Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Tricks & Treat

Trick = One day, we disappear.
People everywhere. Loved ones, family and friends, acquaintances, neighbours, strangers.
Treat = Happiness. Love. Contentment. 
Laughter, community, traditions and simple rituals. Insider jokes, memories. Secrets.
The treat, easily becoming a simple trick. Might as well be a dream, lost in the yesteryears at the cornerstones of our brains.
And life continues the trick or treating of one another.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Scrambled Eggs on Toast

Some butter on a warm slice of toast, mixed with a generous slap of marmite. 
Perfect start to a lazy weekend, more than anyone can ask for. 
Scrambled eggs, on wheat bread. 
Dreams of future tomorrows, baking extravagant goodies, pastries, bread and cake. I can almost smell it. 
A quick mental break from the darkness, behind the thin veil of reality.
At the back of my mind, always, we are reminded that death is lurking. A stark reminder of everything we hold true in this world to be so fragile.
A beautiful lie.
So, I make the most out of my scrambled eggs on toast with marmite, a comfortable familiarity of the every day before me and yesteryears, preparing for the inevitable tomorrows.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Sermon Of The Crows

The soothing cacophony of crows can be a rare insight in to something deep. I'm not sure exactly what that is right this moment. But I know it is.
I find the thought to be soothing.
Crows conjure up memories of garbage cans and left over food. It also reminds me of YouTube videos on the "Secret life of crows." Google it. You'll see.
Crows share food. They call upon each other when they spot anything to eat. They also pass down memory and secrets to their offspring. So, generations of crows can learn from their elders. Knowledge for posterity. Very human like.
Misunderstood creatures of darkness, these peculiar creatures, they have so much character.

Most humans misunderstand, our nature is to fear all things black. Crows. Cats. Darkness. It's a pity, because I am in awe of these wild feathery, shiny beaded creatures that are so adaptable to their environmental conditions. Such clever beings.
Next time, listen to their sermons. Who knows what you'll learn. 
Don't be wary of crows, because they are signs of life.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Eyelash

At times, it hurts.
As tears pour down your cheek
Stubbornly irritating the eye
scratching the eyeball an angry red

Sometimes, it is a wish
Gently laid on a wrist
Blown away
with whispers of hope

At times, it is beauty.
Loning for shiny black curls
At times, peace and calm
As you pray to the universe

At times, signs of aging.
Turning grey, then silvery
As the years become numbered
And they have been a witness

They are the glue.
Holding the eyes tightly shut
The eternal rest
When they close one last time

A million memories turn to dust
Having softened the tears
Over the years
As they fell