In a time when I was made, in a moment when I came to be;
A naive being anticipated an innocent world;
Filled with the sunshine of love and pure bliss;
While in the dark chambers of an earthy balloon;
Meditating in such light of speechless serenity;
Curiosity forces it out of the bloody cave;
Finally, it sees its imaginations but cries;
Not in response to new life but rather to a dead world;
Is this the world I asked for, whispered its wailing?
But no one cared, its mourning was their dancing.
Time strolled in to give it a brief journey;
Many sights, many voices and many words;
And soon the “it” believed it was a she or he;
Claiming the wisdom of foolishness and the humility of pride;
The greed of ambition and the rage of passion;
Time paying a visit again and alas I was on the streets of my cosmos;
Now a living and spiritual matter willed a slave to reason and belief;
Beholding the hilarious laughter of suffering on my kind?
Nature groaning with me as I silently wailed “Is this the world I asked for?”
The trees moved by the broken tears of my heart;
Helpless were they to comfort my obscure agony;
They likewise victims of the hatred of my intelligence;
How I wished I had another world to call mycosmos before I came to be.
~shua~
In the history of existence, the clouds cry;
Denied justice in the courts of the sky, it has to rain;
Revealed by the segregated ponds of tears on a cloud of breathing dust;
What a necessary pain to experience the paradox of foolish wisdom;
The inventions of white opinions for a black breed;
A biased landscape of helpless biology clothed with perceived virtue;
Still the cheat of racial intelligence powered by an ancestral neuron;
Footprints along the rugged walkway of imposed speciation,
Alas, what a beautiful shame that humanity dictates my survival;
The complexity of blended colour in the face of normalized horror;
Pretence coating the admiration of superiority with a bitter smile;
Yet, it’s all one mother cell, same soil and a common end
Finding comfort in the confidence of humble and divine originality;
Though dead by the passion of sacrifice, yet alive on the strength of reason;
Endangered cultivars of my black Homo sapiens? Never mind.
We can never go extinct.
-shua-
A sunny smile shaded by a thick cloud;
My guten morgen were but a mere hallo;
No true revelation of my electrifying excitement at humanity;
No one can tell if I truly care, it’s just a clash of innocent pairs of eyes;
Whose true love are revealed by the gesture of the facial nerves;
I am but a stranger to my own kind in a vast world;
My identity forcefully imprisoned behind the bar of fabrics;
Because a microbe decided to become strikingly famous;
A piece of fiber punishing my nasal opening;
An aggressive blockage to its helpful holes;
My oxygen rationed into unreasonable portions;
Can imagine my cells seeking to wage a large protest;
But calmed by the parental comfort of my neurons;
My stylistic ears given an undesired posture;
The odour of my mouth now the prevalent visitor at the doorsteps of my lungs;
Alas, when shall it end? Do we hope for relief or do we expect to believe?
That some prophecy has risen from its knees, to demonstrate ruthless dominion;
Yet my body cares less in a mess of many stress;
Seeing its sensory entry is forcefully denied nakedness;
In hope I hope that I might gain my freedom;
To again breathe the air of the Creator’s nature;
Freely given, even if I wish to pay a cent for a bit;
While a wait, let me but enjoy the reality of my hidden smile.
Earthly life, a speck in eternity, with such strange briefness;
Yet what a spectacle to behold the beauty of the aged mind;
An abstract entity to consider when it speaks from the lips of walking wisdom;
Every word depicting the scars of suffering, the hurts and the hates, the miracles and mistakes;
The memories of a priceless love for a symbiotic relationship;
The ornament of a friendly rod and the jewelry of a rough smile;
The fine grassland of white beards on an undulating facial landmass;
With the snowy eyebrow dancing to the tune of poor sight;
Yet it’s all a superficiality of the true worth of the aged mind;
Having tasted the bitterest goodies of life, it sure can tell what really sweet pain is;
The aged, the aged, in the fullness of his weak strength, is prone to silence;
A page-less book within a few words, a reflection of wisdom’s might in the aged mind;
Alas, every earthen vessel must experience the reality of this despised phase of life;
Much more a greater desire to anticipate it; not as a burden but rather a fountain of wise wisdom;
Let me prepare to be an irresistible walking wisdom in my season of patient steps towards eternity.
If time was all a lie and the truth of my reality a fallacy, it’s no excuse for me to believe in my originality still.
-shua-
What is consciousness but a contamination that festers in a neuronal fruit, an extension of a corporeal tree germinated from a seed of an undefined reality.
-shane-
Oh, indeed, a forbidden personality sown into an unreal earth of assumption but never dies to the force of illusion.
-shua-
Great is the weight in your hands, of the keys to a person’s own little twisted world with pathological quirks bound by four walls, as the rest vie for a glimpse through the keyhole.
-shane-
An empty hand stretched out for a door to a mist of absolute endless oblivion even when steps of efforts wish to be heard.
-shua-
Winter is too cruel. Do bring in to my life, this vista of the tangerine sun setting beyond my strawberry curtains, every single day.
-shane-
Yet, the snow on the leafless tree is the beauty beyond the optical channels of your heart, an answer to the prayers of a bored camera.
-shua-
Unfortunate are the ones who have poison shoved down their throats yet are limbless to resist, and how they get soaked in it brutally till they become the poison themselves.
-shane-
Yet, what a pity to be the victim of the poison that makes you the human that might be but was not and should never.
-shua-
My feet communed with earth and my mind praised the wisdom of life without foreknowing the pain in an innocent adventure that was all a truthful falsehood of what was hoped for.
-shua-
A life carved by hopes, where your footfall echoes within the hearts of the worthy and your faculties reserved for the sake of the needy, is the only true adventure you would need.
-shane-
Destination: Love. Directions yelled by my unhinged heart, the worst ever navigator. Do we turn here? Or is it way up ahead? Or maybe, did we pass it already?
-shane-
A destination too far away from the close range of my heart but yet alive to the reality of the future to come. It’s no wonder I have to keep the pace to its abode.
A view inside the “Scheveningse Woods”, a forest park in Den Haag, Netherlands appearing woody and naked, with its attire strewn across the forest floor.
Awakening from my irresistible hibernation, I beheld the sparkling morning smiling right at me.
Reluctant to leave the embrace of my mattress; Time whispered the urgency to be prepare for the educative box.
Arising in the disgust of my laziness, I took a very slow flight to the cleaning chambers to attend to my royal earth;
Done with such ethical task, my garments patiently waited for me within my private walls. And soon, my heels received marching orders to the bus station.
In the long rectangle with gigantic legs, I met similar breathing earths- above all young Asian entities with milky skins- alas my classmates
Moving on, I landed within the walls of knowledge to receive sophia and what a day once again with the epitome of walking knowledge himself- the professor.
Desperately praying for time to race with speed, I anticipated a break in endless time and soon it came. What an amazing decision to explore nature’s beauty- a path lined up on both sides with gorgeous woody trees. Such a beautiful sight.
My face couldn’t help but borrow the radiance of the shaded sun for a while.. Probably the moon hiding its face in celestial envy of the brightness of my joy with my dearest friends. Laughter was intoxicating even with the freezing cold…. My facial nerves excited like a photon.
A picture here, a picture there… all by the hands of a daring Sri Lankan. Then the resonating smile of an Indonesian and an intimidating pose from a Nepalese, all a display of true happiness in true friendship. What a hope that it remains a happily ever after with my friends. Indeed, it was a woody morning for me.
The doors of the Leiden Citadel opening to a breathtaking view of the oldest church (Pieterskerk Church) of Leiden, Netherlands.
Growing up from the cradle of poor poverty, he has always dreamed of a kingly reality. This was never just a wishy fantasy. There was a certainty of destiny in him wrapped up in the fragnance of obscurity. Though the surrounding atmosphere crushed his dexterity with the finest display of amazing mediocrity.
How daringly he tried to believe his originality when challenged with the audacity of many rootless opinions and sterile perceptions.
Yet he befriended time to reveal his future in the present.
And suddenly, just suddenly, time arrived too early. He was summoned to be king. Now a season with a reason was upon him. He had been revealed by prophecy to wear the ancient robes of a dying king of his nameless kingdom.
Indeed prophecy – riding on the horseback of fearless superstition, sacredly delivered with the brilliance of fiction.
And he arrived….gently appearing out of the invisible air with an apparent majestic display of jocularity.
Beholding the throne ahead, he walked a thousand miles in every step, time giving him space for his pace.
Soon with a sunny smile and milky look, he expected the crown to sit upon his evoluntionized scalp.
Oh my…… but there was a loud scream…. “Ade oo00000” again and again.
Perplexity had arrested him, the clouds forming on his simple face, the raindrops of perspiration all over.
He was awakend by his mother…. and he wept because alas it was a dream in daylight.
MyCuppaTea 