About feelthinkwrite

Where it all began in very brief short-hand: [ grade 4- first poem: a coke tin in a warehouse is where it all began. No fancy tricks, no lying dicks. just think-feel-love-write-express- share && g(RO)w. ] I suppose it has been through struggling to find that one thing that really drives me that brought me to my poetry. There was nothing else, really, that seemed to come more naturally to me than words. I have interests of course: Photography, fashion, travel, music, cats, to name a few... Typical black sheep scenario. Youngest out of three- a brother - 9 years older; sister - 2 years older. Both of which have managed to dedicate their academic skills and complete very intense degrees with zero hassles. I guess it's not that I lack the above mentioned skills, but it's just the motivation that leaves me falling somewhat short of the mark... Call me hard-headed, but I have always solely been driven by that which I have brought myself or found myself believing in. Right now, I'm not one hundred percent sure what that is, but I do know some things that it isn't as well as some things that it could be. So for now, I'm young, age 20. Dual passport - mother: South African, father: Greek (EU) and this has obviously allowed me the opportunity of travelling to EU countries with little fuss. Through my experiences and life happening (as it does), I have met and befriended many unique people from around the world. Currently, I have been blessed with an opportunity to continue my journey in Switzerland, with the help of a very special someone, I was able to visit at the beginning of January and managed to do the necessary research to see the available possibilities for me to make the move more permanent. I will be studying french to get the basics of the local language and then look into studies. Even though I have completed one year of a Bcom Law degree (in 2011) in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, I also promised myself that after completing my year or if at any stage during my studies I discovered something else that I would like to do more, I would. And so here I am, doing what I love (writing) and staying true to my self-made promise. Possibilities are endless and abilities extend far beyond that which we have managed to exert thus far. All it takes is a willingness and belief and the rest will follow. I know I CAN and so I WILL.

Rejection, dragon meat/meet

Is something jaded less troubling than something tainted?

There is a limit that my soul can handle,

despite the role which I played to bring about the distance,

Acknowledging the errors, accepting the consequences,

I realise there is still only so much I can take.

 

And while I respect the time that each person needs may be different,

I don’t believe that the devil should rest upon me until that time is up.

There is a moment where I become jaded in the face of it all,

And an inner dragon rises to devour the source of hatred that taints me,

Not physically, but emotionally.

 

The fire inside me cannot be put out, it lives tamely within always,

until rejection rears its ugly head, and the dragon decides it shall be dead,

Acceptance subconsciously decided by the fate of what lies within me.

 

Advertisements

Time revised -V2

One of the measurements of this thing we call life,

A way in which we make sense of day and night,

or let things break down after a fight.

 

They say time is a healer,

Time will tell.

The question is ‘what?’ and ‘when?’

 

If time is a healer, which of the pains will be healed first?

Which cause will get the better of the situation passed?

Healing aside, the final remaining pain, who is to gain?

and who do we blame?

 

Its never one, but two. Action, reaction;

conscious or not,

inherited or learned;

Who can tell the difference?

What does it even matter?

 

Is it you, or is it just a phase?

Will it go away eventually or will you simply learn to live with it?

Does it become your hidden dragon, or do you tame it to be free from darkness you wish to harness?

 

How can others understand what we don’t about ourselves?

Do they, do you, do we?

Who has the final word, are they always right…?

How does anyone know exactly what is out of sight?

seeker

Tiny turbulence, the effect of ripples, butterflies:

Is there really nothing or do we choose not to see;

Like a child playing dumb, blinded eyes succeed,

until the truth makes sense and sense come alive;

Momentary lapses, secondary to none, fire reignited.

 

Faded memories stop to lack luster;

vivid light, contrasting dark moons, shining back in their own way.

Purely flowing, the river tainted her soul;

hearts and hands. heavy, shamed.

Relativity solves the mysteries society tried to create;

where individuality is up for sale, humanity. hail.

 

red-handedly overwhelmed

whenemotionsfail2hide

And when it first hits, as the initial bite passes along and makes its way into your stomach…

You know its nowhere near the only feeling or emotion you have:

 at that exact moment, the moments before and the moments that have yet to arrive…

but they will. You know.

 

Suddenly there seems to be a lack of place… the spaces inbetween shrink, the air inside and out doesn’t flow quite the same anymore… your breathing… but you’re always made aware as each passing breath takes that much more effort and at the same time loses that much more comfort of which it normally would increase.

 

You watch as it depletes… and you know and you see how your belly grows…

in a moment you are taken away from it to be brought only to the attention of a seemingly possible question to ask, yet alone to answer.

“why”

View original post 187 more words

expect nothing …

Aside

whenemotionsfail2hide

Expect nothing and in return; a preparation and opportunity to be impressed… or depressed by that which comes from it; When your mind consumes that of anothers reaction, when you seem to stumble upon some god-given right to say that which is right…

well it’s simple really… the higher power we give many names and many a colourful explanation for, the thing none of our minds are surely able to fathom;

the power bestowed on you as we feel it is on “him”…

religion or none. I know if your breathing right now… you surely weren’t the one to create that which I live, walk through and breathe each day. That which my own eyes reveal to me. the seeing, tasting, smelling, touching, hearing… that which I spent my life entraining and tuning-in with…

If you plan to play it, be sure you can answer to that which is still to be answered…that which is still…

View original post 112 more words

Jade’s memory

There’s an echo in the valley these memories seem to carry;
And (my) words appear to marry-
Then stop.
A breath takes hold of a paper to pen;
Inverse reality-
We’ll call Ben.
An uncle whose face I cannot realise to reincarnate,
So I immitate a form of reverie
Yet again-
I stop.
…As it was not my mission,
Now I begin to listen.