Bolt

it was the calm before the storm
the birds flew, polka dotting the sky
the clouds, were in fast forward
while he stood there
paused, marveling at the
world’s motion

The chilly breeze kissed his cheeks
igniting flames of redness
the sun was there, shying behind the clouds
fearing what’s coming
Her rays escapes through
the space between the cotton like clouds

His hair danced, left and right
in abrupt swaying motions, as if it tangoed
with an ex-lover, pulsating hatred
mingling with attraction

He looked around, it was meek
dreary, dull, it looked like
something great was about to happen
he was oblivious as to what

He liked the mystery of it all
he thrived on the curiosity that churned within
The ambiance got darker, the sun fled in fear
the grey-ness, crept in
engulfing the purity of the sky
with some sort of dark magic

His eyes wondered
at the great big space above
he could sense, but didn’t really feel
The wind blew, waves of power
it moved him, it pushed him around
He was surprised at its strength

More wind, more black magic
it stripped him off his clothes
it pushed him away from the urban bullshit
it carried him, beyond seas, and evergreen forests
the man showed no struggle, he was just cold,
scathed, bruised, naked,

it carried him to meet the mythical mermaids
to kiss the crisp mountain tops
to shake hands with the wizards of nature
it carried him to near extinct cultures
it dipped him in the dead sea
it painted him with tribal symbols
it placed him in the arms of beautiful maidens
and alluring harems

the sun peeked from time to time
to check on her fellow observer, the man who stood there
looking back in silence, she teared up at the merciless acts of the wind
She asked the wind “WHY?”
“There is nothing worse than a someone, empty
I moved him,
his stagnation is slowly killing him” the wind said

The sun hid behind a grey cloud and asked again
“He marveled at the simple things, let him be”

The wind blew one last time, placing him
back where he carried him
the man was smiling, shaking with adrenaline

“Can you hear that?” the wind asked

THUD, THUD, THUD

The sun came up, putting the wind at ease, brightening the sky
She looked at him, while he gained control of his limbs
as he carried his thin body, to balance them to his feet

“I needed that” the man hummed
as he placed his hand on his chest
as if cupping his heart, hugging something he missed

I needed an escape
from the stagnant plague
and a bolt to shock
that muscle between my ribs

wind 2

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Tender

Butterflies you say
they have fled my being
to a lost land
that adventurers seek

Goosebumps, the ones
that ignite your skin
in a series of nervous reactions
have hibernated
hiding away from the coldness
that has taken over

Adrenaline has become an acquired drug
the one you need a prescription for
or nepotism to get your hands on some

Eye glistens, those are now
found in a fairy tale, the one
that once you narrate
starts a series of
“awwws” and melodies
of lovely sighs

Loss of appetite, well
that’s there, but that just
a bodily calling, for fear of
starvation – no longer
linked to euphoria

Rosey cheeks, they now
reminisce over the memories
of warm moments, blushing
torments, that expose the inner
most deepest feelings

Flame inside, it has dimmed
making way for more ideas
new replacements, new habits
new lights, bright delights
in the form of creative juices

Ah nostalgia, what a trip
what a glorious memory,
yet for some messed up reason
when you lay your tender lips on mine
You spontaneously ignite
the serious of previous events
in a split
second
resulting in an explosion of color
painting my world

agnes cecile

Art by Agnes Cecile

Challenge

“Someone asked me today

“Can you write the saddest thing
and make your readers vicariously feel it?”
I looked at him with a smile
a sly one indeed, for it truly
contradicts the task demanded from me

I smiled when asked to write
a grim entry, oddly enough
I didn’t hesitate projecting my
glee, again I say
oddly
what a paradox right?

I shall take joy and pride in dissecting
the events, in making your heart ache and
your eyes cringe, it inflicts so much
emotions that your heart will go into overdrive
but wait, I shall do this slow and dark
I shall bask under the grimness of it all
I shall be the darkness that will rain on your parade
the splash you mostly dread from cars
passing by,
I shall be the puddle with
the deep end, the one you step in before your interview
I shall be the heart ache that has taken so many years from your life
so much effort from your side
and I will burn as I heal and close the broken cracks within

I shall be the tune in a movie scene, that strums your heart
that generates ripples of goosebumps
that dilates your pupils
I shall be the epic downfall of your favorite character in that movie

I shall be the bitter taste of bad wine
the bottle you’ve waited so long to open
I shall be the stale chocolate
that you have craved for so long
I shall be the feeling that will make your eyes beat
before the waterfall tears

I shall be the escalation of events
that will generate aches of emotional
uneasiness, starting from your stomach
making its way to your throat
where it will nestle as a lump
before the cry fest

Ladies and gentlemen this is NOT the entry
this is a mere description of the melancholic
lag
that flows superfluously like the smooth
golden threads of honey
collecting itself at the bottom
layer upon layer
until
it reaches that climactic height
and then loses balance
and falls
ruining
that tiny castle
of honey
that you have meticulously
created
and now you
remorse
over

Do you feel me?
I know
I made you
feel!

faces

Freedom

If I had the freedom
to abdicate to my
wildest thoughts

I would be on a plane
heading to a destination
that would arouse
my stagnant senses

Those that have been shot down
by the self inflicted social routine,
slowly reaping what is left
of what makes me human

If I had the freedom
I would be a bird
with wings spread
flying and looking down,
but never being a part of
the dirt, the chaos, the murder
the beauty, the innocence

If I had the freedom
I would carelessly voice “I love you’s”
to everyone who needs it
I would hand it out like free candy

To those whose hearts
that need mending
I will be their glue

To those whose hearts that are broken
I will give them a new ones
To those whose hopes have been crushed
I will hand them jars upon jars of bubble-wrapped aspirations

If I had the freedom
I would share stories with strangers
and listen to theirs and instantly
feel richer

If I had the freedom
I would spend my days
with my fingers dancing out
words on that blank slate
compiling pages and pages
of material to read and be read

If I had the freedom
I would make peace with all those
whose pride has eaten them alive
whose past has amplified hate into their future
and mine

If I had the freedom
I would remove myself from the digital world
that has eaten my time and wasted my eye sight

If I had the freedom
I would land my lips on yours
and kiss you, because you are beautiful

If I had the freedom…
I would embrace you
and tell you everything will be O.K

But
I don’t
and
I won’t

Held Back

Layers

The exciting mystery
of your depth
Sparks with such electricity
that tempts the purest of souls
to tamper with it

The unraveling of your layers
that cover the gilded heart within
paused time, when it decided to proceed
My tamed intuitions are bewitched
by some sort of invisible energy

Every layer of you told a story
of a phase that embodies itself
in your system
As I attentively removed every shield
I soaked in every story, every bullshit
every compliment, every insult
that left that mouth of yours

Wait, my heart didn’t beat yet
Has it not been awakened by the
tangible feelings above?
Or it has it become immune to the
sly games of this thing called love
that has driven writers mad and lovers
insane?

As I sat there, with a mellow beating heart
I tried to dive back into the world
outside my rib cage and into the conversation

My eyes dissected every feature,
Silently reading those invisible
words that expose themselves
nakedly, to be read by every passer by
Those none verbal ques
those movements
fidgeting, confidence,
crossed hands, running hand through hair

I read them, as words filled the atmosphere with noise
I lit my cigarette so as to satiate my nicotine craving
Time became slow, bad sign I know
As I pulled back, as if a beckoning from my heart
I rest my back on the wooden chair
It’s wonderful how your unspoken motions
send waves of meaning

I gazed, I gathered the small elements
I absorbed the meaning
from the picture as a whole
a moment of awareness
and I embraced it
and it felt rewarding
this feeling of blasé
this feeling of self realization
this feeling of loving upon demand
and not upon heart felt control

I sat there, I with a smoky cloud
embellishing the dry atmosphere
in between, I smiled
and I said
“You know, I don’t really care”
With dilated eyes, you looked at me
and noticed that I too have layers
that need unraveling
be it delicately or ravishly

Layers to the Bone

Sinful

They told me,
that over expressing myself
can back fire on me

But how can one, control
those emotions, that gasp
for the freshness of the air
around them, once you blurt them?

How can one harness,
these boiling feelings
that yearn to be shared?

How can you sit there,
having these ideas
dressed up as feelings
swim between your fiery neurons?

How can the sharing of something
so deep and intimate
backfire?

I wondered…

They told me
to put reigns on my feelings
They told to halt them whenever
they tended to roam uncontrollably

But how can something so wild
so human and so true
be tamed?

How can something so personal
and so magical be selfishly kept to me?
How can you control yourself
from allowing some feelings
to be directed to him and her
and not him nor her?

I pondered

I tested myself, I decided
to block these emotions
to politely ask my heart
to feel when needed

I failed miserably

for I am a definition of how I feel
a clear meaning of how
I fall for a stupid smile
a sly lie, an embellished compliment,
a beautiful song, a tasty morning cigarette

then I paused and thought to myself

Why should I stop the only catalyst
that drives to me embark on careless
reckless adventures?

Why should I stop feeling, when
everything else is feeling-less?

Why should I control the magic
that you and you and you
relate to

Then I could feel that THUD again
and comprehended the fact
that feeling, is the only fascination
that can be define as a curse and a blessing!

So go ahead, share a cigarette
with a friend and be eloquent
about those feelings
being beautifully
sinful

Beautiful emotions

Beautiful emotions