Momowords

Who are we to complain
About our dismal life?
‘Tis simply to shout in vain.
Disappointment, like a knife,
Carelessly tearing through
The canvas of our world.
Why is everyone blind to
The beauty of our pearled
Existence? Such indifference
Is inexplicable
In the short instants
Where life is capable
Of turning left
Instead of right.
It is theft;
Do you not feel contrite
When breathing this air,
Seeing this work of art,
And saying a prayer
Demanding a fresh start?
To think it was one man
Who created such splendour!
Do not look for something more than
What is simply nature.
Coincidence, space, time,
This is our origin.
It is no crime,
Certainly no sin
To not know all
And want to know it now.
For is it not a thrall
To take out your plough
And prepare your mind
To learning with trust
That what makes up mankind
Consists simply of stardust.

Is it not magnificent,
That was given birth
In a corner so insignificant,
This planet called Earth?

My highest angel, what have they done to you?

You used to reach the heavens, way up in the skies
Used to burn the brightest, shine like no other one.
Your love was as fierce as the light in your eyes;
The glow of life shone, luminous as the sun.

Darling, you are falling.

They dragged you into hell, drowned you in self-loathing.
Oh those demons, they have made you one of theirs,
You used to be so strong – why have you stopped fighting?
You have become the demon from your nightmares.

My fallen angel, what have you done?

Let me fly
To where the sea
Meets the sky

The worlds with which our mind comes up –
Infinitely enchanting.
Imagination is the cup
In which brims story-telling.

I hear, yet I do not listen.
The words float through me
As faces wash up on the shore
Of my consciousness.

I walked the surface
Of life-
Now I slide down
The stairs to my death.

I have lost all will to care,
All will to grieve.
I am constantly falling,
Yet I was never up high.

I have not lived life;
Life has lived through me.
I have stopped living,
There is nothing more for life to bring.

There never was,
There never will be.
I am doomed by the cursed hand
Of eternal desolation.

You love – you inspire,
You love – you create.
You were caught in the crossfire
Of a war between love and hate.
They can try all they want,
We’re in this together.
Carnage is all they want,
But love is forever.

49 syllables for the victims of the Orlando shooting. Truly, you deserved so much better. You will never be forgotten.

The first time you read a book
Is not something you can experience twice.
Abstract ideas take a concrete look
As words are scribbled down, all becomes concise.
The end of a story must not be mourned;
Its very beginning is a celebration!
The excitement should be remembered;
Rush of anticipation,
As your eyes travel across the text,
Drawing up endless alternatives.
What will happen next?
Is that not what life symbolises?
We must celebrate our unawareness of the future
Ignorant of what the next chapter will carry.
Re-reading your favourite book is similar
To looking at an old photograph from your history;
A book is a life – constant thrall.
Books shall always be man’s dearest friend,
For are we not all
Stories in the end?

Black is the colour of the night
And the colour of my soul,
Where stars no longer shine bright;
Swallowed up by my black hole.

White is for the light-hearted,
Why am I so afraid of whitening?
Black is for the dark-minded,
I feel the darkness slipping.

Here, see what you have done:
You have burned away what you lack
And is all that I had. My sun,
You have left ashes the only black.

I can no longer take this,
I must choose a side,
Between the lies and the bliss.
How can I decide?

You are the root
Of my benediction,
You are the root
Of my affliction.

You’ve torn my soul
As you’re tearing my heart.
You make me whole
Yet you tear me apart.

I can’t live without you,
You can’t live without me.
I can’t live with you,
You can’t live with me.

You kill to eat,
You eat to make beautiful.
Strip away this meat
That I give you, Hannibal.

Beauty isn’t physical,
Isn’t to be measured.
And yours above all,
Must be treasured.