Category Archives: creative

Through the hall of mirrors

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Caught in a spin cycle,

Burning gold bursts out upon our arrival,

we begin again,

as time weaves these stories, embedded and endured,

we can never be quite sure,

Pulled by the tides,

an amnesia that hides,

to us it will never confide.

that this fortress was built upon lies,

shush, please just shut your eyes,

the demise of reality, we are made blind,

night time falls and we are numbed out, okay, getting by, fine,

but just remember that a place to forget and hide,

is a place where misplaced projections reside,

these processes mechanical, like mind numbing opiates and we override,

senses, what is inside.

You will soon find,

if you have the eyes to see,

coupled with a natural curiosity

that forgetting is easy,

it’s the breaking out that require a will to carve our own way,

no matter what they throw in our face,

This game we must refuse to play,

do not feed into it and become prey,

thought and emotion are worth more than gold

choice to blaze through any false promises sold,

the future looks bright,

when you are at one and can through the darkness of the night,

find even one reason to fight,




Image result for circle art

Drew my circle above and around me,

Testing all that tries to plant a seed,

maybe of doubt,

to just let go and allow,

In all truth I dont want any more,

everything that once was has dissolved on the shores,

melted into the sand, the waters have washed away and worn

I can now see the cycles of time and folklore,

We have waded through the nettles,

the process begins with the base metal

once the dust has finally settled,

out of time and out of place,

clocks ticking, no more attempts at trying to save face.

Going at pace,

exiting out of their rat race,

In this shadow world,

We observe,

Go back within to retrieve all that was lost,

reclaimed what is ours and pay the cost,

for apathy and denial, beyond each and every trial,

sugar coated and adorned,

still a new moment is born,

from ashes we rise forth,

we are the roses that bloomed yet are protected by thorns,









The only way out

Image result for magic

Finding magick in the mundane,

Leaving a trail,

Depression, grey skies, rain,

on grassy terrains,

painting pictures,

art, inspired by features,

subtle little details,

Woven through moments we entail,

When even words fail,

thoughts escape us,

lust for life, feelings and climbing up,

the ladder to what’s above,

hidden in plain view,

within the red and blue,

poles, the burning heat and icy dew,

So we learnt and grew,

I guess it’s really true

the only way out is through,




No more colours

Just like an empty Sunday,

We wish away,

The barren moments taking form and shape,

Playing tricks in the light, painting a maze,

a blurry haze,

In between new ideas,

There lie dormant fears,

Colours seep,

From view and we are knee deep,

Wading through layers,

Finding our own way out,

So don’t tell me to smile,

Hold back or live in denial

Till I am ready, and have walked this mile.

Till every stain has been washed away,

and nothing remains.





Inner child

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Hey little child,

Everything your little heart desired,

was meant to be yours,

tapping into subtle details and walking through doors,

the cold breeze we ignored,

trying to keep warm,

when the sky hit the floor,

and when they fled from their stores,

simply selling objects became a bore,

what for?

chaos made us crave more,

engaging without remorse,

as we board upon our horse,

heading north,

and without much force,

left it all behind,

but as the clock chimes,

it catches up the tide of time,

sure as light blends into the dark night,

eyes drag south, shutting, we are blind,

sleeping you’ll find,


I guess tomorrow the sun will shine,


Slipping by

The majority of the time it’s the case of a means to an end,

Yet seconds slip through our fingers not unlike quicksand,

it seems in this paradoxical trend,

that abounds as we turn every bend,

in this maze with a conflict of interests,

at the core, making timing irrelevant,

the moment is always present,

so make time to cultivate these skills,

time being a construct we decide how to fill

or else someone else will,

and that is the only promise,

in a place where they are meaningless and un profound,

where words create circles for us to go round and round,

without taking the steps,

needed to progress.





Image result for stars

Some things are fated,


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.