A shot of blur

Blur, I might but you’d still see.

Not with the eyes but the one’s within;

Trick, I try but you’d still feel—

How magical the heart that beats art for a living.

Slow down, you can, and trust it will be.

The dawn will welcome you before the sun shines brightly.

Believe, you should, no matter how blurry.

See, if everything is clear, how boring would that be?

A time for art, a time for poetry. I believe that today, more than ever, is the best time to create. To do something magical as you tap into your truth. To make something out of nothing—or that one that sparked inspiration from within. Yes that’s it, that’s the seed you need. A seed to plant that will grow over the years. And who knows, maybe, trees will multiply and duplicate until it becomes a forest 🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳 a forest of your authenticity, a forest of your own unique art.

Most of the time, I don’t understand everything. And boy, this mind loves to question and know all it can dive deep. But as i capture this motion blur, i learned that it’s okay if it’s blurry. That I’m fine even though I’m not on point. And that it’s okay to not know. That figuring things out and analyzing every inch of details might only give me stress and wrinkles and maybe some disease. And no, I don’t want that. And being okay with a blur gave birth to this short but meaningful poem. Hope you like it ♥️ and if you don’t, well that’s okay as well 😁

What is there to fear?

Why, I ask myself,

do the stars make me dream more?

when the origins of it we couldn’t fully understand?

Why, I ask myself,

does the rainbow thrill my soul?

when the rain puts you in the lowest of low?

Call me blind, call me crazy,

You may even call me a nobody.

But oh, forgive me, for i couldn’t forsake this heart that beats—

For art, for words, for colors, for lit.

Notwithstanding the lack of wit,

If it’s love you adhere, what is there to fear?

****************

Author’s note: Have faith, love hard, write more. ♥️

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

When the sad girl writes..

“She likes the calming sound of the nib against the flawless surface of the sheet.

She likes it because somehow, through this, she’s at an interim peace.

Letting it all out as her words make love to each other to form an offspring—words that came from the innermost cuts of pain; and of profound sorrow and unknown faces of fear.

She’s sad, always has been.

A sad girl who writes effortlessly, because words naturally come out, stuffed with sincerity.

She’s not happy—a fact she’s not afraid to admit.. but when the sad girl writes, everybody nods and acquiesces.. that it’s a masterpiece.”

*****

Disclaimer: I’m not the sad girl I’m talking about in this piece. Lol 😝 just trying to be poetic here.. ♥️

An Unfakable Soul

If I talk about my heart, will you listen?

If I show you the real me, will you embrace it?

I’m no typical woman, do you know?

I’m more than the real meaning of flawed,

A girl who cut herself with a sword—full of bruises and unhealable wounds.

Destroyed by her past, wrecked by the noise.

I will not ask you to fix me, nor to secure.

I just need someone with an unfakable soul.

Now tell me…

Are you giving me your all?

Or is this nothing but an all-show?

#fiction

(Photos taken at Bondi Beach, Sydney Australia 🇦🇺)

She’s an old love letter

She’s an old love letter…

The one that speaks of truth and emotions.

The kind to be kept like a hidden treasure,

with an extraordinary power that lies beneath its words.

She’s that letter that has folded herself to fit into this world.

Didn’t want to cause trouble,

she just wants to belong.

She’s a love letter of bizarre colors,

with an abyss of depth that makes her invincible.

Her words will lure you into something wonderful.

The one you would want to read about more and more.

She’s an old love letter that has aged too well,

Yet too fragile and too weak, her words sometimes a blur

But she’s still a love letter that apparently speaks of love—no matter how torn, no matter how old.

************************************************

(That’s me at the ferry staring at the Opera House here in Sydney ♥️)

Waiting in vain

Scared, i told you I was scared.

Guess you didn’t care,

You drove even faster,

And then slower—then you stopped.

In this snow-filled endless path.

Shivering, i told you I was shivering.

But you didn’t listen.

Deep sigh released, seatbelt unfastened.

You opened the door, then you said something;

“Leave”, you asked me to leave.

I was stunned, now what should I believe?

A promise—you promised you would stay,

“I will be with you no matter what”, all those years you say.

Why then are you leaving me this way?

I was angry and I still am—everyday.

Each time it snows, I remember that day.

The day you left me alone, now I’m full of disdain.

Though deep in my heart, I still hope and pray.

Wishing you would come back to me again.

But I’m scared… baby, I’m scared again.

What if I’m only waiting in vain?

*********************************************************************

A million thanks to my dear friend, Lloyd who captured this exceptionally beautiful photograph above that he took in his hometown in West Virginia (if I’m not mistaken) several hours ago. I had to borrow it from him ’cause just by merely staring at it, ideas within me are provoked to burst out effortlessly. Click the link below (or his name above) should you want to witness incredible form of art and photography. See it for yourself. 🙂

WELCOME TO LLOYD’S LENS PHOTOGRAPHY