A poem by E.E.Cummings.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
Learning to be what I am and learning to resign with good grace everything I am not. Here i try to make sense of things, my inner turmoil and why i am who i am. As i pass through this life, each and everyone i meet, leaves me with something. I am who i am partly because of them.
Saturday, 17 July 2010
Monday, 5 July 2010
If.......
If someone should stand right in front of you,you'd notice them
If someone should break down and cry, you'd notice them
If someone should seek your helping hand, you'd be there in a flash
Except when that person is; someone, invisible, unimportant and
inconsequential in your world. Someone you deemed unworthy of your
friendship, love or affection.
- Me -
You saw me as a trivial part of your life and acted accordingly.
You treated me like i was invisible. You looked right through me,
walked right by me and sometimes, even walked all over me.
Still I stood, waiting patiently to be noticed by you.
When you did look up, it was to spit venomous words.
To damage my spirit. When you did act, it was to show me the
devil you really were. You showed me the other side of love
I could have gotten angry I supposed. I could have played an eye for an eye.
Tell the world, you were despicable. Exposed you for the black hole you really were.
I could have left I know. But love kept my feet firmly on the ground.
Had you bothered, you would have seen eyes filled with love
Arms ready to enfold you in a loving embrace.
Courage, strength and support, ready to stand by your side
Instead you wasted time on looking elsewhere, for what was standing right in front of you.
If someone should break down and cry, you'd notice them
If someone should seek your helping hand, you'd be there in a flash
Except when that person is; someone, invisible, unimportant and
inconsequential in your world. Someone you deemed unworthy of your
friendship, love or affection.
- Me -
You saw me as a trivial part of your life and acted accordingly.
You treated me like i was invisible. You looked right through me,
walked right by me and sometimes, even walked all over me.
Still I stood, waiting patiently to be noticed by you.
When you did look up, it was to spit venomous words.
To damage my spirit. When you did act, it was to show me the
devil you really were. You showed me the other side of love
I could have gotten angry I supposed. I could have played an eye for an eye.
Tell the world, you were despicable. Exposed you for the black hole you really were.
I could have left I know. But love kept my feet firmly on the ground.
Had you bothered, you would have seen eyes filled with love
Arms ready to enfold you in a loving embrace.
Courage, strength and support, ready to stand by your side
Instead you wasted time on looking elsewhere, for what was standing right in front of you.
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
The Heart Knows
Who knew that the heart,
could feel like a separate
entity, away from the body
Who knew that a heart could
feel so happy. It dances, so the
beat ,feels so different, from
the pace it normally beats
Who knew that my heart
is so attached to you that,
hurting you could affect it
in such a way, it feels
alien even to me.
Who knew that my heart
love you so much it
reacts, of its own accord,
to every emotion, every action
and every sound you ever make
Who knew that my heart
could feel like a separate
entity, away from the body
Who knew that a heart could
feel so happy. It dances, so the
beat ,feels so different, from
the pace it normally beats
Who knew that my heart
is so attached to you that,
hurting you could affect it
in such a way, it feels
alien even to me.
Who knew that my heart
love you so much it
reacts, of its own accord,
to every emotion, every action
and every sound you ever make
Who knew that my heart
would find the spark, to light
its eternal flame, hidden within you
Its as though, it flourishes from a molten lava
of love flowing in your name
Its as though, it flourishes from a molten lava
of love flowing in your name
Who knew that my heart would
decide my fate, without so much of fuss.
I can not fault it though, for even I know,
its been in-love with you, for more than half
of its existence.
I can not fault it though, for even I know,
its been in-love with you, for more than half
of its existence.
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
My Impossible Wish
I.
Sitting on my bed
I stared at the picture on my wall.
Surrounded by discarded tissues,
it felt like my heart, was being
wrenched in two.
Alone in my room, I held myself
as tears streamed down my face.
Filled to the core with sorrow,
all I could do was shake my head
as the words no! no! no! no! no
poured out of me.
I had just lost my father.
II.
Words cannot describe the emptiness,
the sorrow, the pain, and most of all, the guilt.
Shoulders shuddering, I sobbed
into the night.
I couldn’t help but play over and over
in my mind'
the incident of the day before.
The stupidity of my actions plagues
me ever since.
III.
It’s been five years now, and
I’m still overwhelmed with guilt.
For he had called the night before
wanting to talk.
Like a fool, not realising how
significant the call was,
I told him I’d call him back the next day.
Why, you asked?
- because I had some friends over.
My father died in his sleep that night.
IV.
How stupid!
How ignorant of me
to think life is guaranteed!
How ...
How I wish I could rewind time
Just a little bit
I promise
It would only be for that night
Please, just for that night.
V.
Would it be possible, I wonder,
to call the cosmo into order
To align the stars
So I could rewrite
the mistake of that night
Father,
I would sit, with my legs crossed,
Probably on my couch or preferably
On my bed
I would sit and talk to you
for as long as you want me to
VI.
I would tell you how much
I loved you
Tell you how much you mean to me
How much you’ve given me
How much I appreciate you
I would forgive you for the things
I now know to be beyond your control.
I would tell you what a wonderful
father you were
I would promise anything you want.
VII.
I would wish upon a falling star
If it means going back to right
the wrong of that night.
However, since I do not possess
the magic needed, to call the cosmo into order
I’ll say I’m sorry
For I couldn’t bid you farewell
on that fateful night.
I'm sorry,
I love you.
Rest In Peace.
- Florence
Reprinted from Soulful Ladies
http://soulfulladies.blogspot.com/2010/05/i.html
- Florence
Reprinted from Soulful Ladies
http://soulfulladies.blogspot.com/2010/05/i.html
Thursday, 27 May 2010
Food For Thought
Came across this in my inbox and decided to share it here. It makes you wonder, do you see your glass half full or half empty?
They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.
On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"
"It was great, Dad."
"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.
"Oh yeah," said the son.
"So, tell me, what you learned from the trip?" asked the father.
The son answered:
"I saw that we have one dog and they had four.
We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.
We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.
Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.
We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.
We have servants who serve us, but they serve others.
We buy our food, but they grow theirs.
We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."
The boy's father was speechless.
Then his son added, “Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are."
Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have...
Appreciate every single thing you have, especially your family and friends!
..........
One day, the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people live. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.
On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"
"It was great, Dad."
"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.
"Oh yeah," said the son.
"So, tell me, what you learned from the trip?" asked the father.
The son answered:
"I saw that we have one dog and they had four.
We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.
We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.
Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.
We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.
We have servants who serve us, but they serve others.
We buy our food, but they grow theirs.
We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."
The boy's father was speechless.
Then his son added, “Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are."
Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have...
Appreciate every single thing you have, especially your family and friends!
"Life is too short and friends are too few."
Monday, 24 May 2010
This reminded me of you
"A heart is a fragile thing. That's why we protect it so vigorously, giving it away so rarely. And why it means so much more when we do.
Some hearts are more fragile than others. Pure somehow. Like crystals in a world of glass. Even the way they shatter is beautiful." - Everwood
Some hearts are more fragile than others. Pure somehow. Like crystals in a world of glass. Even the way they shatter is beautiful." - Everwood
Friday, 21 May 2010
DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE 1
DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?
A picture is worth more than a thousand words. At least, that’s how the saying goes.
So here is a picture for you to consider. Tell me, what do you see?
Do you see a Super hero pondering how to put a shattered woman together again?
Do you see a super hero after an ugly battle trying to catch his breath?
Do you see a man sorry for his actions or a man ready to deliver the last blow?
Maybe like me you see a man pleading for forgiveness after destroying you until all you see is broken pieces of yourself.
Perhaps you opened your eyes one day, I mean really opened your eyes.
You piece together everything you called your life, and there is the picture staring back at you.
You are shocked that this is what your life has become. For you could barely recognise who you are or what you stand for.
As you lay there, you promised yourself to never allow this to happen again.
You began to think of ways to put yourself back together again. And a quote came to mind. “He who trims himself to suit everyone will soon whittle himself away." ~ Raymond Hull”
Knowing that that’s part of the problem, you decided to start with the basic things. Things like “What is my favourite colour?” only to realise you do not have one.
As you asked yourself how it’s even possible for someone not to have a favourite colour, you remembered. You did have a favourite colour. It was red. Only when you recall red, it’s tied to an unpleasant memory.
Yet you snapped yourself out of it and asked yourself another question. “What is my favourite hobby?” but you come up short. Why? ... Well because he hated it. Hated it, until you had to give it up.
And one by one you realised that you had chipped away at yourself trying to make him happy.
So in addition to how you already feel, you add guilt to it. But most of all, you now realised that in addition to being able to hurt you, he also has the power to make you hurt yourself. So you vouch to never make yourself a victim again. You promised to get out, to rebuild your life again.
But as you began to regain your confidence, as you get to that point where you can actually hold your head up again, he comes back. Told you he was a changed man and promised never to do those things again. Got on his knees and sobbing, pleading for your forgiveness and confessing his undying love.
I pause here to ask of you a simple question: Would you forgive him?
Would you forgive this man, the man you had loved for so long? The man you had thought, at one point in your life, you could live the rest of your life with. This man, who’s now prostrated in front of you, asking, that you forget everything, so you can start again.
Taken aback, you begin to examine what it was like to live with him. You remembered how he had carried out a hate vendetta against you for nearly a decade. How your tears had meant nothing to him. You remembered how you had considered him a punishment from God himself.
Nevertheless here he is now, asking to be forgiven. Surely this must mean something you thought. Maybe God had decided to finally answer your prayers regarding this man you thought. Coming out of your reverie, you heard something to confirm your worst fear. He had been ordered to apologise.
Still holding unto your sanity by a thread, you probed for more answers. Answers, came alright, only now wish you hadn’t even bothered. Because now, now you realised that this man wasn’t asking to be forgiven because he felt any remorse. He didn’t regret breaking you; he didn’t regret isolating you or the humiliation he caused you. Not even your pain registered to this man.
With panic, you realised, that for almost a decade, you truly have been sleeping with your enemy. Because the only reason for the display of remorse is his twisted idea, that with your forgiveness comes a blissful life.
So I ask you one more time: Could you ever forgive him?
Could you???........
………..
A picture is worth more than a thousand words. However what’s more important is the interpretation of what we see.
Look at the picture once again and tell me what you see now.
Do you see a hero on his knees or a villain?
More importantly which of the two are?
- Florence
- Florence
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