Emotional Voice in the East

As an emotional being holding onto a pen,
I might transcribe earthquakes to show
My inner battles against the conflicts of Man,
Or dig deeper and release waters of life
To resurrect many unnamed forlorn souls,
An Eastern voice within starts to resonate.

Two Sides of the Same War

The space is spilling its own secrets,
But a void is trying to interrupt the
Communications, and a wooden door
Was opened, I heard it myself, stars
Running through it as if horses or
Soldiers or freedom fighters, or waves
Upon waves of nature’s way to show
A peaceful movement, and there –
There! A shooting star leading the
Resistance against all of the void,
And the horns of battle have been
Blown, and now, stars clash against
Blackness somewhere into the space,
The sky starts to be filled with fog,
Obscuring the battlefield, everything
Is now cloudy, but I can feel the stars
Are starting to diminish – our poor
Sky is gathering their dust and is
Now full of tears, we are getting
Drenched by their sorrow while
Both space and void sit back on
Their comfy chairs shaking hands
After all pawns gone: checkmated.

It’s Tempting

Captain came up with a plan,
We shall raid the royal ship,
Hide behind an archipelago,
And beam towards the Sun,
Forward! Right! Cannons!
Holes in their burning flag,
Battle won, their ship sunk,
And we sing on their gold,
We light a smouldering fire,
We roast a delicious lamb,
A feast ha! A feast for us all,
And while they sing, while
They dance, and while they
Eat, while they sleep, hehe,
I shall go below the ground,
All the treasure lies around,
At the centre is a huge box,
Its key is on its golden lock,
So I open it and within it lies
A dark purple slimy octopus,
So I run up towards the deck,
Back to my mates we sing,
And we dance, we eat, and
Then we shall all fall asleep.

Welcome Refugees

Fry the mind in volcanic headlines
Or meet the descendants of Life,
A life lived on a journey where it ends –
Still alive! A demand for a graceful
Hug, from residents, from homes –
Secured with no security guards to
Secure the perimeter or overhead
Airstrikes producing an acidic rain
That purified our souls to annihilation,
Seeking refuge away from a man
Of inorganic culture cultivated from
Corrupted minds of many men,
Not women; they are our refuge,
Cheering organic cultivation at the
Train station – not a strike,
And then my heartbeat delivered a
Tearful. Joyful. Beautiful. Heart-full. Beat.
Beating the cultures of violence,
To violate my face with a smile,
Unusual face, unusual faces,
Men, now, giving me water, juice,
Sandwich – our last meal replaced
Our last, and last but not least:
Banners from residents, from homes –
“Refugees Are Welcomed”.

Lifting Depression

The mist gradually enveloped my soul,
Natural cycles of life halted,
Branches of trees snapped,
Leaves on the ground hardened,
My back becomes more crooked,
To look ahead was to open wounds,
To move backwards only eased them,
But the drums of battle pierced my limbs,
I had few breaths left,
And no chance of survival,
Then a being entered my curse,
The dark mist on my soul lifted,
The waters of life returned,
Now, my branches towards the heavens elevated.