Its a long way back from the edge of life. I knew when I followed that path to the outer limits of my experience, my emotions raw and excited with newness of knowledge and feeling, that the price for this wonder is the journey back. It’s beautiful on the way to that edge, my soul being easily amazed by pleasures which offer no sure guidance and seduce me with their passion. This excitement is the elixir of madness offered by my wayward senses to lure me beyond the wise and sure. I have recognized the most painful of these experiences are the ones that offer extreme pleasures that lead me away from safety. There are many secrets out on that cliff, many of those secrets are taught on the journey back from the precipice. Run to the edge with reckless abandon, gather your pleasures of knowledge and lust, and know, a price will be paid. I’ll see you on our way back…
First Published in Opinionsofeye.com
Recently an active exchange of poetic responses began between a friend and I. He wrote this beautiful one and sent it my way…and that’s how it began
When storms have raged and passed away
Can gentle calm succeed?
I sleep to ease a troubled mind
Sleep is the friend that I need…
With these few words I speak my mind
You in this, a quest will find
My quest is clear…seek it out
Love is a tyrant…when in doubt
I got an instant inspiration; and i wrote down the following words in response:
This storm is here for eternity,
No trace of calmness can I see…
No sleep, no rest can soothe my mind
No friend can bring me glee…
This unending quest kills me everyday,
I can’t reach where I want to be…
This doubt can be tyrant I know,
Still this love shall be a part of me…
We appreciated each other’s work and then obviously forgot about it. And just today when I was having my lunch; I got another set of couplets from him in response to what I wrote a week back:
Your storm once raged and passed away,
And the gentle calm did succeed
You slept and eased a troubled mind
Yet now sleep is the friend I need
In those few words you spoke your mind…
…and yet I was so lost, dumb and blind…
Your love’s still a tyrant, there’s no doubt
I’m lost and confused; my soul wants out…
So I just decided to post all the three poems on my blog. But as i am typing here; I can sense the birth of yet another response to his (above written)poem…here it goes..
Why live in the memories of that storm?
That was a reality once…but now its gone…
And why depend on a gentle calm?
And why not make your wounds, your balm?
Sleep- if dreams are where you belong…
Sleep – if that fake world makes you strong!
Don’t be lost, because they won’t find you
Don’t think much because those thoughts might blind you…
Love’s not tyrant; lovers are;
My heart’s a proof – with its shining scars.
Also published in Broowaha
The following is an article by a talented writer, David Cain, on his website Raptitude. Enjoy.
A recurring question I get from readers is, “How do you deal with negative people?” I’ve never directly written about it because I’m not always sure whether they’re asking how *I* deal with negative people, or how one ought to deal with negative people. I can only tell you how I do it. There are actually two ways I deal with negative people.
― Natsuki Takaya
The tongue can set a fire no man can extinguish. The venomous stings it inflicts can break apart even the best friendships. Life and death are in the power of the words we speak. We’d do well to remember that when we blithely spout off the latest rumors, the latest dirt, about the ones we love. Don’t repeat the gossip, don’t listen to the gossip. Shhhhh…..
I bear wounds that seem to never heal, a constant pain that surrounds all my reality. Where will I go from it? What will I do with it? Pain is my fuel that stokes the fires of excellence and success. Without it, I’m powerless before pleasure, seduced to be complacent. I bear the marks of life’s whips in a uniquely exquisite pattern. So beautiful are their ragged trails that spell my name – “Survivor”. To excel I must accept my pain. When I fight it, or hide from it, it kills me. When I accept it, it empowers me. Mourn your pain, then brush yourself off, take it by the ear and demand from it success, knowing that unless you experience the depths of pain, you’ll not know the heights of joy.
The wound, hidden, bled through his clothes