The Red Rose – story of Ora

The Red Rose

When spring blossoms in the atmosphere, new life nurtures.

Various colours, shapes and sizes,

All special in their own way.

The most beautiful rose in town,

The crimson colour of red it holds.

The sweet smell captured in the finest mixes of scents,

Each coil reveals a story.

The red rose

As perfect as perfection could be,

Till the day a petal sheds,

Then more…

The beauty is no longer admired with such ore’

Life can sometimes feel like that : the red rose with its lost beauty.

The red rose

Having shed the few petals makes the difference.

People no longer want the red rose in their perfectly manicured gardens.

Have you ever admired the red rose ?

I have

I am the red rose”

Yet I believe and know;

I still hold the beauty within my cuts and creases,

As pretty as I once blossomed, opened each coil, flourishing making the earth pretty.

The red rose still captures the sweetness of nature

-A.P-

Adrift

Adrift I am away from thoughts that conquer my vision,

Adrift I want to remain for ever from those locked away moments,

I do not want to feel fear,

I do not want to feel pain,

Forever afloat on cloud 9, shall I remain.

Adrift I am from those noises that break my peace I usually meditate to.

Adrift I am from the rest of the world full of glam.

I feel love,

I feel passion,

I feel warmth

Adrift I am …

The Reach… In hope of

The reach… In hope of

My fingers tremble, as my hand reaches out,

I keep that surreal look to my mind,

In some hope of touching the untouched.

The season of spring brings some glory to my hope.

Life had turned anti clockwise.

My fingers tremble,

My soul keeps trying,

As the physical body is on its last drive,

I feel the attempt will fail me yet once again.

The winter cold makes me shiver,

And the storms try and fight me.

Each look towards pure innocence seems so unreal.

Oh why do my fingers tremble.

As nature strips the tress and hope of life in Autumn, I await with my heart clenched in my throat.

My fingers tremble.

Minute after minute,

Hour after hour,

Day after day,

Week after week,

Month after month,

Season after season,

Year after year,

I do not give up

In hope of my journey to end,

Achieving success.

In summer the sun burns each layer of me,

I still reach in hope…

My fingers tremble.

There is a cycle I am locked up in and all my withered body knows is that I’m reaching out in hope.

My fingers tremble.

-A.P.

This picture is painted by Mayhem”

Thank you for sharing it with me

And the writing is based on the painting

Happy Birthday Son

Son

My little baby boy,

Looking back over a decade ago,

How tiny were you little stubby fingers,

Big bright red cheeks,

The cutest smile, alongside bilateral dimples.

You were always one of a kind.

Little tantrums to stay awake at nights with mummy or nana,

They were as bad as they ever got (we still have them).

Sitting in the kitchen with all the tools, you were ready to cook most times.

Your first full time days at childcare around the age of 6 months,

How my heart ripped leaving you there at the start (that was the best time of your life),

I was blessed that they looked after you my love.

Early onset to an early achiever you were,

I was so proud of you.

I walked you to kinder the first day hand in hand

And that’s where you learnt a new world,

You adjusted well.

I always said never fear the new (even though I probably silently did).

Your first favourite words, Kiki, kaka (dummy & water)

Kike’ was bike and chuck’ was bread. Oh dear and pruck’ was truck

I still remember all your milestones,

I must say I’m so proud because your milestones were mine as well.

In all these years I have realised I’m never alone

Full of happiness my life is when I think of you.

You wiped my tears and I wiped yours.

Your little hands trying to tuck me into bed after a long night shift.

Thank you beta (son), thank you for everything.

When you smile, it brightens my spirits & I learn to love all over again.

Happy birthday to you and birthing day to me.

11 years on your still my baby.

The Dark Knight’

The Dark Knight’

Introduction

Is the story of a Princess who once made a mistake; the one that cost her ,her Smile

The Dark Knight

Shining armour,

Sword sharper than the mighty Pen,

Bright, almost as the strongest rays of the sun reflecting off silver,

The Dark Knight stole my Smile.

Colours, once so warm, lit up my path,

yellow, red and blue’,

The Battle fields were lit up,

Roaring with grief, once mentioned in the Mahabharata,

As old as Sanskrit (Language or ancient India),

Thats how vague the memory is to me now.

The Dark Knight Stole my Smile.

Vultures now guard my kingdom,

Where I now reside, high up above,

So high, almost away from humanity;

Rustling old leaves, now far off photosynthesis are the only sound that replaces the sound of my hearts beat,

Creeky doors, that were once galvanised, replace the dream catchers bells,

And the Hooting Owls, the sound of the golden Harp.

The Dark Knight stole my Smile.

The shackles are really heavy, giving away the smell of rusting iron.

They almost feel like my glass Bangles I once wore.

No features on my face are the same (not that I can see),

No features on my face Feel’ the same,

They once contained my personality.

I have no mirror, the only close reality to one are the tear drops I shed,

The Dark Knight stole my smile.

A.P.

Once upon a time… MAYA

Once upon a time,

Far away in the serenity of the universe,

Tucked away in a little miracle word, in her little castle full of happiness and glory,

was a little girl,

her name; MAYA.

Maya: The power by which the universe becomes manifest; an illusion

 

Once upon a time,

So innocent of the world and its powers,

Little maya, would spend hours in the the most glorious forest reins,

Flowers, Trees, Earth all succumbed to her beauty and innocence.

 

Once upon a time,

when Maya giggled, the Earths creatures all danced along in glory,

when she opened her eyes the breeze would guide her way,

The rain would keep her purity

The clouds would protect her Aoura,

 

Once upon a time,

Maya too was warned of the forbidden wild ivory,

the depth of the lake,

And the big bad wolf….

 

Now,

Where is Maya? What is Maya?

Maya is scared of her voice,

her eyes try escape the glare of daylight,

The breeze feels like a whirlwind, so strong, it almost hurts.

The rain washes her wounds away, yet not entirely

And the clouds follow her like a dark nightmare.

Now,

Maya has seen the big bad wolf,

possibly touched a poisonous Ivory,

or simply lost her way back, or is it just an illusion Maya cannot escape

For year she has not been back,

The universe misses her, the wild animals mourn, the trees sway side to side in a never ending the search of pure Innocence.

 Innocence; Maya

A.P.

MIRRORS

Mirrors

I am a mirror to my body’

I am a mirror to my Mind’

I am a mirror to my deranged thoughts’

I am a mirror to my locked up soul’

“Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the most miserable of us all?”

Mirrors were once an object that ancient Egyptians, Romans and Greeks were very fond of.

For instant a broken mirror till this day is said to bring 7 years of bad luck.

They say that the mirror symbolically Inceases what it reflects’ (Feng shui)

Cracks in mirrors can fragment your life’ how does one reverse a fragmented self’

Mirrors are known to increase vital Chi (energy) of a space itself, than what about me?

“Mirror mirror on they wall, who is the most Displaced of us all?”

The human mind will see only’ what it wants to see, in the most truthful object possibly ever known of; The Mirror’

Unfortunately the human mind cannot sight beyond appearance, skin, hair, or even a fake smile set in a locked mirror image called a photograph.

False inner self’

False Smile that tries to hold the day’

False attitude I we wear’

The mirror shows us all;

what is it that you would to sight ?

Mirror mirror on the wall who is the sweet soul locked inside of me?’

Mirror replies at last, look deep within and you will see what your searching for, it is not lost yet, wake up and look into the beauty that you still portray. Look at the real meaning behind that fake smile, Look behind the first layer of your skin and shall find what you seek my child ’  –  Ora’

I look so hard and so dedicated yet I still cannot find what I’m trying to view.

I keep looking for hours and hours till the day ends and all I manage to find after a struggle is; A miserable me.

Mirror Mirror on the wall’……..

A.P.