Self absorbed much

I, me, mine.
Just me, only I.
I fell, I cried.
I fell on you, and you wiped
your tears. I only saw mine.

Always me, I,
That’s it. Only my
anger, fear, dried tears. I said
I understand your pain.
I tried to see the glass I broke
but felt only the shards. I lied.

You? What about mine?
Only me. Am I
Ouroboros actualized? It’s funny
that I glorify. I am spineless.
I raze myself, self-sabotage. Snake personified.

I am the snake who
convinced them of the apple. I
want to blame someone else
but it’s only me. I am
snake, Adam, and Eve, all tied.

I am the snake that
is under no control. Shiva
had the snake wrapped
around his neck but mine
strangles me, spitting venom. I am
the snake which bites itself, I cry.

I, me, mine.
A venomous snake that injects
me with my venom. My
tail in my mouth. Needless Ouroboros,
I don’t want to bite.

What we are

It takes a remarkable depth of
effort to recognise effort;
beauty to find beauty;
pain to see pain;
genius to perceive genius;
humility to see humility.

It takes a profound breadth of
ugliness to find ugly;
shallow to meet shallow;
pettiness to behave pettily;
hatred to spread hate;
pride to see pride.

It takes an abundance of
anything to see it in others;
To have it within us
to find it in others;
To see in others
is to see in us.

We need to have it in self
to see it in others;
that malice, that violence,
that brilliance, that piety.
What we are is what we see
in ourselves, in others.

Peak

Calming my breath to bring focus
at each step in front of me.
Not on the peak, not on the person ahead of me.
Just the next step is where my focus would be.

I look up and my head swims,
fear creeps up inside.
No amount of preparation seems enough
when the goal is in sight.

Fear starts to swell,
growing and it expands.
Legs shiver, feet tremble,
thoughts arrive in my mind.

When I am my age

“When I was your age
I had to live a certain way,
do certain things,
behave a certain way.”
“When I was your age,
I was already there,
doing certain things,
Following a certain way,
Struggling and trying,
This way or that way.”

Now, I am my age,
I try differently,
No interest in history.

Context is good-to-know,
Helps acceptance grow.
Knowledge of ways is good-for-info,
Great intellectual limbo.

Monotonous Tints

Hues and tints
Yellow, orange, red
Each round I make
The palette condenses.

Mix of purple
Orange, reds, pinks
As minutes pass
The palette deepens

Unable to contain
Comes burst of colours
Boundaries being stretched
The palette is broken

Antinomy: Irony of Words

Surrounded by words, people as words
Ideas as words, actions as words
Nothing to feel, only words.
Only talk, only babble.

Sadness in words
Happiness in words
Twisting, modifying
Aggrandizing, astonishing
Complicating, simplifying.
All words, all talk.

Hope as words,
Despair as words,
Nothing is felt,
Nothing is experienced,
Only words.

Flame

Looking at a flame in a closed space,
Running the fan at the lowest pace,
Flame is stable, flame is flickering,
It sometimes dances, mind is bickering.
Dancing flame looks appealing
Yellow, bright, swaying, pleasing.

Room flickers with the flame,
I only see what the flame shows,
Room looks unclear, many shadows,
Brightness is uneven, room looks narrow.

Flame occasionally settles,
It is no more just yellow.
Dark brown at the center, yellow surrounds it,
blue covers it with a clear glow.
Room no more sways,
It is visible with greater clarity,
Shadows still remain,
only limited to areas not lit by the flame.

Water

Is there anything more beautiful
than form devoid of form?
What twists, turns, bends,
to objects short and long.
Is that a hurdle,
Is that a gain,
is what a rock might say.
To formless it means nothing
anything more than a way.
It gurgles, bubbles, lashes,
trickles, swaying away.
From one sight it comes to you,
From other it goes away.

Greatness

There was once a man who wanted to be great,
great in the eyes of others, great in his own eyes.

So august, so unlimited, that he fixed everyone else around him.
Bound them to himself, bound them with himself.

He applied his ideas upon them, enforced his thoughts upon them,
He imposed his experience upon them, imposed his greatness upon them.

Advised them to be like him, advised them to do his bidding,
Tutored them about the ways of the world, counseled them to act like him.

He morphed himself into a figure of his own belief,
In an expectation of excellence which he knew only in his limitations.

He molded others around him in his limits,
Devoid others of their own infinite, devoid himself of his own infinite.

He finally became great, a restricted greatness it was,
surrounded by boundaries of his own imposition,

His power was fragile, brittle, and weak,
his power felt powerless, with many, at many times.
He still didn’t feel immense despite such control,
such greatness he had, such power he would yield.

He wondered what could have gone wrong, he wondered what he didn’t manage.
That’s when it occurred to him, that he was fiercely controlled.

Wisdom

For some wisdom is
being able to navigate life,
ensuring everything’s fine.
Skirting through troubles,
safeguarding their hearts,
shielding their minds,
from intensity.
Having found the least troublesome,
most secure methods,
is wisdom for nice.

Is it street-smartness?
To go down one and never detour,
collecting the discarded parts
in adjoining gutters?