The black the white the gray of life

The black the white the gray of life

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


Image: from deviant art by Grawl

Formless, breathing with realms
Casting away slowly,
I believe you live in,
pools of dreams,
on hopeless pillowing.
Why do I feel a sense of belonging?

Let my lash a desert haggard,
Not one not two, close all,
Once into a slumber of plague,
Racing against the uncouth dark.

Vex me so much,
till the burst of dawn?
Are you a ghost of a broken child’s eerie past?
Or a candle inextinguishable of a writer’s burning art?
Or chronic fears of rue depart?

Else what?
Whatever be ‘o’ tenet,
You only thrive on tenses!
Bid bye my senses…

Monday, January 17, 2011


"The Mondarian Mushroom" by Stijn ´wulfnstein´ Louis

In the land of splashy greens,
thriving on unmitigated genes,
shrouded in sheen of hopes,
a complete outcast,
begins an audacious course.

What nerve,
What gills!
What stature disconcerted the wind!
Fungus of customs and uncouth nightmares,
inside horrifying movies,
bolding up,
an act of pretence.

Inside rests a softer core,
Sponges of curiosity,
Soaking in knowledge’s galore.
Sometimes lit by the sun’s shadows,
emanating an aura,
blinding disheveled goals.

The fight not land into on strangers plate,
Acting different, a brutal crime to slay,
Not craving to photosynthesize ,
his enemy his own soil,
his only offense,

Friday, January 14, 2011

To the world...

Not that i care,
what you perceive.
For all the pain the thorn gives,
only the rose's beauty in the mind pricks.

Slender waisted or bloating with banter,
Pink and pampered or dark or discoloured,
who are you to make my existence?
Who are you to judge with malevolence?
O world who are you?

Meager crumbs or useless hopes,
I live on,on my own,
I have an angel with a rainbow of halos
And I will run a mile the clouds,
we will dine with the sun,
we will shadow our duties bound..
Who are you to call me misfit?
Who are you to call me a convention?
O world who are you?

Hair of raven or colourless like dump water,
Not your concern, not your goal.
Mind your own,
Mind, remember I have an angel you don't.
Who are you to make some story?
Who are you to call me funny?
O world who are you?

One eye,
Sunk or floating,keep your labels.
Save them for further reference.
Be done,
I don't care because I sense your guilt,
Your green envy,
You don't have,
an angel like me.
Good bye,
I pray you be free.
Just tell mine...
Who are you to feel sympathetic?
O world who are you?

Monday, January 10, 2011


Why do we lose the real in search of the immaterial?
Why do we walk past sorrow when we can leap to hope?
Why do we love others, more than our very own?
Why can’t we love without hate?
The question remains….

How can we deceive when we must believe?
How do we curse when we must nurse?
How can we feel tired without trial?
How can a mixture lead to original?
The question remains….

What is laughter without pain?
What is victory without the risky game?
What is beyond if the farthest is near?
What does it mean to vanish, disappear?
The question remains…

Why don’t we sight the straight, the obvious,
Some questions we never ponder,
truths we choose to not discover.
Yes indeed,
It was schizophrenically monotonic,

Yet we did not ever think!

Sunday, January 9, 2011


A green leaf once came to live,
branches of two twigs,
one hopeful,
one less hope,
fought and fought for days alone.

Breaking off was not to be,
it hurt the tree could see,
a beautiful flower nearby,
said that's nothing,
it will cease.

Growth came,
dew of love gently brushed,
but nothing to the leaf's relief.
strong the leaf bore the winds,
Fighting every brutal chill.

Slowly maturing yellow aged,
the branches strong but waging still,
tearing apart the leaf,
two worlds torn,
its veins bursting.

Beneath a malicious fall,
but into the lovely flowers arms,
one that loved,
one that friend,
one that hope,
one that ray.

But the flower in fury,
an unknown sort,
banished the leaf a land forlorn,
detached the leaf shattered,
knowing not what trust felt?

Wilt is taking over fast,
seems every purpose lost,
one last of its very dreams,
when the wilt takes on the winds spin,
powder of a courageous feat,
making way to the flowers roots,
loving, living , caring through.

The flower's joy safe and sound,
the only love death unbound,
existence cant bar the leaf,
wilted it will eternal live,
breathe vibrant color of faith,
light shines through silhouettes,
cherishing dreams of the leaf the wind will get!