The black the white the gray of life

The black the white the gray of life

Thursday, September 30, 2010

To You

Resorting to dark,
Drenched in tear stains,
My spirit striving, swimming out of pains.
The shore holds the dark, the unknown,
You let me no reach it,
again and again you drag me in,
That corner you stay in!
I'm used to the madness but this is insane!
No body, no form.
Feeling of fear shudders the valves of my heart.
I sense you stand,
I sense your power,
Tremendous rage isn't revenge over?
Are you a soul or a living dream?
Are you a scavenger or messenger of His?
Faith, enigma, euphoria , or a reflection of me?
Never has harm stalked me,
Are you keeping me in safety?
Why do you follow me in the dark?
Free me or leave me fast.
To the world I'm anyways a star gone wrong,
Confused, prejudiced, but rooted strong.
You will never win this haunting game,
The room loves my enchanting smell,
This darkness is my companion, my endless friend.

Monday, September 27, 2010


painting:The Edge of Tranquillity’ by Nick Gerolemou

Murky,dodged uncouth,
misty,mysterious not clearing way.
Unrevealed, reluctant its stay.

My vision battles, I refuse to stray.
The evil fog succumbs then.
Revealing a path, my knees creak,
I start to pace , ears tweak.

I quick turn, just the squirrel scurrying
Reaching branches,resident birds in ruffling sleep.
Fog unveils an unwinding path,
Thudding my temples, thumping heart.

The sight exhilarates some strength starts to grow,
Hypnotizing me the labyrinth calls,
Come not wait, surprises land never straight.
Lost feeling disappearing with the fog,
Stunned i just move on.

What lies ahead i know not.
I know , I have found my journey to embark on.
Never again will i be lost
never again will i be lost

Sunday, September 19, 2010

To and fro

Perched at the porch,
rusty smelly palms,
feeling the thrill,
my stomach churning on.

I'm off now but its following still,
What enchanting flow, what a soulful swing.
Beads of sweat, hair smelling sweet,
I stare at my palm, beginning to itch.

My vision moves to the feet,
Muddy,filthy content and free.
The grass below is dancing underneath,
In Chorus with the swing's Retreat.

while after when still,
the creaking sound wont pester in,
When the sparrow arrives at the suns consent,
perches on you, my mind is upset!

Its time for me to set the tables,
I want to reach high,
fly, believe with you,
stretch one palm out and feel the golden air.
Make breeze with spring in my feet and laughter in my hair.

But from the window I admire you stance.
Swing..... rusted, old
You hold memoirs of my childhood and more.