BETRAYAL

 Mildly expressive, mildly intensive thats just how thoughts form.Just the art hanging for a view the intensity paints ones view.

As I lift my pen to write

I can feel the silence heavily cribbed

What words are left to clearly describe

To the ones who gave me words I evoke to lead it reversed

I would say just because I got the minimum circumstances

You can’t say this is what I am, I am not left to prance

When I am the pawn dancing in your fingertips

Once I believed my world was yours and marched forward was you lead

The comfortable place yearned for haunts me now

The change and crippling feeling are what you left

I got confused by my desire paving path becoming delusional

Hanging to receive answers from your disgusting mouth

It is difficult to express it clearly in paper

The drinks I gulped and its taste I remembered

I believe I became firm just after this incident

Losing the delusional thread of my existence

The time when everyone just thinks about you and your needs only

I was a part not anymore of your silly games u are lonely

I hate the fact I exist in this conversation

I am the phase of the empty, shattered pieces of art for you but I shine in my gallery beautifully IDIOT!

Img: The ache of throughts with swirled up flames

Text:Expressing paints of this emotion mildly for someone not for the author.

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

SLEEP

 

Sleep is a vague word for escapism, realistic in tale, yet  longing when lost, difference in perception within each individuals.A broken glass:one hides, the other express it as an oracle in life.

It is a boon and a blessing to become lost within reality

The times you exist, has a thin wire of life and death

It’s sleep which calls and you don’t feel scared just follow it anyway

Then comes the twist to escape the reality when it becomes a lobby

 

Surprising the dynamic, how much will you escape and flee

Then the warrior lifts the white flag up.. to maintain peace

The wind blows and shuts the eyes as the time passes

When nobody cares to pass by

 

It is beautiful or horror to go through the dreams to feel

The lost feeling that you yearn for just to heal

It will take decades of dreams to heal but you will overcome

It’s the law definitely to attract your needs and time

 

Well, how will you question if I could attract my needs with easy

But remember to see the days you should past nights

To bring the light you should experience the darkness

It's just the way universe works but you can overcome definitely

 

The lovely breeze that touches the skin brings back memories for happiness and emotional bling

The sky that you wish to touch have clouds all around

You just need to wait till it rains all the water out

To gain your sunshine waiting for your recovery

Img: Lost in sleep

Text:Weight of sleep

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

WORK, LIFE, LIVING CYCLE

The normal explanation of work life cycle with complex structured existing and living history.Everyone has different experiences the difficulty also struggle with hobbies and creativity with responsibility.Hope you all won't drift in the sea but survive the chaos of life and skill.A comfort place to share and live remember me in those days I will root for you if you wish.

When the struggle of imaginative soul trapped in a day to day

work life living

There were changes in the hustle bustle of the mind and the restless heart's believing

The scenarios which were questioned and pretty much confused suddenly started to pop up miraculously

The heart settled in the most but still the body continues to work life sadly

 

The imagination to change paths with trapped time just began to leap work and grow

The heart imagined if there's time than the work could began to rise from low

Then the soul could live in the times of fantasy and enjoy the deep sleep

But still the soul is existing how much can the society keep on just ripping

Again, the second wave of imagination starts to begin just in-case the works not published

Then there can be an honorable time when the poetry and writing take a twist

They get burned down along the poet and author being honored along their limited time list

At least the poet can feel grand and happy when elements honor the writing wished

 

But still I question the society please let the poet, author, and writer live at least

Just let them be free and creative it's a lot for them and live over existing

When the struggle of imaginative soul trapped in a day to day work, life, living

The heart settled in the most but still the body continues to work life sadly

Img: The sea of work life 

Text: Between living and existing

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

 

MY MUSE

 It explains the beauty of self-love and it's expression.The love which isn't forced but felt.It isn't bound but express.A short tale of self whishper's to feel and share.

 

My muse is young, with a long run

The beauty I see, I can't stop becoming free

Like a light feather, remains my dear heather

I confirm I like, but within I just fike

 

There is a long way, I have to say

If I have to love, with time she will hove

But the fact remains, I don’t know how to?

I will still learn with my hearts churn

 

Cause it's my dear, how can I still fear

I saw she's lost and glad I found

It was a challenge to hold the phalange

And fill the muscle so, she could relive

Its only between us, now we won't rush

In fact, I should say its only about me

It isn’t someone apart once flip it and see

I expressed about self-love which will help free dove

 

I forever will recall and forever keep up saying

My muse is young, with a long run

The beauty I see, I can't stop becoming free

Like a light feather, remains my dear heather

 

Churn: Unsettling emotion

Hove: to slowly move closer and become visible

Fike: Restless

Img: Mirror image representing self-adoration

Text: Self-love

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

PARANOMA

The flower blooms again without the need of support.To become a moon from the sun, takes alot with acceptance and trust in one self.To accept the flaw! a mere ink saves souls, marking journeys for others to stay.

 

The thing called love is a cruel word

It was something I searched for around the world

I also searched in lands

But finally found seated in my heart

 

I learned to love gradually flaws

I learned to let go and accept all of them

But when it was the time

I became the dreamer searching for understanding

 

I don’t expect love, from anyone

But the least just understand and know WHY?

Hold your breath, close your eyes, and dig deep

The ocean formed from droplets has it all

Despite reaching this stage of no love no hate

I know it's me who will change not you

I began inking my soul in paper through hands

Remarking my journey with new stands

 

I just want to be the moon

which is pretty from afar

The close contact would stop the encounter from

the inks and bar

 

I was desired, a choice, and a maybe once, I won't let the door open say!

The key has burned to ashes and formed manure in soil, now there's no escape from this door that leads the way

I had already lost the fragrance of my flower once

My story isn’t for the people to listen or mark but maybe can help some in their name I write

Img: The ocean representing layers similar to humans. 

Text: The play of emotion and reason to express not impress.

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

PERSPECTIVE OF HYDRANGEA

 Hydrangea flowers generally symbolize a glimpse of change with gratitude and understanding in emotion.The time frame of this flower is longest in flowering season symbolising a hope may this statement remain for a longer time frame with removal of all expectation.Is it possible? How long? 

The silence of knowing nothing ends

I mean the cycle just continues

The spin of emotions like years

I noticed it's me and myself

 

Just nobody existing in my spring

I like the world! it’s flaws

But I don’t love only beauty

As I believe it's not understood

 

It's just I simply want to feel

In search of myself, found everything

When all I was is nothing

It’s a victory and strength gained

Now, I can dare to speak

The truth is just very simple

I will speak as I will

And its again just aligned

 

Its more to ask know me

But less to just remember me

I lose the point of expectation

And feel I have gained everything

Img: The change of inner converse with duality and colors 

Text: The conversion point of expectation and reality.

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

FAROUCHE SPEAKS ABOUT POETRY

A small glimpse of words carving sentence of existence.The help of pacemaker is the sole reason of existing.An opportunity given to express, feel not impress but collect a whole emotion in small boxes within chapters of poems.A place where empath could share the emotional point of view. 

Poetry is my heart

It’s a replacement, transplant that I got!

The day I forget how to write

I declare the land is deaden

 

It's because I was given a second chance

To feel, bleed, cry, and joy altogether

It’s a new life which I can feel

It’s a ray of light in the darkest sea

 

One of the gifts that I received

Comes from the hardship by sailing my broken ship

I was given a pumping heart

To see, hear, feel and to let hear my call 

A boon that one receives with heavy price

Comes only after a second heart is born

In-fact the first can't lean and immerse with care

As they haven't experienced creation and mystery

 

We can cry, laugh, and express in poetry

It’s the blood that pumps in my heart

It’s the pacemaker in my heart that makes me alive

I am glad to be reborn with freshness

Img: The skeleton like hand is scribbling words of existence in           dead trees(paper).

Text: The similarity of a paper and a human if they both are       dead is visible either in the medium of paper or the words of   creation.

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

WHERE IS THE FIRE IN ME?

 This poem is dedicated to KIM who is the muse of this poem highlighting diligent passion.

I remember the passion, rage and love expressed in my dream

It’s been ages I can’t remember the fire will it even scream?

I build it up piece by piece to make it whole

But the spark is lost will I even reach my goal

 

The fire torch I use to carry wasn’t afraid of the sea

But deep down I could see it’s fading it is coming for me

All I wanted was to keep it safe from the sea’s with depth

But gradually it’s shinning as I’m inking with the sound of crept

 

I could hear the siren, feel the darkness yet, I’m numb

Where could I be? Or who could I even be?

I feel the tightness in my throat with loss of words

My heart sinked and reached the challenger deep                       

 

All I could see is water all around, suffocating, struggling to land in the ground

All I wanted was to protect my fire torch, was it too much to ask or bond?

As I’m losing a piece or whole self, fading, drifting, or sinking I still wanted to ink

How long could I handle this devastated self the lost me it’s gone within a blink

 

What have I even done to lose my only rope of success

I hanged it like treasure never feared and ran for my race

I worked hrs and yrs to improve! with even failures I trace

But at the last I couldn’t even win or prove was handed not trophy but it’s lace

The lace which makes me stand beside the winners

The face I see everyday and everywhere, the will, the flame is shattered with shame

How will I speak or who shall I share I’m scared, afraid even of my own name?

I yearn the fire it’s gracious touch where is the me I lost come back I won’t blame

Img: Flames surrounding a women 

Text: The search of the lost fire

Suggested by: KIM

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

FEAR OF SHEEP'S

The fear is about the way the world is running.The run for basic needs or desire.The peace is lost, remains void.The chase for comfort or a race of life?Need's or prestige?Is it the outer shell or actual existence?The struggle visible around is just the start.A mere human what can I do? I am too existing in the journey of sheep's can I ever be a sephard?Then what about those who really deserve to be awarded as sephard, Alas! The world doesn't works that way.The fixed norms and rules are needed to confine.Before you even know about a crime you will be disciplined and confined of the crime of enjoyment in life or breathe with ease.The nature is a gift! not a price needed to be paid.Despite knowing we can just sway and keep on relaying the same to the younger one's.

I fear I would start to be alike, like them

A mere though just began how can I actually blame

The fear I possess is certainly very deeply situated assured

It’s the life in a silent apocalypse, can't be cured

 

I see the walk of the affect ones, there talk!

At the end of the day, just finding within lock

The way they forget the essence of life and meaning

They forgot who they are? their goals crippling or leaning

 

The way the world is losing colors similarly they are

The kingdom is ruled by destruction only sheep's so far

I was eager to lift my head up so high

Realizing nothing can be trusted always there is a bye

Img: A man in tight spot mouth is taped and focused only in work with ropes dangling with a representation of confined will.

Text:It's represents the cycle of work in urban areas.

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

SEAS OF LIVING

 

Written to express the melancholy and odd view of life which exist with the beauty just like the day and night forms union to shape this world.The visual imagination of the sea and life when you don't know how to swim.The continuouse process of breathing and taking breaks with air just to rewind and sink in the water again.How many up's and down's will it take to decompose?Was it worthy or worthless.When the wavelength of light reflects with blue or green for me in water while other light reflects in the surface and floats.Can you ask me when I am not the same colored surface as you?I won't understand then definetly!Just become an empath to undestand can't you?

It feels like life is all about surviving the sea

The cycle of drowning will never be like a tea

The hardship settles just for the sand to dissolve and sink's

As I struggle to collect the sand, my soul rink's

 

I breath counted number of breathes and spend searching rest

I collect sands to build my own land my taste

But soon it sinks and leaves my soul to rink

The struggle it forever that’s what makes me think

 

And then people come and say all the time blink!

Blink to survive and feel the beauty in the link

Of the waves, sea's, and their fantasy with your eyes

I don’t know what they want to prove with lies

They say the world is beautiful a lot and true definitely

But only for you to blink! and with change flee

What's the romance that you all see which I cannot

The dual nature of life and living which isn't taught

 

The beauty you claim is a means just to escape

Hiding, creeping, burning, running always with mouth meant to tape

How much can you lie to other and enjoy

Shows the crystal-clear nature of the world just see

IMG BY: Malhotranandni55

Img:  The sea with a girl sitting in springboard

Text: A poem about the vast sea and life

FROM: ADMIN journeytopoetry@gmail.com

JUST A RANDOM CONSCIENCE LANTERN

 

Written to express trust and its betrayal, just like the lock and key provided among multiple individuals about secrets. It represents the fragile nature of trust. Who should be trusted? Maybe it is situational or a change with the drift of time. It also expresses the pain of bleeding using papers, unsure and confused whether it will ever see the light or reach the world. The symbolic relation of lock and key expresses loyalty and bonding deeply. It shows that trusted individuals are given keys, but the game begins when you can trust and remain free. Even the bonding of the lock is confined, and it can create fears of uncertainty. It represents the bitter truth about trust and partially about the nature of empathy. It expresses the pain hidden in every action, the minute melancholy is expressed even in great times. It's subsided due to the grand opening ahead, but still, that emotion is also validated.

 

I am inking the paper with poetries

The swift movement of the pen is what remains free

Just like the doves given wings and directions set free

As soon as the autumn sheds tree

 

The pens are dropped, wings are locked within confided locks

Then the days spin, nights ring winter begins

The papers are locked left over in stocks

Every little thing from synchronizing beats are kept in box

 

The change of season is very fast in here

But the emotions are scattered in it is what I fear

The ones who could decode and peek into deep layers

Are the keys I want to hide from I am scared

Just like those keys made Kafka's writing flare

But I'm still confused partially was it in his prayer

It was a piece he didn’t wanted to show hidden in layers

Out there are lots of keys who don’t care

 

 They just want to understand and give hopes isn’t it trespass, won't you fear?

Just because he is dead doesn’t mean your authorized to share his works, I think the soul will bear

Now tones of people will tell me it isn’t right, cause his works flared and is shining bright?

For I am not concerned with his success and fame after life cause I believe there are lots hidden when he was alive

The piercing fate is what lies

No one was there to share his cries

After his death everyone lured and tries

Well it was his dream he could have raised high and fly

IMG BY:Bored Panda

Img:  A girl is a lock in her back with key in hand

Text: A poem about trust issues

From: Admin journeytopoetry@gmail.com