and so to hold on
I make your scars my own
Is that for joy i ask myself?

Why should I follow you?
When all around me
Others are waving their arms
Setting sail and laughing around
Feeling as though whatever
Is worth is only self, wanting a life of plunder

Why should I follow you?
A decision not understood as merely rational
But more born of something rather than conjured
From experience rather than gained,
For a life worth living more than my own name

Why should I follow you?
For when in brokenness a sinner sees himself
With open arms received
And wounds are met with tender hands
And life is given another chance
Maybe that’s a small notion of following you it seems.