Mysteries of the Present.

Like the little sorrows,
That flood the tiniest of cracks...

sipping in incessantly...

The fleeting memories of happy times...

Like mirages that clouds or vision

Everyday spent loosing it to the winds.

The tune of soft music,

the rhythm of a lax tap.

A wall propped up before us,

relentless soft whistle of the wind,

the cold of the night,

silent whispers of the stars above,

keenly watching the aches of ages,

The moan of the land beneath,

as fresh dew melts into nothingness..

The soft patter of raindrops,

The sculptor knows the secret,

the master tapestry of every inch of our lives,

Isn't God wonderful?

Behold the gracefulness of a deer,

The slimy taste of pain,

each and everyday we breath,

others take their last,

Isn't it a MUST to say thank you.

Then came love,

before that,there was hate,

then a little voice in us, nudges us,

to the epitomes of unending abyss...

Doomed is he, who grips ego to submission

I write much with a pen,

I speak less with my lips,

Read the face and feel the temperament.

The red of the roses,

the joy of the heart that loves,

life gives us both sides of a coin,

Today we are distressed,

not by our own doing,

but by the sentimental core of our existence,

I miss the times of the old,

where norms prescribed the paths,

to be called an elder is sacred,

for this I write with a weeping heart,

a mindless rhetoric you may say,

but it's me Loughran.

I smell Christmas around the corner. It comes with many blessings!

Gerry.

Comments

The Psychology Of Color.

I came across this collection of colors and its psychological meaning and found great references that I can relate with. " Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways. - Oscar Wilde . " Picture Courtesy of inspirationalfeed.com Have a wonderful weekend up ahead! Gerry

The prime of life ;Grasp it.

I created this "concept" video three years ago, the words are not my own, credit goes to the pearly and lustrous voice, of a great mentor, and a motivator, Mr. Johnson Mwakazi. I hadn't sat to really take in the words; today I did. Well, that was quite a befitting piece, for the times. Of course, motivation is not permanent. But then, neither is bathing; but it is something you should do on a regular basis. We look up to our mentors for various reasons, one being to always strive to achieve like they have. To the words, “The prime of life may be great, there is up and there is also down, one may reach the summit, but where else can one move on, except for descending again.” 01:12 Listen on. Gerry

If we wake up.

If today, that little veil covering the small steps of our lives is lifted, will we have enough of face to show the scars of time or stand tall and proudly display the plaques of amazing feats that we've achieved? Will we be able with unwavering demeanor, show the world the number of skeletons in our closets and those silent achievements earned over time? Or will we cower in abject shame as all is laid bare for everyone to see? Today, under the fluorescent dimness of the yellow reading lamp, he slights his palates with the sweetness of condiments sourced from random walks around malls, albeit the cold; a mix of frozen vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry sweetens this 1 am circus. The halls are silent, except for some occasional slow and sometimes fast patter of a random night owl, going for a tinkle. The new year is a bit laggy, maybe because of a long-awaited break from the normal constantness of haunting lecture halls, and the dreary atmosphere surrounding midterms. It's a re

Random Stirrings of The Mind.

Search This Blog