🌼 Poems That Held My Hand In May 🌼

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White, as if a shroud for one's dead,

Came the rain to cover the twisted

Smile with which the city laid.

The salt-wet cloud pressed down

Apologetically down on the wails

To muffle down the alleys where

Fear smelt sharper than the guilty

Lust for life.

The smoke rose up and died

In the arms of the rain

And the bruised earth cooled itself

Down to sleep on the sidewalk

Tattered from toes to head

And a loaf of wet, burned bread

Fed the hunger in their

Grim, kerosene-masked eyes.

There was a road from living,

So they said, and it was hope

That shone on the edge of

The blade. Prayers curled up

In its handle like a dirty scroll

Pushed up in a crypt, to hold onto

And to give up to the fire when

Rain shattered all.

- pollosky-in-blue

I have come to a conclusion, after mulling it over for a while, that happiness has been been cast off and melancholy embraced perhaps not because of the evil and dark being more beckoning, nor is it because of the naivety associated with joy, though perhaps this might be one, for effervescence is so often confused with gladness that it is no surprise that it is seen to be foolish, but because it has become now that stillness and silence are symbolic of melancholy, while happiness is characterised by permanent high-spirits. Contemplation and reflection are few things that bring inner tranquility, for many it is the source of peace. Thus for some any absence of continuous childlike behaviour becomes sadness and for the others any presence of natural laughter and to not always be lost in a maze of cluttered thoughts becomes immaturity. I’m somehow both of these people.

when you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! then, send to your last ten people in your notifs (anonymously). you never know who might benefit from spreading positivity♡♡♡

Thank you!

1. Kitten’s paws on table counters,I don’t know but that always makes me want to melt into puddle of awws and never let the poor cat go.

2. Stray wildflowers growing between the cracks in the footpath, can never have enough, all my old books are littered with little leaves and and flower spoil.

3. You know when it rains really hard and there are puddles everywhere and you can’t find a place wide enough to put your foot in and it’s like the earth has been broken into little glass pieces which you must not step on?

4. Finishing notebooks, particularly ones I’ve filled with midnight ramblings and things I’ve absentmindedly said to the doorknobs and curtains.

5. Someone, anyone, remembering me, and perhaps even sending me a message in spite of my extreme reluctance to initiate conversations.

And I can’t leave this one out, - learning something that I am not required to, I’ve an intense fixation with astrophysics, history and philosophy. my folks think it is a waste of time that could be spent reading my textbooks, thus it has also the sublime satisfaction of rebellion attached to it. So there’s that.

The lizard scurries back into its hole, as the sky above is wedded in a unison of coral and blue. The procession is clouded by a wreath of shadow, pockets of light gathering to pay homage to the departed. ‘Rainbow dreams’ call to be found.

𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟸𝟾, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶
 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹

sorry i never replied. everyday is blending together and im losing sense of time

Sigh, anyways no one can deny Calvin and Hobbes is the best Sunday strip comic.

Some people never observe anything.  Life just happens to them.  They get by on little more than a kind of dumb persistence, and they resist with anger and resentment anything that might lift them out of that false serenity.

The mild breeze twisted over the cloud of sunset,

Poised as though the sea had taken up

the form of her capricious admirer,

To stretch out her arms and reach for her

untouchable muse.

The pearly light of the moon twinkles

with the light of heavenly solace

Upon the ceaseless wave wandering in confounding

aimlessness,

All while the depths of the untouched ocean

rumble with the disturbed murmurs whispered to an

empty heart, wherein the first star at twilight

and the final star at dawn, will be united in a

yearning embrace, someday.

2022-06-18

Hydrangea

Canon EOS R3 + RF50mm f1.2L

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