Literal meaning of the term in all its forms!
A quiet moment,
Rarity, held in a palm;
A pulse,
Kept warm and safe;
Allowed to echo,
And, grow;
Into an enchantment,
Found within its song,
Now, cradling your soul;
Providing you solace,
Like a mother to a newborn,
Save, the roles have reversed in time,
The child has grown,
And, it is he who now holds your frail body,
Whispering words of comfort,
As you die.
She walked off the train:
An oriental doll wearing a short skirt, with cropped jet-black hair, and a determined expression;
Girl, you’re like a Manga Assassin walking off the comic book page;
Immaculate to look upon;
A jaw-dropping dragon tattoo along the entire length of one perfectly proportioned set of pins-
A coiled up serpent, disappearing beneath the fold of her skirt;
Leaving any man salivating for a full showing!
You make me forget my age for a moment,
Forget even that i’ve got a girl,
Returning me to a lust-struck teenager of yesteryear;
Throwing caution to the wind in abandonment,
Chasing tail;
Celebrating every success with glee-filled shuffle,
Taking all the put downs on the chin,
Living for the moment,
A far cry from recent creeping maturity!
However, as she walks off into the distance,
Being feverishly tailed by the memory of the boy that I was;
Forgetting the 9,999 reasons why he has no chance,
Naively hoping to make the luscious red lips of this object of affection, break out into a pearly white smile;
The man that I am, turns to the girl alongside (undoubtedly following the antics befalling within my line of sight with amusement):
‘Sweety, if I thought you had a chance… I’d let you’, she said with a mock sympathetic smile;
‘Easily’, I lied, ‘but, one dragon at home is enough’, I said while netting my fingers through hers,
‘You better believe it’, she replied, returning a squeeze of the hand;
And, my wife and I continued on our journey home.
Absorb the unrelenting pain,
Whatever the cause;
The challenges it brings,
Consider and reflect;
Distil it,
To see what few others can;
Let it become an obsession,
Take great pains to turn it into something beautiful,
For, the best artistic endeavours are labours of love;
Pain is an inevitable part of both loving and living;
Mastering a source of unrelenting pain,
Beckoning creativity from it,
To transform into something breathtakingly beautiful,
Is another reason they call the end product,
Done well:
A ‘masterpiece’!
I feel myself inexplicably reaching for the stars,
The vast eternity that peppers the night sky,
Brightest petals of the celestial wilderness that lies beyond,
Everything has its season,
Theirs is measured in millennia;
Pick apart the petals,
Measure it to your soul – the very essence of your being,
Feel it resonate like a calling,
Draw solace to face the reality:
You are but a bee on a flower of blue,
In a vast garden stretching beyond imagining;
I cannot help but agree with the proposition, therefore:
We were never meant to dwell on this flower alone;
How about you?
At a standstill,
Empty of thought,
A blank slate,
Like the moment before:
An artist creates,
Planer beholds,
A soldier engages,
Seeing in your mind’s eye what will be,
Before, engaging the body into action;
With competence,
Confidence and deftness,
Practised efficiency,
Innovation;
Channelling all your experiences,
What makes you unique in the cacophony,
Into one moment,
Faithful to the task at hand,
In pursuit of perfection,
For you (like I) owe it to justify your existence,
Even if it’s the one thing you truly believe in, or not.
First day,
I felt the warm sun on my face,
Didn’t have to wear a overcoat,
Heard more ‘g’d mornings’ than I had been accustomed to,
Saw that the flower buds were peaking, readying to flower ‘n’ bloom,
Heard the birdsong of the morning more vividly than ever,
Noticed that I could watch the female form walk in various stages of undress, all day long;
Had to remind myself to act my age and not stare, more than a handful of times;
Spring does literally put a spring in everyone’s step;
Absence, obviously, makes the heart grown fonder;
And now that the sun has returned home from its winter wars in the south (as it usually does this time of the year),
We have more than the solitary letters home that kept our spirits up through the long winter months;
The northern hemisphere is about to turn en mass into a cult of sun worshippers,
For the next five months at least, before this faithful soldier goes off to war yet again,
When we’ll have only it’s irregular letters to keep us company over the cold winter months once more;
So, enjoy the view while you can,
Get out there:
Play, be merry, and catch-up on all the to-dos;
For everything is temporary,
And in these unpredictably inclement times (termed variously, as el nino, climate change, et al),
You never know if and when the sun may be recalled to the war front early.
You know you don’t need makeup;
You are naturally very beautiful,
If your insecurities mean that you must,
Know that you are nature’s work of art,
And, the barest hint of exaggeration is all you need:
To turn you into a classic masterpiece!