Category Archives: autumn

Breathing fire

Image result for breathing fire

Damage control,

trying to make this crescent moon whole.

waxing as days bleed,

into one another devouring hours with greed,

a seed amongst weeds,

the same new day,

yet an imminent change,

in between the black and white there is a grey

sprinkled amongst the subtleties that we waste,

so set me a standard to attain now,

do not bother asking why and how,

and when I do I shall take a bow,

Faatima

 

 

 

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The hall of mirrors

Image result for mirrors room

In the hall of mirrors,

you’ll find them playing rock, paper, scissors..

till each reflection is revealed,

true colours that were concealed,

splashed against glass by the sunshine

a trick of the light

they came tumbling down,

when the image had been found,

to be like nothing more than the sound,

of an instrument in a band,

playing a melody to direct the stories painted by words written by hand,

not the story in and of itself,

which bridged the gap between heaven and hell.

an artist’s way to ring a bell,

alerting the populous without the desire to sell,

Like metaphors they tell it well,

Faatima

 

Life hack

Image result for dreams

Would it really be so bad?

If I’m honest I’ll be glad,

for tables to turn,

but eventually we earn,

an unexpected burn,

surprise, we learnt,

not to grasp,

with nails that dig and clasp,

beyond the chaotic lack of coordination there is a cue,

clicking into motion the desire to move,

jam to a new groove,

something different to do,

few people choose,

really choose what this is,

without delusion, taking the hint,

emancipated from all the lows and highs,

as they arrive,

it flashed right before our eyes,

learning how to survive,

a crossing off,

some kind of a loss,

washed off by the raindrops,

terminated and floored,

this mission we abort,

back-track,

just a little life hack,

as the month comes to a close,

we are finally woke,

imminent, we were provoked.

Faatima

Preservation

Instinct reigns in,

as moments keep passing,

the ships fly mile-high,

up in the sky,

reaching places,

these races,

a mass of faces,

there is no stasis,

in the zone,

with something to resist and something to condone,

as we roam,

objectives rendering us alone,

in the circus show

to and fro,

empty spaces between us hollow.

Swayed by the winds of change that blow,

so that preservation is futile, the seeds have already been sown,

and grown,

the first one to cast the stone,

will reap the fruits of the harvest that is to come,

the  orange and red season

we have all but anticipated,

with bated breath,

when wheat becomes bread,

we have already made our beds,

to lie in,

as the veils are thinning,

and the glasses are over brimming,

no turning back these miles,

have been walked and all the while,

the truth remains that preservation is futile,

Faatima

 

Discovery

Image result for stars

Some things are fated,

undebated,

the trick is,

not to think,

and before you have the chance to blink,

red softens into pink,

we make a link,

and take a drink,

from the fountain of what it means to exist,

what it means to not sink,

under the pressure,

of the waves that cover,

each and every endeavour,

because reason is stronger..

and there is still more to discover.

Faatima

All the way into the dark night

Image result for dark night of the soul

Do not turn back at half past midnight,

do not succumb to the horror and fright,

go all the way, follow this field of sight,

I can only describe,

it with these few adjectives but you’ll find,

justice is not served to something this divine,

what is realised is a shattering of these crimes,

the blind-side of getting by just fine,

the burn of getting to the earth’s core,

is melted away fast when we do reach the source,

there is no chance for you to sit on the floor,

wallowing in the fires that were brought forth,

nor is there time to climb the high horse,

to escape from the shores of a mind war-torn,

which stays firmly once it’s been born,

in the mythical pages of folklore,

till it is washed away in the pages of time,

scratching at the surface will not erase these fine-lines,

they draw patterns to ignite a beam of light,

a trail through the mist and murkiness of the dark night..

it will end soon,

but the only way out is through,

the dark night of the soul devoured us whole,

it was a brave step to follow,

at dawn we arose, with nothing but this poetry, this prose.

the world of a writer,

intuitively inspired,

by the ethers and something untapped,

creativity inspired by all the mishaps..

and that is why we must embrace the shadow,

so that growth is finally allowed,

in uninhabited places, once undiscovered now found.

Faatima

 

Pay attention…

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You may have heard it before

..but allow me to say it once more.

Energy flows where attention goes.

The strange truth is that resisting it will also do this…

So I say allow it, accept it, examine it…

…and watch it exit.

We are now in the throes of autumn…

Leaves falling, shades of orange, time for some fun…

…transitioning naturally in to a new season…

Gentle winds of change blow…

Cleansing the air, foggy, blurry, be the sun amongst the darkness, let yourself glow…

…by going with the flow…

Being at peace even when the universe seems to always say no…

A blissful awareness…

….transcending all darkness…

Colder days are coming, nature’s own show…

…a truly beautiful display of how lovely it really is to let dead things go.

Faatima

Xx