Category Archives: paradigm shift

Thrown away the key

Image result for fantasy art

On the edge of atrophy,

rampant revolution with the sea breeze,

brewing in the air,

the mist, beware.

We no longer have a care,

for the now frozen lakes far off in another galaxy,

the little people are free

weeds surround the beautiful sweet flowers that breathe,

life into the ether as between the lines we read,

grow, uproot, resist, feed,

through perpetual death and rebirth on the shores of grand rising we bleed,

transformative, awakening from the haze,

fires blaze,

as seasons change

earthy, watery an elemental stage,

passage through the malaise,

wounds cut open and the memories fade,

escape,

it’s too late and we can no longer wait,

sitting ducks and enslaved,

You may have thrown away the key,

but this you did not foresee.

Faatima

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The heart centre

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Memories swiped,

An amnesia that hides,

buried in the worlds within worlds,

but as the veils grew thin these realms unfurled,

fragments and shards spinning vortexes whirl,

as forgetfulness and slumber became impossible to maintain,

reality looks at us right in the face,

there was no place to run and no place to escape,

back to centre stage,

medium, a calm place,

knowing beyond knowing these verses became congruent,

lines in my mind’s eye which is observant and fluent,

well read in these arts,

but now integrate and start,

to do the real work all we ask is if you do dare to stare

into the abyss beneath these muddied layers,

handle with compassion and a slow and steady care,

tricky at first,

as illusions tumble and bubbles burst,

you’ll master it once you come out the hurt,

practice and patience,

surrendered without waiting,

aeons of tales weaved in the webs of times past,

blunders direct us to blind spots if we last,

and bloom from seedlings to flowers,

for they left us wide open in a place where souls get devoured,

projections and stories unseen and unheard,

yet felt all the same through the onslaught of words,

to those few that know,

empathic warrior souls,

we either take it on and dwindle to their whims

or the other choice is to light up and be still

returning us back, back to what is within.

Faatima

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Core

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Art speaks to me,

Colours bring to life what’s beyond the grey sea,

as tides rush in with the breeze,

on the shore of a land troubled and torn,

so as the pendulum swings,

like an anagram for what’s within,

we build up our tanks with fuel,

creating a crown of jewels,

coloured in various shades and hues,

ranging from royal purple to blue,

but don’t get confused,

beyond the lies and abuse,

hatred infused,

it must be said,

that we may now be ten steps ahead

but getting to the core,

this place so adored,

was nothing short of a war,

Faatima

 

Breathing fire

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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

 

 

 

Shade

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Lost somewhere in translation,

crowds absorb any meaning and kill patience,

worse than most,

a subjective stance brought on by the host,

a predatory conscience,

talking nothing but nonsense,

till lines are drawn,

between each and every source,

till it no longer matters,

the mind’s chit-chatter,

observed through a lense unaffected by shame,

although in this game they have infiltrated our mind-frame,

the key will open this door,

and the snake eats its tail no more,

Faatima

 

A paradigm shift

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When the clouds covered the sun,

we thought that all the fun was gone,

as the day took a turn,

the illusions that had become,

patterns in the blurry light to hide reality dissolved so that we are one,

with the shadow from which we once did run,

masses of birds seem to have been unleashed,

towards the ocean they flew, from their cages they were released,

varying degrees of these creatures were seen.

the deceased, aspects and old ideas that cease,

to find their place in a world of greed,

where we are constantly deceived,

where so many do not achieve,

unless we are compelled to leave,

every limited belief,

move into a place where we can breathe,

fully without having to grieve

for these ideas that were merely conceived,

still just a seed,

not crystallised into form,

weathered by these storms,

as subconsciously we absorb,

the rain that is now starting to pour.

the opening of new doors,

washing away of old paradigms that serve us no more.

Faatima

 

The real world,

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In the quote ‘real world,’

in order to make things work,

these words have me bored,

floored,

rest assured,

they will be ignored.

they preach how things never really work out quite like that,

there are things to take into account, concepts to grasp,

The fork in the road, a reminder to drop the unnecessary load,

all these ideas

these sub-conscious fears,

they marry well together in stifling you from this end goal,

the reason that you struggle so much in the pursuit of becoming whole.

Embodying a vision,

no matter how small the mission,

it takes a dropping of old beliefs,

to have a sense of direction will be a relief,

but not too rigid, remember to float till you eventually reach,

that place where time no longer sleeps,

the wheel turns, it does not make a sound

it has come full circle, now,

round.

Inspiration offered up everywhere,

not so much an original idea but the fires we all share,

of momentum and enthusiasm,

is in the end the root of our unique expression,

a tool

or merely just a lesson,

a step in the dance of progression,

to apply on to our particular course,

without pause

nor a gap between thoughts

doubts to be released

and so we are free’d,

it seems through the battles fought,

we eventually saw,

how its now time to give back

as the ripple effect is a direct result of just that.

Faatima