Inner Bleeding

Akin to a fragment of glass

You float through my body.

At times I don’t feel you,

And your presence within me

Remains calm and without terror.

But then…

Your fierce edges sever my veins

And that old pain

Runs like blazing light

Into my blood

Until I am drowned by it,

And, yet,

Still alive.

Paravent

You are in pain,

But you don’t disclose it.

Your laughter is hearty,

But sometime a lie.

They stare at you, clutch at you,

Hurting you, driving you into a corner.

They admire you. They hate you.

You have everything, they say.

Everything you want. They don’t know

That you are in a fight, too,

Against the night’ iciness,

Against death’s darkness,

Against heavy roots attempting to twine around you

For the silent kill,

Against rain and snow…

… but nothing of it

Appears on your enchanting face.

You are smiling.

One Last Illusion

In hours of helpless rage

Razors cut through your heart,

Fear claims its toll

For your right to be afraid,

Your right to dig for answers

With bleeding fingers.

You live in this prison

Of deceitful hope

With Death’s patience

And yet – still you dice with God

For one last illusion.

 

 Isn’t it very strange, how we want to trust? Even though the truth about someone hits us with a battering ram… we still want to hold on to the illusion that everything is okay. The Illusion can be sweeter, more flattering and evoking peace in our hearts. But the moment, the die are cast differently, it’s a painful experience.

Heroes

From infant’s hopes,

Sliding from our shoulders,

We birth in perpetual labour

Our heroes,

Larger than life

Painfully divine in their aloofness.

Far from everything we are

And ever will be.

Our jealous craze

Rips them apart, our creatures,

Crushes them to patina

To coat our obsession

That craves for the messiah

But cannot suffer him.

I wrote this a while ago (and if all goes well, it will be published next year), but it never occurred to me that I might find it fitting just now, for this holiday season, as many thoughts are racing through my mind. I’m happy to say that my personal heroes are very human ones. People who do what they can – the friend who goes on living with a broken heart, …the man in the street who helps up the lady stumbling in front of him, … the patient who decides to tell me, a stranger, about the most traumatic moment in his life, thereby facing his worst nightmares, …the child who stand up to the bully in the schoolyard… and so on.

All you heroes out there – I feel so much respect for you.

A First Step Into New Territory

Every adventure begins with an idea. A first thought of what we might do appears in our minds and bears fruit, at times. We then make the first baby steps, perhaps grow bolder and become Jack Sparrow or Indiana Jones…or, perchance, the lady version of it, hm…

To start my own blog seems a ridiculous idea. Who needs another one? In all likelihood not even I do. But I am curious to step onto this new territory and draw a map of it as I go on my voyage of discovery…

…being aware how difficult it is to walk the fine line between taking one’s project seriously and not taking oneself too seriously, I am going to write about what I care about, what I enjoy or what concerns me. You might find texts on books, TV shows or films here (I can’t help it – my joy of creative minds is divided into all kinds of categories), poetry, aspects of life as I see it…ah, let’s see.

I might well be the only one benefitting from this, since I have known the cathartic effect of writing for years. I can’t say how often I will be posting, as ‘real life’ tends to be quite demanding, as you will know yourselves.

Perhaps you who found your way here will enjoy what you find. Perhaps now and then – which is my hope – it will provide a smile… and allow you to think about the kind of optimism I consider most important: “In order not to be a fool, an optimist must know how sad a place the world can be. It is only the pessimist who finds out anew every day.” (Sir Peter Ustinov)…

So, let’s try to be optimists in a world that sometimes tempts us to become someone else, that sometimes leads us to believe that we are not enough – and thus sometimes makes us forget the healing quality of being true to ourselves.  

Best wishes, Jas.