tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55350342012-02-16T09:37:52.945ZwordsA collection of my poems/writing.prachinoreply@blogger.comBlogger821100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-20309357982922855342011-11-18T16:43:00.000Z2011-11-18T16:43:57.320ZPulled out into wakefulness
floating at the edge
of slumber's space.
The memories hang, drift round the heart
accompany the day.
Conflating of sensations and truths.
Emotions betray concocted experiences
Colouring the time without permission
New dreams, happenings, memories, tomorrow
prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-63982467008030112522009-08-23T01:29:00.002+01:002009-08-23T01:36:51.076+01:00Shallow breaths and deep thoughtsFor one aching instantBlur into the timeAnd I am there, quiet and stillBreathing shallow, thinking deepConversations float through my spaceEach one leaving a residual traceHands reach out from hectic livesFingers slip away into the timeAnd I am there, quiet and stillBreathing shallow, thinking deep prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-80655700673413825452007-12-30T01:38:00.000Z2007-12-30T12:21:00.435ZCold winds wrap loose around my heartBut caring hands soon follow with warmth.The answers are questions I fear to askA quiet mind follows the slippery path.There will be one moment to find the truth.One moment to gage the mood.Time slips away into the night,as starlight guides my path to the fightThe struggle ahead is known and long.It begins with a kiss and ends with a song.Moonlight flickers prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-60951923755174264632007-11-26T17:35:00.000Z2007-11-26T17:37:03.802ZHues When I was low I used to think of youAnd life would seem better, a rosier hue.Then day by day I had to learn againThat things change, that you can’t be afraid. Little by little, you closed in on your wishConvinced of it legitimacy, we went to the brinkPropelled by a haze of jealousy and fearDisguised by your happiness, of when I was near. After so much time you prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-29563874549342650992007-09-07T14:35:00.000+01:002007-09-07T14:36:19.669+01:00Unaccustomed lungs gasp for unpolluted airBody weighed down by millennia of tradition. Precious stones glint under artificial lights.Each one reflecting a distorted image.Pampered skin and then her soft brown handsIntricately decorated by a red-brown paste.Bathing herself in the air’s humidityIt’s stifling presence clouding her thoughts.She belongs to neither this world or thatNever quite fittingprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-9546183562728394492007-03-10T21:56:00.001Z2007-03-10T21:56:27.877ZWhen you're teetering on the edge, with concentration you can often regain your balance alone. If someone is there with you, you can reach out to them to steady you. But if you reach out a hand expecting someone to be there, and you are alone, you don't concentrate on balancing by yourself.And you fall.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-28186829649565148162007-01-23T18:22:00.000Z2007-01-23T18:46:04.217ZSometimes you offer yourself up to the world.But it's laughs echo round your heart, all it gives you is it's dirtChasing after a desire that drives you on and on.But it's just a conveyor belt, that everyone else trundles along.Everyone you've loved has always loved someone else even more.So you try in vain to let go, to leave your heart on the floor.You always tell strangers to follow their prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-61931873798090081232006-11-26T23:34:00.001Z2006-11-26T23:34:09.372ZSnip. The clunk of wood on wood. The mechanism groans into action, slow to react after so long unused. However it was built well, the parts still function. Click, click, click - it's locked. The contents have grown too fragile for public view, the world too unreliable to be trusted. So with a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye, it goes into hiding, protected from the world until it is safe to come prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-58930269851413891242006-10-10T12:16:00.000+01:002006-10-11T14:24:46.869+01:00Coming home to a dark and sleeping houseSometimes greeted by a swaying taillock up behind you, keep out the cold tip toe up to your den of technologyWaking up to the voices of strangersShuffling their way around your lifeturn on the radio for someone to talk tolistening to the woe of other livesFinding the will to get out of bedstretch out your body, ready for the dayguess the weather outside prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1159882739660381802006-10-03T14:38:00.000+01:002006-10-03T14:43:30.553+01:00There were times when you thoughtYou were finally comfortable with lifeWith who you are and the way you lookand you no longer had to pretend to be content.Then something flicks a switch insideAnd it’s hard to look your friends in the eyeIn case they see that something has changedAnd they don’t understand the way you workMomentarily all you want in this hectic worldIs for just one of the six prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1141075238559002382006-02-27T21:20:00.000Z2006-02-27T21:58:37.126ZCloserI saw you from afarHeart fell into my stomachAs I flew along the groundCloser and closer to youWith a smile on your faceYou slid towards me tooYour heart and stomach in placeCloser and closer we becameFrom the corner of their worldPeople watched with curious eyesThe meeting of two soulsThat could not help but connectBut when our skin metYou felt something elseInner mind focused on another prachinoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1140705468656051922006-02-23T14:37:00.000Z2006-02-23T14:37:48.666ZA Way ThroughFresh air blows through her hairIn the centre of a whirlwind of timeThe gods have been playing their gameBrushing his words past her earStoring his secrets behind those eyesSo many times she’s tried to findA way through the wordsA door through the timeHis travels have been darkBut he’s kept his spirit safely awayThe gods have been playing their gameTaunting his senses with her prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1110749663729250012005-03-13T21:27:00.000Z2005-03-13T21:34:23.730ZI dreamt of your love and the sorrow it causedWhen you dangled it in front of meLike a kitten with a ball of stringJerking it just out of reachTaunting me with what could have beenWith the chance to step into that otherworldOf happiness and caringI wanted someone to dance with on a quiet Tuesday nightTo look at with my tired eyes and not feel inadequateWho would make me feel good and I could prachinoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1110749078977031722005-03-13T21:24:00.000Z2005-03-13T21:26:17.626ZIt was like focusing on a moving car along a road. Your vision becomes a mass of blurred lines, except for the bit you focus on, that car. In that last year, you had been that car, the thing I could focus on - my reference point.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1108845560027855932005-02-19T20:35:00.000Z2005-03-14T10:09:16.906ZEvents just seem like details in a blurand you collect your tears in a jar for your friends.You're tired of your dreams and of hearing the truthclosing your eyes to a velvet black and opening them to a created reality.Sometimes you can't dig your nails in deep enoughSorrow and solitude come your way, hand in handOffering you their tears to drown in.A familiar but dangerous friendshipprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1106139261967069522005-01-19T13:54:00.000Z2005-01-19T21:27:07.293ZWho am I?
I am just a fleeting thought in your head.
Another entity carrying on their life
So tenuously connected to yours.
I am mind filled with dreams and despairs
Attached to a body that determines your judgement
And mine when I look in the mirror.
I am a shadow in the corner of your eye
Following the sun and its ethereal light
Wanting, yet afraid to succumb.
prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1103714503881947172004-12-22T10:55:00.000Z2004-12-22T11:28:03.446ZShe had, like so many others, spent her life placing her painful memories away into a little box. It was actually quite a pretty box as she imagined it; painted white wood with red and yellows swirls.
Each time a memory was stored away after a while so she could carry on with her life without constantly dwelling on the sadness in it. It allowed her to focus and surround herself with the good prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1100790908521509132004-11-18T15:14:00.000Z2004-11-18T15:15:08.520ZI was so hopeful
For someone to know me
For someone to share their dreams
I let you in, to my strange world
I let myself believe
I let myself go, to you
You humoured me for a while
Then you broke my heart in two
I tolerated and understood
Maybe you did too
But it made no difference
To your disjointed heart and lips.
I kindled a secret fire
And waited for time
To provide the extra fuel
But prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1099243664856108032004-10-31T17:27:00.000Z2004-10-31T17:29:56.996ZFlowers
As the flowers on my desk strained towards the solitary light
I slipped away, further into the shadows
Taking my tears and confusion away from the world,
But not so far so that I couldn’t pretend to still exist,
just to a place where I could be detached in peace
Away from people who could desert me,
When they decided I was no longer worth their trouble.
I left the light on for the prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1098383875329483272004-10-21T19:37:00.000+01:002004-10-21T19:40:26.850+01:00It was all so sudden, so instantly gone.
In one conversation he set himself free.
And the good memories keep flooding back
Bringing with them a new ache for me.
To add to the constant one that sits and stays
Sometimes bringing anger, sometimes tears.
Work holds little of my attention these days
Staring at walls and playing with my hair.
It was all so sudden
When did you change your mind?
The prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1092430222670385902004-08-13T21:50:00.000+01:002004-08-25T17:43:31.700+01:00you made me feel
Alive
And cared for.
Then when you left.
I forgot.
The feeling of warmth.
But soon you returned
And with the touch of a hand
Caressed my hair.
Thankyou.
For coming back.
prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1091392003702016192004-08-01T21:25:00.000+01:002004-08-01T21:27:59.503+01:00Seeing Purple
There’s so much more to all of this, me
But I just can’t tell you.
I lead a double life you see
I’m like the colour purple, both red and blue.
I appear to be more one colour than the other
But you can’t tell of which I have more
Its more complicated you see.
I mix my own colours, swirl then into a blur.
I could never be either red or blue
But people don’t really think about it
prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1087856887641767862004-06-21T23:27:00.000+01:002004-06-21T23:28:07.640+01:00Blinded by warm evening sunshine,
Her vision was filled with reflections and shadows.
She didn't think on yesterday or tommorrow
Or the Beatles song that was playing with its tin sound.
She wondered how many other girls there were out there
Squinting at the evening sun,
watching a green leaf glow in the light,
thoughtfully placed with the pink flowers.
But she wasn't concerned with patterns andprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1086521837371844882004-06-06T12:36:00.000+01:002004-06-06T12:37:17.370+01:00Potting plants in the gentle morning rain.
Calming, wet earth surrounding my senses.
Fresh, cold air through my polluted lungs.
Distant laughter of next door's children.
Earthworms burrow down beneath my fingers.
All around me, I stare at the world through droplets of rain
Slightly distorted.
Slightly happier.....
prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1081260320014454302004-04-06T15:05:00.000+01:002004-04-06T15:11:51.950+01:00The shadows encircling my eyes
cannot be dispersed by the sun.
I allow myself to drown in moonlight,
the notes playing on in the dark.
The sun gives up, letting the hail hurtle down,
softening to rain as if to say sorry.
Gusts of wind blow delicate pink petals
accross my tarmac drive.
Doting, loyal eyes watch me carefully,
her uncomprehending tail swaying in the dulled room.
The music prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1078717386705663452004-03-08T03:43:00.000Z2004-03-08T03:45:19.903ZToday is not the day for dreams or dancing
It is not the day for love or tears.
Tomorrow will not be the day to voice your views.
And it will not be the day to face your fears.
The day to follow your heart
And to smile at strangers
Was yesterday my friend.
Not todayprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1075225639719399802004-01-27T17:47:00.000Z2004-01-27T17:48:52.343ZEvery now and again, i wake up and feel as though i'm joining in the same game as everyone else, but the rules i know are slightly different. I play their game because that's what everyone else seems to know. Secretly I prefer my version, my rules, but no-one else seems to enjoy it as much as i do; I can only play my game alone. They don't want to abandon the game they know,the tricks they've prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1074526531450625052004-01-19T15:35:00.000Z2004-01-19T15:36:56.326ZYour dreams are few and far between
passing in and out of shadows that dim their sheen.
Your swirling knowledge is true but frail
leaving your faith to grasp at its tail.
The wings of your angels are broken and torn
they cannot save you, their legs are worn.
So dust off your smile, cloud this mysterious world,
forget your lost faith and use your fear as gold.
Raise your head, and open your earsprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1073488048725774842004-01-07T15:07:00.000Z2004-01-07T15:08:41.966ZSometimes I picture it like water dripping out of a barrell. No matter how much I turn the tap, it won't stop leaking. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but its always seeping out.
I thought I'd gradually refilled the barrell, fixed the tap...I had. But one unexplainable action, a mistake I suppose, and now the tap is broken again. I know how to fix it but somehow it doesn't seem so easy this timeprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1072108038210896462003-12-22T15:47:00.000Z2003-12-22T15:48:15.140ZThe sky here is so clear at night. Not sure i can describe the beauty of the stars.
My skin is still numb from the cold, creeping inwards from the outside.
I thought i was forgetting how to feel...consoling and sympathising, yet refusing to immerse myself, determined to be detached.
But in the absence of night clouds, i'm left in awe.
I haven't captured, and can't release the words. Paint andprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1069080624315638652003-11-19T12:41:00.000Z2003-11-19T12:41:28.373Zare you someone to make it all go away?
protect me from the cruel harsh world
to wrap me up in your skin.
take me to a place where i can hide
i tried the place where everyone else seems to go
i didn't fit in there
so im finding my own secret place
come with me?prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1068245319361634712003-11-07T22:48:00.000Z2003-11-07T22:48:36.993ZI have nothing to say anymore. I'm empty.
Is there anything to fill?
I need some magic, call up the spirits.
Did you train the light that follows your words?
Or is it a process of diffusion, balancing out the darkness before them.
Does the beat of your step echo in your dreams?
Promise to me lend me your angels.
Do you feel the same as the people you touch?
Don't read my confused eyes.
prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1066232117734027742003-10-15T16:35:00.000+01:002003-10-15T16:40:21.003+01:00On a silent autumn morning in my corner of the world.
A red balloon floated accross the nervous velvet grass.
Under no ones' control but the wind.
A visiting stranger in a beautiful land.
It hung for just a moment, hesitant as to where to go
and then, just like that
it was gone.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1063569097837845292003-09-14T20:51:00.000+01:002003-09-14T20:51:37.890+01:00Playing with Fairies
The moon was large as I had tea with angels.
Playing out conversations I’d made up when I was a girl.
A book was missing from the shelf.
Dust fairies had pushed it out.
The angels and I wandered through clouds of dandelions,
Searching for the missing book.
For our clue we found a trail of buttons.
The gentle laugh of the angels was a beautiful sound.
We followed this trailprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1063567718053494722003-09-14T20:28:00.000+01:002003-09-14T20:28:38.086+01:00Reflections
So enraptured by your reflection. I was content to just have that because if I turned around it might confirm your existence. I would have to accept that you were real and I would no longer have an excuse to say “no”.
prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1063541580403611402003-09-14T13:13:00.000+01:002003-09-14T13:13:00.453+01:00Sometimes I'm just so angry at people and the world, but i have no idea why
and all I can do to make myself better is to break useless things and to let myself cry.
I wonder if any really knows me, and why I automatically hide feelings away
concerned eyes and caring hands ask me what's wrong and I hesitate to say.
I don't want to tell them, I can't be bothered to make them to see
Sometimes I justprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1062612851090868692003-09-03T19:14:00.000+01:002003-09-03T19:16:38.310+01:00I heard an echo from within the dark.
I didn’t see you standing in the shadows,
concealed by coarse brick alleyways.
Could you save me from myself?
Force me to feel again?
Leaves flew round in whirlwinds,
mixed with the litter and dust.
Its low rustling and my heavy breathing the only sounds.
Did someone tell me I was beautiful once?
I think so.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1061824219766808802003-08-25T16:10:00.000+01:002003-08-25T16:10:19.973+01:00She looked back over her long meandering life, wondering at the things she did and why she didn't do some things, but the one question that haunted her relentlessly,
Why did people care about someone who had done nothing more than offer them some good conversations and a little hope.
Is that all it took to fall in love?
She hoped so.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1061209957225857002003-08-18T13:32:00.000+01:002003-08-18T13:32:37.320+01:00And in the end, will I ever have said something of consequence?
Even if not, somehow it doesn't matter.
It helps me, which allows me to help people who can't help themselves.
And that matters to me.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1061207714136184782003-08-18T12:55:00.000+01:002003-08-18T18:01:17.970+01:00Someone's story
I asked you to bruise your fingertips for me
To write me a song on your morning walk.
Fed up of relying on a dreamcatcher to keep my hopes afloat
I spent my days breathing other people’s smoke.
Our eyes watered under fluorescent lights
as we mourned the lotus flowers eaten by dogs.
Sulphurous matches lit your work by night
As letter by letter you carved our story.
I sent a prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1060783011659505702003-08-13T14:56:00.000+01:002003-08-13T15:01:54.050+01:00Keep breathing.
And do you remember how to breathe?
You’ll need to when you want to scream.
When your fingernails are worn
and your tear ducts ache.
I long to slow dance on old wooden floors
And feel the need to clap when I say I don’t believe in fairies.
I want to be in awe of the magician with his cards
And not understand that people can be cruel.
But instead I drive over tarmac roads
And prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1060770225848572312003-08-13T11:23:00.000+01:002003-08-13T11:36:20.270+01:00Cold
Dark.
My skin is chilled
Tears like ice on my cheeks.
Eyelids painfully cold against my eyes.
The wind is sharp
My fingers hurt
My ankles are stiff
Strands of hair whip my face.
Wrap my inadequate clothes closer around me.
The sun is no more for today
Black clouds filled with daggers replace it.
So drenched I’m cold.
So cold it hurts.
So hurt I’m tired.
Dark, cold and raining.
Deprived evenprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1060118725190980472003-08-05T22:25:00.000+01:002003-08-06T09:33:38.676+01:00Delirious
Cold sweats drenched and violent whispers echoed
While shallow breaths drew the tunnel walls closer.
Fires engraved ideas on retinas
While ever present demons acted out their plans.
Lightening storms evoked the power of fear
And incense floated in the humidity of night.
Passing shadows of shimmering fairies were endured
As panic was brought on by episodes of sanity.
Mirrors talked prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1062612905334445602003-08-03T11:15:00.000+01:002003-09-11T14:51:03.603+01:00Defeated
My hair is a mess
My makeup skewed.
Everytime I look in the mirror
All I see is you.
Change straight into my bathrobes
Don’t answer my door.
They got my hints eventually
Milkman leaves the bills outside on the floor.
Shine a light into my eyes
And I’m sure that you will see
Scarred forever on my retina
Is a clear image of how you used to be.
My hands search for yours in empty air
prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1059400514945966022003-07-28T14:55:00.000+01:002003-07-28T15:14:42.273+01:00Nothing to sing
Your words still linger on my skin,
but I’ve been screaming for silence with my dreams.
Been listening to you sing nothing for years
Looking at your stories fabricated from tears
I was secretly falling away
Into swirling clouds and emerald seas.
Following the footprints of forgotten ghosts
Tracing the stars with a feather pen
I don’t know if that place will be better
I would prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1059380230711503172003-07-28T09:17:00.000+01:002003-07-28T09:19:31.016+01:00I've been dancing in the clouds since the first time we spoke, but it wasn't until you left that I realised where I was.
Now I'm dancing here alone..... but somehow it isn't the same.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1059328389029936442003-07-27T18:53:00.000+01:002003-07-28T12:41:58.333+01:00Mine.
Drowning in the lingering song of Sirens
you were stolen away.
I'm sorry I had to make you mine
blind you with a moonlit candle.
You were so free of the burden of life
deaf to the cries of beauty and pain.
I couldn't bear to see you so alone
trapped with everyone else.
I had to show you the hidden door
to the endless slippery downwards path.
The view from up there was beautiful,prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1059126758229974472003-07-25T10:52:00.000+01:002003-07-26T10:53:57.456+01:00Dreams
I fell asleep to the soothing sound of rain on my window. Listening to the clouds put down their heavy burden, I escaped on the wings of Morpheus. He transported me away to a land of which I only remember fragments of feelings and people. He waited an eternity in that timeless place. Then when I was ready he guided me back….awaking me to the silence of a rising sun and a new day.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1059084470344520862003-07-24T23:07:00.000+01:002004-01-16T12:48:33.890ZDying to live
She stepped to the cliff edge, a vast expanse spread out beneath her. The wind was blowing her hair across her face, her skirt billowing slightly. She kicked the stones around her over the edge, watching them freefall silently. Her skin pricked into goosebumps. She could be that free. It was just one more step forward.
She closed her eyes, gave her body and mind a moment to prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1058973669929019232003-07-23T16:21:00.000+01:002003-07-23T16:21:27.453+01:00Have you ever felt like the world has brought you to your knees, but you’ve just gone crashing through the floor as you fell and now you’re left wondering how many floors there are till you hit the basement?prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1058963232362622472003-07-23T13:27:00.000+01:002003-07-28T12:36:49.520+01:00I slipped away silently, hoping she would notice, come after me.
But she didn't. I walked away alone.
I was deaf to her calls by the time she had realised that i was no longer there.
I no longer felt the need for someone to complete me as a human being.
I was complete.
I needed someone to complement my personality.
I needed someone else.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1058897996339914882003-07-22T19:19:00.000+01:002003-07-22T19:19:56.416+01:00i feel like i'm holding myself back from something. But I can't figure out what it is.
Maybe that's why images of myself flinging expensive, breakable objects through fragile windows pass before my eyes daily.
Maybe tomorrow i'll decide to do it.
and the day after that i'll actually do it.
Maybe tomorrow.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1058359586223993152003-07-16T13:46:00.000+01:002003-07-16T13:46:26.283+01:00Choosing my confessions
Everyday we speak and you think you know
Think you see my faults
even the things I don’t show.
You think I’m happy because I tell you I am.
You misread the signals
They’re in a language you don’t understand.
For others I’m a glass that they can see straight through,
but really it’s a mirror, a reflection of you.
We see in each other what we think we want,
All with prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057948817680391622003-07-11T19:40:00.000+01:002003-07-11T19:40:17.620+01:00Observations
I’m an ordinary girl in an extraordinary world,
watching ordinary scenes,
imagining ordinary dreams.
People go about their ordinary ways in their ordinary days,
experiencing ordinary joy
and suffering ordinary pain.
We eat our ordinary food and watch the ordinary news.
We drive our ordinary cars,
Leaders fight their ordinary wars.
You wear your ordinary clothes and play yourprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057917746686863702003-07-11T11:02:00.000+01:002003-07-16T13:46:43.490+01:00I think I met one of the most amazing people in my world, and although they live in an entirely place, I have them with me, always. I’ve never had anyone treat me the way they did. Not only did they listen to all that I had to say, but they understood, even the things I didn’t say. I don’t write this as a tale of love or woe or of tragedy, but I write it for people to know that it exists. That prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057828564978579472003-07-10T10:16:00.000+01:002003-07-10T14:33:47.003+01:00My lungs aren't strong enough to take the scream my body contains....so it waits indside, beneath my skin. Either for the day when I am strong enough to do it justice, or for the day when it has become uncontainable, regardless of the vessel.
Whichever comes first.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057668759910468962003-07-08T13:52:00.000+01:002003-07-08T13:52:39.970+01:00It took all my strength to throw my life into that fire. As I watched it burn it slowly became clear….it wasn’t my life that was becoming dust and ashes, but my inhibitions, the things that had been stopping me live. They licked the flames, reluctant to burn. They had been irrevocably entwined with me for so long…for my whole life. It would’ve been easy to destroy my life, so fragile is its glueprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057415745760366712003-07-05T15:35:00.000+01:002003-07-05T15:35:45.670+01:00She keeps on walking the same, never ending path, on and on. Every now and again she decides to veer off into the unknown and explore an undiscovered trail, but soon she is walking back on the same path again, still heading for the same place. She tricks herself into thinking that she is lost, that this path is new, that it is leading her somewhere else……but really its all alike. Every path will prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057267782785399812003-07-03T22:29:00.000+01:002003-07-03T22:29:42.726+01:00He plummeted down.
‘I’ve fallen’ he said.
‘Where?’
‘Into the unknown. The only way to fix it is for you to fall too.’
‘I don’t want to. Not there, not with you.’
‘…………’
‘What made you fall?’
‘Don’t know, it was an accident.'
.......Did he trip or did I inadvertently push him?prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057264658878857082003-07-03T21:37:00.000+01:002003-07-03T21:37:38.833+01:00Sometimes it’s the small things that count.
You smile as if it’s all ok, catching my eyes in that special way, but underneath the world doesn’t see, all those wrongs you did by me.
You seem to forget that you hardly ever called. I know it’s clichéd but it mattered, it hurt.
You took me for granted, said you had other things on your mind. But I saw you with people, for them you made time.
You prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057149532769206252003-07-02T13:38:00.000+01:002003-07-02T13:38:52.743+01:00You spend so much time looking at me, but do you really see? You play with my hair and stroke my skin, ask me to talk so you can hear my voice.
But when my hair has gone dry and grey, and my skin crinkles at the slightest touch and my voice is but a hoarse croak, will you still ask, still watch?prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102600658848482003-07-02T00:36:00.001+01:002003-07-02T00:36:40.686+01:00I watched you cry my tears. I was addicted to your pain, afraid of my own. I witnessed your tears evaporate into the night air, envious of their existence, of your ability to weep. It had been so long since I had felt those warm tears heat my cold veins. I would make you cry, since I could not. Experience the release through you.
Please, just let me shed my tearsprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102579819947852003-07-02T00:36:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:36:19.840+01:00How many people can you fit in a tro-tro?
Sliding doors are held on with string. The money collector’s head hangs out like a wing.
Someone hisses as they want to be dropped, he bangs on the roof for the driver to stop.
The folding seats clang as he slams on the brakes. The man at the back is jolted awake.
2 next to the driver, your size is no bar. Everyone accepts the discomfort no matter how prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102548797634882003-07-02T00:35:00.001+01:002003-07-02T00:35:48.816+01:00Searching for bonds
If I could just hold your hand, feel the roughness of your skin as you interlock your fingers with mine.
I could bind you through touch.
If you would just tell me about your day, listen as its highs and lows mingle with mine.
I could bind you through words.
If you would just catch my eye across a crowded room, my eyes smile in reply.
I could bind you through sight.
I could prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102511906611562003-07-02T00:35:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:35:11.923+01:00The Wanderer Returns
It happened so slowly, the change inside. I did not notice, nor did he confide. I was away for so long, experienced so many worlds. At each new turn I watched them unfurl. Each earth I compared to the last I had seen. I just a traveller, chasing my dreams. Eventually I returned to that familiar door, everything the same, people still fighting their wars. That street I had prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102486080386932003-07-02T00:34:00.002+01:002003-07-02T00:34:46.090+01:00He spoke but not in your language, listened but not to your words. A flash of beauty in an abhorrent world, struggling to exist. Barely contained his wild spirit shone through, preserved for an instant. Velvet skin draped over the muscles beneath. He showed nothing, hid nothing. He just existed, obliviously radiating his coarse magnetism, rejecting its power. He had realised that he understood prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102469737063172003-07-02T00:34:00.001+01:002003-07-02T00:34:29.743+01:00Sparks
It was as if someone had dusted off the sky, revealing all the stars in
their splendour.
It was like lightening had struck my veins, as if water was passing through my cracked, parched spirit.
I had been living as a vampire afraid of the sun, but now like an angel I beckoned it in.
Yet all the metaphors on this earth could not truly describe what I felt at that moment.
The first time Iprachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102444689829902003-07-02T00:34:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:34:04.693+01:00My tears crawled out slowly but passionately. Each drop heavy with the pain it carried, emptying my soul. Bent and bruised by heavy tears, I stumbled through. My vision blurred by pain’s dew. My bruises will fade, my soul will be replenished, but the agony of that weep will never leave my bones.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102410860147602003-07-02T00:33:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:33:30.890+01:00Like satin on ice, she slipped. She continued falling down that glacier of love and faith. As each note of the song played, the further and further she fell.
He stared deep into her soul as they danced and seeing her fall reached out to catch her, until he realised -
he was falling with her.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102379599400212003-07-02T00:32:00.002+01:002003-07-02T13:39:32.063+01:00Status Quo
Do not force your prejudices on me, I do not follow them, I do not agree.
You throw your comments like a kite to the wind and expect me to laugh, play along with your wit.
We are tied by unbreakable bonds that I have no wish to break, but I wish you could see the world already has so much hate.
You are entitled to your opinions, just as I am to mine, so I suppose (just as we always prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102353140761032003-07-02T00:32:00.001+01:002003-07-02T00:32:33.163+01:00Swept away by a speck of dust.
She stands there waiting.
So fragile was she that she was scarred by the wind.
Only slightly, but it still left its mark.
Now she’s waiting.
Despite her scars, she went out and got what she wanted… but now she’s waiting.
Waiting for the thing she got to do something.
Change her, heal her scars.
Just wait she thinks.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102322530595212003-07-02T00:32:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:32:02.550+01:00Perfect
Perfect hair.
Perfect eyes.
Perfect sense of humour.
Perfect intelligence.
Perfect taste.
Perfect height.
Perfect for me.
Not perfect for everyone else.
Dancing soulmates tripped up by society.
“Maybe you should pick another partner honey. No-one’s perfect.”
It depends on your definition of perfect.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057102287490858672003-07-02T00:31:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:31:27.623+01:00Nightmares
Her dreams raged on, wreaking havoc on her mind.
She could not wake, free her hands from the bind.
Her body was cold, her spirit on fire,
She was ready to fall off the tightrope’s wire.
Shadows laughed, demons waited to catch her fall.
Her subconscious shuddered, a guardian angel sat by the wall.
A flutter of wings, a swift and gentle flight.
The storms had passed, demons fled into prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057100233737207582003-07-01T23:57:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:06:09.093+01:00Roses
It pulses through my veins.
The red of the roses washing off into my blood.
The roses become colourless.
Still existing, but their beauty lost as the petals fall off,
one by one.
Its appeal has gone. Remembered with fondness but now looked at distastefully as it rots.
The soft, red petals now crisp and colourless.
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet”. Maybe, but what when the prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057100201740574402003-07-01T23:56:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:02:37.966+01:00LOVE. A four letter word.
But what does it mean?
A question that’s been asked a thousand times,
Each time answered with a thousand different answers.
But there is no answer, it has no definition.
You can feel it, show it, say it, not say it.
But it’s intangible.
Love is love.
Sometimes you are filled with it whether you want to be or not.prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057100152851652792003-07-01T23:55:00.002+01:002003-07-02T00:02:49.343+01:00DIY KITS
Have you ever felt like life is one of those DIY kits, just without the instructions?….You have to make it up as you go along.
Sometimes you end up with the picture on the box, sometimes you end up with something completely different but still functional…..but other times you just end up with a pile of wood and nails on the floor, and a load of cuts and bruises to go with it. prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057100124279990602003-07-01T23:55:00.001+01:002003-07-02T00:03:04.453+01:00Mistaken Identities
I watched him declare everything, but heard him say nothing.
Was he speaking to me?
Or was it to her…the one who is always a little more prominent; is able to express herself,
Yet is always mistaken for me.
How do I know?
Shards of light pierce through my painted skin
Their infrequency makes them blinding.
Is it illuminating enough for them to see?prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057100106908209352003-07-01T23:55:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:06:23.593+01:00Locked Doors
I couldn’t breathe you anymore,
I couldn’t feel you, hear you
You were on distant shores
I was thinking of people new.
The world was rolling onward
Time was moving faster than me.
I didn’t realise it would be so hard
I thought I was finally free.
But then I saw you.
I was on those distant shores.
I was hearing, breathing you new
I was reopening those locked doors.
I didn’t mean prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057100049328260042003-07-01T23:54:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:41:09.726+01:00Forbidden Love
Although we spend our days apart,
somehow you still touch my heart.
I dream sweet dreams of our days together
And you’ve told me that you’ll love me forever.
But my love we can no longer be,
For we could never make others see
The intensity of what we feel,
They would never believe that it is real.
I’ve played it over in my mind
A thousand times, but I still can’t find
The prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057097180587792102003-07-01T23:06:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:40:48.210+01:00False Memories
You talked of our conversations, but I’m sure I was not there.
You reminisced of our songs and dances, but I never danced with you. You described the dreams we’d made together, but I dreamt those dreams alone.
You repeated jokes that we had shared together, but I’ve no memory of the fun.
I don’t think this person was me my dear, infact I insist it was not me. Perhaps you saw my prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057097138107206262003-07-01T23:05:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:40:28.423+01:00Colliding Snowflakes
Falling aimlessly.
Born in the depths of clouds, we fell
Listening to death’s deafening knell.
We had only this time to exist and feel
Can 2 snowflakes turn society’s wheel?
We collided high, far from the ground
Spectators were few, even fewer heard the sound.
Our encounter was brief, intense and unsafe
But it altered my course, I paused in faith.
My formation was altered,prachinoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5535034.post-1057097068433206722003-07-01T23:04:00.000+01:002003-07-02T00:40:07.610+01:00Circles
If I could smash that chair through that window.
C-R-A-S-H.
Splintered glass, wood everywhere.
All over the floor.
“Why?” you ask. You would ask that.
You weren’t here, how could you know.
You weren’t here. You were too busy running.
Slow motion. S – L – O - W. Slow down.
The whole world is running as fast as it can, round and round in circles.
The faster you go, the more circles you prachinoreply@blogger.com0