Preachings of my father taught me how the world worked But as I grew up I learned his thoughts were misgiven. It makes me wonder Do I make up as the man he thought I would.
Winds of the future carved me to the soul I am today. The road I took in the morning, Was never meant to be left alone.
All the choices I made lead me to the stairway of individuality and belongingness.
I wonder, all the dreams that I had as a child, Never really saw me coming.
I just wanted to be different than the rest and never intended to waive goodbyes to the ones I hold dear. I needed sometime to be alone just to make up my mind pondering weather the choices matter.
My shadow never followed trails of someone who didn't believed in love. My wisdom came from the journey and untrodden path I walked from the start.So if nevertheless I fall for the darkness in my heart for making my ends meet, let me be..
I see the light in you As you try to confront all the darkness within you I want to hold your hand and calm your soul Sharing all the pain you feel. I know I can't take it all away But even a little less makes you smile so bright, That leaving you alone Only breaks my core. I can stay forever by your side Never wanting to stay goodbye..
MEMORABLE ME by Carolyn Glackin We've all but a short time Here, on this Earth Our days, preordained From the moment of birth Perhaps we spread joy While in service to others Many folks become fathers While others become mothers Some people are heroes Always saving the day Some people heal hearts Through the words that they say Some make poor choices That affect them for life Too blind to the truth Too caught up in strife Some learn huge lessons Becoming wise and enlightened Finally free from false notions They're no longer frightened We all make our mark here Through the lives that we lead So always choose wisely In action and deed So you'll be well regarded Respected and treasured In the years yet to come From now 'til forever And after all that I've said Of the things people do I'll wrap this piece up With a question for you In what way do you wish To be known in our hearts Beyond the day that your soul Transcends and departs? Copyright Carolyn Glackin 7/16/2020
Image credit: "Choices," by Steve Fisher. Available through Fine Art America.
A wallflower even before I discovered the word, I don't like reflecting on my ten year old self. I vaguely remember there aren't any warm memories, no memories at all I perceive. But I vividly recall my mother, and her wisdom that helped me, and now I wish to help you.
It was summertime, prior to the vacations. One hot day, when I reached home, I placed my head delicately on her lap, she caressed my hair, I cherished her love and sobbed. She knew, my fragile self must've been hurt externally or internally.
"Boys from the bus said they'd dig the deepest hole and bury me in," I told her, tears wetting my cheeks. Immediately, she seated me upright and looked angrily, I wondered why. "How long am I supposed to stand up for you, you're big now, tell them yourself and stop sobbing to me about petty things," she said, uttering the coldest words from her mouth. Crying stopped and I stared at her silently and sadly and walked away.
A few weeks passed, without any weeping. Until a day when she asked me where my water bottle was and I stood guilty and mum. She inquired more vigorously. I broke down. "They...threw...it...away," I said, "I told them not to do so and it's bad and that I'm not afraid." Then she spotted the bruise on my neck. Disrobing me, she saw many more of them. She had teary eyes too now.
In a worried tone, apologising, she began, "listen, son, I told you to stand up for yourself, which you did and I'm proud of you. But there's more to it." Wiping off my tears, grinning, she continued, "When you think you've toiled enough and everything's still a mess, ask for help. Being helped by someone doesn't make you weak. Relying solely on their help does. Everyone isn't the mighty sun that can drive all the darkness away alone. You see, even the moon needs the stars to help light up the night sky. Don't hesitate from reaching out to people when you desperately need them. It's okay to be the moon. I want you to be the moon, son." Silence filled us for a few moments. I did not say a word. I was speechless but happily, because of the knowledge I gained.
My father complained to the school authorities and had those miscreants fixed. I never saw or heard them again.
I don't necessarily know if the implementation of it has helped me live better but it definitely has comforted me to know that being the moon can also be the right thing to do.
And. That. Matters. To. Know. What. Is. Right. Matters.
Fraternities are not ornaments of a weakling. Everyone requires emotional or physical support at some point in life, and it's the finest thing to ask for some of it.
When the dark is too thick for a lantern to drive away, it's better to light up two. In no way is it demeaning to be the moon chaperoned by the stars.
The cliché of trying until you succeed is incomplete, let me help you here; try until you succeed and when you've tried sufficiently, try differently.
If Being The Sun Is Too Exhausting take Pride In Being The Moon
A smirk lay on the faces of those who nurtured me. Lonliness is something I'm bound to inherit. My cries are shunned in name of greed. Hands stiff and glued to the fragmented words. Joy is a catastrophe I can't seem to proclaim. I breath the flares of agony dismissing dried ashes of failure in it. Unnoticed of the relic tissues of mine people ask me about the roots. They gush about the soil deemed from a barren land. I try not to shrink in my own skin where hindered flesh dwell on dirge. Halo of a few rays can't gulp a black hole. My sorrows aren't too opaque but they snatch and ignite fire within me. I'm too helpless to knock on pleading doors when my invite is abandoned by my own being. Drips of escape on scratched paper leave out cuts and cracks for devil to enter. Depression isn't a void anymore, it's a regime which l feel too often in me. These words of mine aren't poetry in disgue. A reach for something beyond, a song for mournful nights, a place with no questions, a remedy without obligations, a plead unnoticed of normalcy, a piece written in no anguish. I write this very piece without intentions of faith to fall. My heart keeps pounding for escape when l know there ain't one. It keeps scribbling some lines only to be greeted by aghast.
P. S.:- I apologize for being to mundane about my mental instability or mental health. But, l'm in much more pain then routine and I felt to vent it out in form of poetry. I hope y'all are okay. Please stay home and stay safe.