Tag Archives: inspiration

The heart centre

Image result for heart art

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

XX

 

 

 

Forest through the trees

Image result for Enchanted Forest Art

Schism, the devourment,

Clarity of mind beyond the firmament,

the edge of existing,

beyond resisting

struck between two places,

a world found between spaces,

another plane of being,

way of seeing,

somehow freeing,

confines release,

as we retrieve,

fact from fiction,

storybook tales allegorical, in relation,

to these codes unlocked,

practiced daily as sure as the clock,

ticks so we can perceive,

the forest through the trees.

Faatima

Xx

 

 

 

A better future

Leaving trails,

little pearls of love to unveil,

droplets as we exhale,

with the in breath and out,

as within as without

any time thought patterns intrude,

recognise the feedback loop,

lies we’ve been fed,

waking lives, just like the undead,

do not try to numb,

but still do not succumb,

bear witness, let go,

by watching the ebb and the flow,

all along just know,

that it is only a tool to show,

how little time is left,

so we can become adept,

consciously manifest,

something better,

my kind of trend-setter.

Love,

Faatima

X

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.

Faatima

 

 

 

Do as you please,

Image result for realm of fantasy

It is burning me,

how these days I just cannot seem pen down and weave,

fairy-tales and stories,

from a web so tangled and paper creased,

call it brain freeze,

temporarily blocked I cannot receive,

inspired reason to vent and release,

energy in motion flowing like rivers run deep,

under skin, we grieve,

I watch on as lost bodies retreat,

back in to their seats,

unable to believe,

that we can always choose to break free and just do as we fucking please.

Faatima

 

Core

Image result for purple and blue art

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

 

Too complex

It is too complex,

How genetic tapestry weaves it’s web,

Sowing the seeds for the flower bed,

or are they roses made of thorns?

prickling the thin papery skin of every individual born,

raised in castles built and guarded by swords,

metaphorically speaking of course,

the power of words,

So as we enter the tempest,

and fall face first into crevices,

Swept under the rug of the naked eye,

hooded and blind,

Still we rise,

Whether the pitfalls have been recognised,

is not a promise we may well have been compromised,

thrown to the wolves and left out in the cold to die,

I can only say so much and that is why,

in this storyline anything can pass us by,

Faatima