The Explorers...

Some seek beyond the limits posed,
deeper than darkness,
higher than galaxies...
For others to steal and capture the parts that shine,
and pin those thoughts in a butterfly stand,
to stay in the level of beauty to admire,
but never to find understanding,
but never to go and seek for themselves..

The explorer leaves the realm of the common again...
having seen his finds being played with like toys again...

The explorer looks up to the stars,
the infinite journey is to seek and find.

Some are never still,
Some are always mad,
Some question what is real,
some expand the map.

In his lonely way we see him depart,
the explorer has to be a explorer and transcend his art.

azile x

What can and can't be taken from you

I wrote this poem in 2008 but I really felt like reviving it:

They can control your actions,
but never what motivated them.
They can control what you read and what you write,
but never what you really think.
The can control your body
but never your mind.
They can control what you say,
but never what your opinions really are.
They can tell you who the bad one is,
Put him in jail,
But you will always know who the guilty one was.
They can own your labour,
Steal your profits
Throw it all into a black hole of debt
But your reasons to wake up the next morning
will still be only yours.
They can imprison you,
But your love will make you free.
They can take your body,
Starve your body,
Break your body,
But your soul will always remain untouched.

Resignation is the only thing worse than suicide...

x
azile

A seemingly meaningless life

Down and up mountains
Across vast valleys
Walking in inner city streets
There are people, many people searching for the meaning of life.

I found myself asking the same question
Never finding
Always in the process of becoming, of looking, of feeling imperfect
The meaning of human life
Is to find every moment perfect.

Accepting yourself,
And that everything is alive
For what purpose you may ask?
The meaning of life lays in simply being.

Words can kill what I want to express
The medium can kill the message
The meaning of life is to become one with your existence.
Like a tree. Like a tiger. Like a stream.
They just are. We just are.

We are information, consciousness and awareness in this vast universe.
A beautiful possibility actualised.
We can be free.
Our meaning lays in being, not in reacting.

I found the meaning of life in your eyes
I saw the eternity of Spinoza’s god in your eyes.
I saw the purposefully existence of your eyes in your eyes.
I saw love. I am love. I found love in your eyes.

The meaning of life is truly personal
Alone but not lonely
The meaning of life is truth
And truth is a pathless life, a seemingly meaningless life.

x
azile

THE LIARS...

They talk so soft
the liars,
they find your world
the liars,
they sing fake songs
the liars,
they speak in tongues
the liars,
they gain your trust
the liars,
the blow gold as dust
the liars,
they crawl and hide
the liars,
they put you in dream land
the liars,
they send shivers down your spine
make your heat beat slow, then fast
there's a way to make them stop,
you need to wake up
and not be one of
the liars.

azile

SO I AM....

I am.
Mind like a roulette, an Ecuadorian-Russian roulette,
Heart like a hyperactive bird in too small a cage,
My face is my story and my body my soldier,
A lonely human being... and some friends...

A person as a wish...

Things become relatively easy, with time. The hardest, the harshest, the longest, the impossible. Then, it exists. You were a granted wish. Everything in you now was once a dream of mine, a dream of when my mind didn't know how to scheme, how to wish, how to love. You came ready made but you were impossible to know.

Did you ever wanted to know what my dreams were? What I was looking for? Well look no further because it was you. You were my ideas of the past all turned into flesh. The past. The reality was too close to the fantasy. You were hard to handle, you were like a new technology of human being that came without instructions. I was lost. I had to look no further and thus the quest had ended. There I was, twisting and turning with my present from the Universe. Me? Well before you I was a dreamer of course. Imagining and planning. You? Tall and entertaining, so fun. Your smile looked like it didn't belong to this world. Enchanting. I was hypnotized and paralyzed. I don't know how to belong to anyone.

 I really had to make you go away. I pushed you and said 'I'll be happy if you are happy, somewhere, anywhere, but not here' you smiled at me liked that, it broke me in half. The story had split in two with me. It was either worshiping dedication, or freedom. Your perfection made me see the rest of the world as ugly. Like the moment when your ipod runs out of battery on the train and you are left hearing the shaking noise of the rails. You took all the colour from the landscape away. What did you do wrong so I let you go? Nothing. You never cared, you blamed it on me. You waited on me. You relaid on me. You waited for the love of two to come from one, me. I was only human and I am no one's wish. You? Made of fairy ghost and all concerned with beauty. Me? covered in bruises and paint. My moves were real and awkward, yours real and graceful. It shouldn't be this way, the boy is not supposed to be more graceful than the girl. It is, it was. I painted you so good in my head, little did I know that you were being created, shaped, somewhere else. I had you, I tasted you, I told you I'm happy. Now, you go, go be happy somewhere else.

x
azile

He's Gonna Go

Let me remind you, she said
that time doesn't exist
so I am not late...
her voice sounded like chocking
as if her throat was flooding or getting narrow
'I thought you were joking'
it hurt like an arrow.

His eyes were barely open,
but still he looked calm,
more than dreading he was hoping
more like the Shepperd that the lamb.

She ran up next to his bed,
'you never answer any of my questions'
she couldn't accept fate in her head...
now that you mention
that life is about lessons and pain
she remembered how she didn't want to cry again.

What is the point of knowing
that we can dismantle the universe as we know it,
when we are loosing
the one we are loving.

The beep of the machine,
determined for how long he could stay, his time...
all she could do was hold his hand.

He wanted to tell her to be strong,
that sometimes it was fine to be wrong
to be tender and carry on,
to breath slow and play their song.