Soul blisters

There are sores and blisters on my skin

I know not from wence they came

after the morning light sprawled through my sill

I felt the hands of time ticking backwards

Reminisce on past duende

I was like fluid running between iron framework

some would swear I was too arrogant

I took the form of a space-occupying lesion

The blisters lasted a few years

before they coalesced together like a wave

reminding me the past never hides away

this tumor can only be carved with laser

But this isn’t about the blisters

it’s not even about arrogance

though they all influence my demeanour

it is about the keel i’ve rebuilt since then

I’ve dug out fossils of my being

and wiped off secretion from my chin

i keep pointing into the shards like there’s someone there

to help me climb out of this jar

I’m fairly stronger than a twig

My process is a layer of chaotic wind

It’s time to disintegrate my ship

and healed confidence where shame blisters once were

The process

I tried many times to explain how it works

but really there is no formular to solve this

the mess is alway supposed to be ugly

Something you should hide from everyone that knows you

if they see it, you feel guilty. if they don’t, you feel guilty

you don’t tell anybody and you nurture fear

now there is hole, borrowed so deep you can’t see the end

this all started with your perception of the mess

look at the mess you’ve made

you’ve harvested a basket of regret

i can’t speak right, and i cant laugh right

but the mess could be beautiful too

i don’t need these guilt

i don’t need to worry about others beliefs

it’s the process of unravelling your mess that straps you tighter inside

like a fly struggling in a Venus fly trap

but you could see it as a person

let it know you’re still afraid but this phase will pass

as long as we live, there will always be new messes to process

better to work with it than to push against

there’s never been a formula for it

I am a mess, but i’m beautiful still.

A Thousand Desires

A thousand days hold a thousand desires

folded deep in the solace of their palms

the longer I live, the more I yearn

to melt the ice that stores my desires

Humanity has taken away my compassion

replaced it fragile threads of apathy

I rented out my praiseful soul

to be a prisoner to karma’s undoings

My lust for power

has everything to do with life seductions

I blink so the viel that clouds my vision

may fall into the a furnace of enlightenment

Everyday I contemplate these Alexandrian dreams

unbidden treasures that pierce the clouds

Naked are the desires that caress my eyes

separating me from my soul’s deepest connections

Presence

Breath in. 5…4…3…2…one I saw a nix sitting on a branch of a fig tree, dipping her toes into the stream of water below her. creating ripples that waned and faded. She looked sad on this beautiful Armenian night, perhaps it was the shadow she carried that whispered chaos in her mind.

Breath out. 1…2..3.4 five, every living creature has a mind, and is therefore equally important. The Owl on the spitz of the old fig was not more relevant than the Nix, and my life is worth the same as hers. I wondered if she could have been sad because the presence of the moon on this night was divine and she wished she could bottle up the milky way and the falling stars, or she wasn’t mindful enough to realise she was more than the feelings she allowed to overwhelm her thoughts;

the state if mind where she wanted the night to schatter into broken shards, prick her skin so she could feel her life force… or anything really. swallow her whole and drop her off the face of the earth.

She couldn’t speak stillness to the old fig, or reach out to touch the elusive moon. The lines between her reality and her reflection were blurred by a spurring internal conflict that could be solved by a drop of presence.

On this beautiful Armenian night I crouched next to her and told her to live in the moment, exactly how it was, listening to her heart beat, not wanting more or expecting less. Every day nature weaves a balance of subtle miracles before our ever dreaming eyes. If we’re lucky, our hearts can capture every butterfly smile our irises have yet to see.

The Garden

It’s the beginning of yet another week, I know

I know the dark calls to you sometimes

I know you walk down roads you know you shouldn’t

I know you observe your reflection through a jumble of shards

I know you’re worn out, tired of reliving patterns of painful choices

I sense you feel hollow at times

like life is teasing you, dancing in front of you,

but escaping you somehow

i know you live in the disconnect between where you are

and what’s happening outside of you

i know how much it hurts to live there, in the divide

between what you feel you are, and what you wish you could be

The sun has kissed your skin and you have inhaled it with complete trust

and you sometimes move without knowing what’s next

at times it feels paralysing to live with yourself.

I know you’ve worked so hard to control the outcome of your life

that you forget to meet yourself in the quiet and breath yourself full again

that you live in the shallow end and you forget to go deep,

breath deep ujjayi

you forget there is wealth of abundance and trust in you

i know there are places in yourself that you do not love

the parts you wrestle away

you visit them them from time to time, hoping they’re not there

i know you long to live in bliss

and when you arrive there you are so alive as if everything around you

is telling you yes, you’re home.

but i know shadows come while you’re asleep

and drag you down the familiar landscape of fear

I know you wonder if the light will ever return

because you’re tired of this upbeat dance between the two worlds.

you’re learning to taste heaven, grown wings

you’re accepting the difference

between sun soaked mornings and dark forests

you are human my dear and are allowed to be in both places

you are not damaged

you are not failing

you are allowed to be lost in dark rivers

be gentle when doubt comes, when fear chokes

when darkness debilitates you

spend special care to cultivate the garden of love when you come across these dark corridors.

know that you are offered the chance to tend your garden

the dark offers you a chance to love all the places you’d never dare

all the places you curse

where we deprive ourselves of love is where we need it most

when the dark comes , tell it what it what it wants so badly to hear,

You are loved.

The Giant

I’m sitting on a balcony, separated from a motor way by a field of corn. Long enough that the swaash of Autos sound like binaural beats in my ears. Today is one when the sun is extra shy, so she’s hidden behind the clouds. The howling wind is substantive proof that a storm is brewing in the distance.

I do not fear the trickle of rain or the cold that has trapped my waning breath. Through the gaps between the trees, I’m stifled by a horrific giant. He is twice the height of an oak with skin so pale, it’s almost cyanotic. The veins on his forehead are visible, like a helmet made from the thickest part of a black widow’s web.

His eyes are buggy and bulgy, and they’re resting heavily on me.

I’ve never felt so weak like I do now, felt the need to plead for a chance of redemption. My breath is faint. My voice wont give up more than a fragile moan. My heart is beating slower by the day as the giant draws nearer.

I can’t keep on living this way. I am barely surviving. Something has to change, and fast. I wish I could snap my fingers and sentence this giant to the edge of the earth. His brawny body struggling to balance against the weigh of gravity, so that he is suspended in astral Limbo

What delight that would be. I’d dance again with rekindled passion. My lungs would be inspired to sing an old song in a new tune. And I’d walk out of the battle camp holding his decapitated head as a laurel.

I would like that very much I would. Even the thought of it warms my heart and causes my lips to curve upward.

Yet he draws closer everyday to me.

I do have another theory, one that terrifies me more. I do not know from where my giant came, perhaps he was formed between crevices in a mountainous region. But what if, he is harmless. Perhaps his hideous features are just for me to welcome and accept. And his mission is to help me align perspectives. It wouldn’t do much good to treat him like an unapproachable vermin.

He may well be an ally. I couldn’t know.

It’s the more reason to surrender, rather than dig a moat and build a buttress. I want to believe that the clouds are tired of absorbing the precipitation and will consequently release the blizzard that propagates the giant’s footstep to me.

The worse he could do would be to obscure my stance, challenging me to find refined vision in a paler shade of umbra. Maybe then he would vanish, taking with him the manacles weighing on my limbs and leaving behind an aura, that strips every façade and laces my tongue with a dose of truth.

image courtesy: Pixabay.com

I love to

I love to

echo with my wading breath

like fireflies in a foggy night

it never stirs me wrong

I love to

immerse into the sensations of my body

My chest rise and falls

My hands are open to nurturing

I love to

strike my heels on dust

let my muscles grow fatigue

true strength is found within

I love to

dissect ideas and stories

to instigate unimaginable scenarios

when caressing the keys yields art

I love to

press my eyelids against each other

Only then will life reveal itself

then the world melts into something wondrous

I love to

notice the synergy of vibrating energies

It is neither created nor destroyed

it merely changes state like matter

I love to

invite love into my heart

give more than receive

Abundance is a choice after all

I love to

relish on the future

simplicity is in life and it’s questions

why worry about  the unknown?

I love to

connect with my one  true father

The keeper of my  peace

Wisdom pours through him

I love to

make fun of my spongy bunny

I look at him him and suddenly

life becomes  a lot less serious

There are too many things l love

like soaking in a bath with amazing scents,

or talking with my love

These blessings are copious and innumerable.

I’d love it if you decide to share this post to your social media circle. Love and Peace. Idara.

Earth to Mars

Make up a story

You can live in

Translate it into everything you see

The edgy night, the cloaked stars

It’ll ripple your life over and again

In perpetual cycle

of the present moment

Chiming to a hastened ocean breath

 

 

The less one can see

The more limitless

The mind is programmed to be

The harder it is to stay grounded.

What if I discovered a way

to do both

to go from Earth to Mars

What if.

Know Thy Worse Self

We’ve all heard it. We’ve watered it. And it’s grown, and it’s growing faster than innovation. It is the voice of destruction. The one who wants to kill you. The one who will stifle you, and choke you to death without justice.

I’ve listened to it whine, all my life. It’s told me how senseless I am. That I’m too dumb to ever be taken seriously. I am too weird to ever have a meaningful connection. I am too abnormal, no body could care less if I spoke or not. It said, I might as well blend in with the bland wall and disappear. Worse still, no one would notice if I’m gone.

For a long time I committed to it, it’s presence was seethingly stark in my earlier works.

Most days, I tried to reason with it, I accepted it, then I pleaded with it. Then, I  just disappeared like it told me to.

For a very very very long time, loneliness was in the air I breath, it was all I wrote about.

 

It wasn’t up to me, it wasn’t in my power. I began to realise how innovative I could be, then how fierce I am.

It’s okay if no one understands what my poetry is about. It’s gibberish, but even gibberish has added meaning to the heart. It’s fine that I’m not a jaunty influencer that everyone can connect with.

I’m weird, I know and nothing can take that away.

Nothing, not even you, the darkest side of my psyche can conquer me. I fight everyday to know my worse self, for only then can I truly destroy the bitch.

Once I had my wings broken, now I’m clawing my way out of darkness.

Letting myself know that I’m stronger for being weak.


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Image: pinterest

LIMITLESS- Affirmation for september

Have you ever felt bullied or persecuted?

Have you ever been in agony, the kind that caused you to  reverie on the  release of death?

Have you ever been homeless, not knowing where your next meal will come from?

Have you ever thought about  your future  and it’s feels bleak causing you anxiety?

Have you ever battled diseases, perhaps even counting down till your final wisp of air?

Have you ever felt like you should be anywhere else except where you are now?

Is there an omen in your family that limits your individuality?

Well  I would like to share Romans 8:28-39 with you  to negate every limitation that weighs down on you.

For the scripture says;

 

 

“If God is for us, who can ever be against us?

Since he did not spare even his own Son

but gave him for us all, won’t he also give us everything else?

Who dare accuse us whom God has chosen for his own?

No one—- for God himself has given us right standing with himself…

 

We see this scripture again in the famous John 3:16. I recited it several times as a kid, but I just discovered the revelation hidden within it.

The devil is so good at manipulating , he will use your own Ego. That’s right, your best friend works for  the enemy, and he will tell you everything about what’s wrong with you.

Fill you with insecurities about yourself. About God. About Life.

You will only ever see as far as he lets you see, till God reveals himself to you.

Until you realise Christ in you, there will always be limits.

Now is the time to break free .

The scripture says, that  Jesus is the firstborn, and we are his brothers and sisters. We are like Christ, it is our birth right

Here’s the trick though, no matter how many people tell you this, if you don’t see it, if you don’t believe it.  It is like tearing up 500 pounds and throwing it into the wind. I know, I’ve been there.

Now I practice meditating on the goodness of my Saviour.  There can be no better way to spend this lovely Sunday afternoon.  I’m gonna leave you with the most powerful part of Romans 8. Please believe the word

Remain blessed, May this month bring us much fruitfulness and align us closer to his purpose;

 

 

“Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love?

Does it mean he no longer love us if we have trouble or calamity,

or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death?

(As the scriptures say, “for your sake we are killed every day, we are being slaughtered

like sheep)

No despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loves us.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.

Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons

neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow

—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love

No power in the sky above or in the earth below

—-indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love

of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”