realities with the ability to fly are called suspended dreams and when they are untethered skies shall be lit by magical mirages
broken, slightly
the life between two breathsthe breath between two thoughtsthe thought between two promisesthe promise between two heartsthe heart...broken...a slightly broken heart The poems I am particularly pleased with are those where I have used two outwardly unconnected concepts and merged them. This poem was inspired by the meditation course I attended over the weekend and … Continue reading broken, slightly
An Effortless Poem
aren’t we all simply~ sleeping for dreaming~ for waking for living~ for moment for lifetimes~ forever dying? We all certainly are forever dying Many die well before death Few do not die even in death We don’t always dream when we are sleeping Just as we do not always live when we are awake…. “A … Continue reading An Effortless Poem
lovers and haters
don't judge love by the lovers nor determine hate from the haters fervor is fickle, flighty few pass tests of integrity
Impressions of God
Remnants of the old temple Long ago I frequented Now dilapidated A dignified ruin Decrepit, faded flag Bravely yet barely flapping Jilted by the pigeons Echoes of fluttering, cooing In the haunting halls Even the gods are forlorn Their pleas drowned By the smoke and honking Hawkers' hoarse persuasions Baskets filled with rotting fruit Where once … Continue reading Impressions of God
We will all die
I decided to do something different (and perhaps unexpected) because Snoopy expresses it way better than I could through poetry. Death is compulsory Living is optional Enjoy this day Enjoy the next Enjoy living :)
high noon
shadows smirk as you seek them while they hide in the moment of high noon
in the dead of night
Such a beautiful breeze in the deep darkness in the dead of night God's sweet breath Soft exhalations as He sleeps satisfied in knowing that I have the ability to take care of myself
exit wound
a stab in the back leaves no exit wound, and though the emperor was aware of the answer even so he asked et tu, brute?
of survival, possessions and purpose
a soul is stained, muted by its instinct to survive chained to what you believe you are and to what you presume to possess which of your belongings will you take with you? indeed, what have you come with that you can ever give away? even as charity? seems to me that nothing can truly be owned, only transferred … Continue reading of survival, possessions and purpose
SONYA KASSAM 