to force words out
before they even bloom
is like spraying a glass of water over an ocean wave
hoping it'll come faster. more potent
does it look more?
blood will only flow
as fast as the heart beats.
if the heart is not beating
the flow is gone.
fire with no oxygen
goes out.
the feeling evaporates
before it has a chance
to grow.
parchment needs to be receptive
to take in all the shiny ink
and hold it, dearly, like a treasure.
lines make up words that mean worlds
or part of one world.
a line is part of the drawing that tells one and a half story
of this man dancing across the sky
followed by the sun, the moon, and the stars.
his heart beat gladly, he was radiant with life
and the night was pulsing with colourful lights
like aurora borealis, mesmerizing. he found his calling
and he was the light. not a shiny crystal — pretty but uninspiring.
he was a breath of life to all life forms around
existence touched by his gaze shone from the inside
his language was blood, honey, and fire
he romanced with god, awakened with desire
for life. his spirit was potent, magnetic, an ocean
his being fulfilled thirst of the lost.
everybody wanted his presence. his power was soft
effortless. he flew through moments like water, like air
and just to sit with him was a medicine.
he taught joy by being. delight embodied.
ecstasy was his rhythm and flow was his rhyme
he never searched. he opened his eyes and fulfilment bloomed all around
because he saw, not merely looked.
was life perfect? no. never. it wasn't.
he wore thorns on his wrists, dripping with blood.
but so were the roses in his hair. they were wet with tears
of sadness, fear, and joy.
they turned scarlet, trickling down and over his hair
making it sticky with honey and dirty with mud.
his blood never clotted. he breathed fully, never stifling a sigh.
and so his thorns shone with life.
the blood wasn't a horror, a wound's tears. not scary
it was life. pouring over from him and inside him
for he let it flow. let it be. let himself be.
never said "no" to his deepest self.
he burned down chains and dispelled abuse
he knew his power and he used it, wise.
he never feared fear. never hid a cry.
he let life follow his lead and where he couldn't lead
he followed life.
.
.
.
23.8.24 (opublikowany 28 (po północy, so 29).9.24)
CZYTASZ
heart beats
Puisi~ poezje itp ~ w gruncie rzeczy, jesteśmy worami mięsa, kości, i flaków. ale w tym worze mieści się mózg, a mózg to wciąż niezbadana złożoność, która z prostego wora potrafi uczynić święty graal. the heart beats/heartbeats/heartbeat: serce bije, ser...
