Category: Poems

There are those sceneries, people, and actions that naturally appease my mind when things go wrong, or when life seem so frightening. And in the end, I’ll tell to myself that no matter what, the beauty of nature remains there for us all to appreciate existence.

What Calms Me 

The scenery of Little birds fledling
And of heightened waves gliding 
The sounds of winds during a tempest
And of creatures going on a quest -
They abate my heart on a windy day

The little children playing 
Of their little eyes shimmering 
At the least object that falls
And of the tree that's so tall -
They abate my heart on a windy day 

Of lonesome journeying couples
With peculiar allure, who mumble 
Of secrets that I wanna hear, and
About how they became to each other so dear -
They abate my heart on a windy day 

Of the one who passionately sings
And of the other one who paints things 
While another writes a poem a story
The immortal artist's work that frees - 
They abate my heart on a windy day 

Of the hands that compose
And those that dance close, 
Passionately, breathlessly, heavenly 
And of all souls that make a city - 
They abate my heart on a windy day. 

Eiravel

“I wanted to embody the emotions I feel about ‘abandonment’, the word that I’ve chosen so as to write this poem.”

Of Belonging

Abandonment, what a sad word
For the living and this world
Everyday something is tossed away
Without chance of returning someday

Winds blow and rivers stream
While every creature dreams
Of belonging, of being cared for
And most, without wanting more

I want my whole self to be cherished
All of my thoughts unleashed
Living that good life unchained
Not a single piece of me thrown in a drain

We are a species born without furs
Our skin heated during summers
We can’t be abandoned creatures
For death awaits our fragile nature

How come we need to be dearly loved
To be wanted and be the beloved
And die in the hands of abandonment
Becoming monsters without good guidance

Somewhere someday we will remember
That we all need to be treasured
That we are connected through woumbs and oceans
And that the cries of those abandoned
Are achingly felt through our emotions.

A metaphor for stubbornness – a characteristic that fits me well.

To Carry Me Away, Away 

To abandon oneself
Just for once 
To give myself 
To the good ones, 
To close my eyes 
As to be blind 
And letting it and all
Carry me away, away 

Why can't I let me be - 
A mechanized thing 
Where still the bird fly
And everything living is free, 
Where we still sing 
And live through a lie 
With visions of strong winds
That carry me away, away 

Why all my stubbornness 
All are living breathing 
But in my head it's merely;
I can see my heart degress 
Stagnation is that one thing 
That causes the fear in me, 
A tension a frustration 
It buries me deeply, deeply

How shall I say
How will I wave
To the world to you
That I've lost something 
While I was rebelling 
As to set myself free;
As to find the escape door 
To carry me away, away 

My inner-war made sounds 
My inner-war was an exhaustion 
But inside I found 
Another type of dimension, 
The things that unfold 
While it whispered it told
A secret, a truth, a lie 
To carry me away, away.

Though able-bodied, I feel this incapacity
The incapacity to shake myself up
Right from the start, when the sun rises
For I wake up to forget, everything that I might be

I then search within my mind
This wondrous mind of mine
Forking deeply, digging, searching
For that missing piece hidden deep,
That one clue that I need to find

I want to remember when day comes
As the sun showers its light upon the world
To remember all of my movements
Of my first sound and view
Of the first waves and its foams
Reminiscing about those lost hours
And eidolons, first cities, of faces
And of the cyclope slowly opening its eye
While it sees this world for the first time,
Sinking deep to become ours

I know I’ll search endlessly
While my body and mind grows
On top of mountains, over seas and lands
Everyday I’ll learn to construct
As to one day rise up and remember
Everything that I might be.

I am obsessed about the beginning of existence and knowledge of one-self, fascinated by all of these layers that seem to shrink inside the smallest dot that might be.