MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “poem”

This too shall pass

flowing riverThere is a story that an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: “And this, too, shall pass away“. It manages to express a lot – caution in the hour of pride and console in times of pain.

Our times are more in need of this phrase than ever. Because everything can change in a second. Joy and sadness alternate like a spinning wheel and – with everything at our feet – it is easy to get carried away, to exhilarate or to despair.

We might have been convinced that good things don’t last long so we should relish every moment we have. But the truth is, the really good things only last as long as you put in the effort for them to, as long as you keep trying and keep holding on to them.

Whatever it is, this too shall pass. So will we. There is thus no use in being miserable; instead, we should look to make the best out of every situation.  After all, what’s the point of being here if you don’t at least try to do something remarkable and above all be happy?

 

When things are bad, remember:

It won’t always be this way.

Take one day at a time.

When things are good, remember:

It wont’ always be this way.

Enjoy every great moment.

Advertisements

That dot in the ceiling

https://www.exopermaculture.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/painted-spiral.jpgHear me,
When I don’t say a word.

Listen to me,
When I scream in my silences.

Look at me,
even when I turn away.

Watch me,
When I say I don’t need your attention.

Console me,
When I walk away crying.

Hold me,
Even when I push you off.

Hug me,
Even when I say I don’t want you near.

Read between my lines.

Understand what I don’t say.

Feel me even when I say nothing to you.

My mind is a dangerous and chaotic place.
But you may learn to comprehend it if you try.

Just stop staring at that dot in the ceiling,

Realise that I can’t stop and do nothing.

It drives energetic people crazy – apathy.

Come run away with me.

 

That thing you really need

http://www.womeninthebible.net/hands.jpg

It’s the thing you read in books
The storyline you see in movies
The lyrics you hear in songs.

It’s what you keep waiting for,
Hoping it will happen to you,
Anticipating, but trying not to expect it.

It’s what you tell yourself you can live without,
That you can survive on your own,
That it’s not something you need.

But when it arrives, it changes you.
You wonder how you managed to live short of it,
And you remember nothing before it.

The love of a friend is priceless.
Because if fills your heart and soul
With what you long for the most:
Companionship and support.
Knowing someone will always be there no matter what.
Without judgement.
Without criticism.
Only love.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Friend

The story of a bad elf

http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/christmas-elf-laying-edge-26851791.jpg

In a cold snowy hill, there lived an elf

Who was completely and always enwrapped in himself.

People around him called him a Grinch

For all he only wanted was to be filthy rich.

He was stubborn and bad-tempered,

Never smiled or remembered

Any of the good that people had done in the past,

Because for him nothing ever was meant to last.

Life had left him bitter and sour,

He had felt pain by the hour,

Now cared less with every year

And was hoping that money would instead bring him cheer.

But this season he learnt a lesson

That would be hard to forget.

For in his possession

Came a small statuette.

It resembled his first love

A girl as young as dawn,

The one who broke his heart

And bade him begone.

As he saw it, a tear ran down his cheek

And became ice as it fell

Then another followed in his freak,

As though he had toppled a well.

He began to understand,

That money was not the goal.

It would not bring him happiness,

Or the love of the other half of his soul.

So he radically changed it all,

Made the neighbors doubt their eyes,

For what they saw was a man changed

As though he had suddenly won a lottery prize.

And then, as the little things made the difference,

She appeared like a light in the distance,

Unexpectedly she arrived in the night,

Falling onto him, like a radiant light.

So, the Grinch became a happy elf,

Realizing that we are all worth more than we believe ourselves,

That what we seek cannot be found with might,

But only if we search deep in our hearts and broaden our sight.

Broken people

https://leighchristian.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/brokenpieces.jpg

We are all broken. In some form or other.

We feel the need to believe in something ideal, in dreams, in positive thoughts.

But soon there comes a time when it all dawns on you.

There is no ideal.

There is no perfect.

And often nothing is at all like you hope it would be.

There is no prince on a white horse.

Nor is there a model-figure princess.

There is no magic to solve it all.

There is no clear reason for everything that happens.

Life is not as easy or as simplified as that.

We end up sharing out pieces of each other every time we open up to one another.

But whenever relationships end badly, those pieces are also lost.

And we are left broken.

Trying to continue life with the knowledge that we may never get what we want.

But despite being broken, we still fight to survive.

Because in the end, that is all we have.

Writing in your sleep

sleep writing light bulb

The best time to write

Is in your sleep.

When you’re thinking of nothing

And everything all at once.

When you live in your dreams,

When you see, feel and taste

All that it is you wish.

When you let your heart open,

To desire,

To temptation,

To experience.

When you are not chained by predispositions,

And what should and ought to be done.

When you sense everything so deeply,

That you laugh and cry in your sleep.

When you fear nothing and everything,

But anyway continue the dream.

When you can be anyone and anything you want,

Without fear,

Without reservations,

Without regrets.

Because the best time to write

Is when you feel free.

Feed yourself with the world around you

window ocean view

Feed your life with the enjoyment of doing something you love,
That relaxes you,
That fills your heart with passion.

Feed your mind with thoughts that lift you up,
That causes a smile to form on your face,
That challenges you to dream beyond the borders of space.

Feed your eyes with the beauty that encircles you,
That triggers you to gleam with joy,
That makes you marvel with the world we live in.

Feed your soul with the enchantment that is today.
Don’t let it perish in negativity and grey.
Lift your spirits and you will rise,
To be the very person you wish to be.

The said, the unsaid and the afterthoughts

unsaid thoughts

Those things that were said swivel in your head,

Mixing with the things that were left unsaid.

And now the afterthoughts keep you awake,

Wondering what should have, could have, would have been.

And as you lay there thinking, tossing and turning,

Haunted by all those things,

All you can do is replay in your mind the things that were said,

Those that were not,

And the afterthoughts that lie in between.

Getting through

getting-through

We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it
You think with no concern.
But when the time comes
You don’t even know how to react
Not even how to care.

Things change faster than you think
The world is flat no more.
All you can do is run and leap
To survive, to breathe and dream
No matter how you’re sore.

Nothing ever lasts, you find
Cause nothing is for evermore.
You can only hope to not be blind
To avoid falling face flat on the floor.

Emotions change
Love breaks
Hearts ache
Relationships cease.

But getting over something as deep
Is never an easy feat.
So all you can do
Is try to get through
Just to make that cut have a more bearable sting.

The singing nightingale

nightingale

It was as beautiful as the dawn of a new day,
But as fragile as the thinnest twig of a newborn tree.
It sounded as exquisite as the chords of a divine symphony,
But it alone felt the pain hidden behind each note.

The nightingale had a simple appearance
There were no extravagant colours adorning its feathers
Yet inside it enfolded a heart brighter than gold.
It could love as selflessly and unconditionally as no other,
But that, no-one would ever know.

For unrequited love is the most terrible of all.
It never thanks you for the rose you painfully and bloodily gathered,
It never recognizes how you long for their companionship,
It can never acknowledge the actions they never saw you take.

So the nightingale sings.
It sings to soothe its broken heart.
It sings in the night to express its sorrow.
It sings when it can hide in the dark.
It sings in the hope that things will change tomorrow.

Post Navigation