Perfect is that thing that life promises, that ideas derive from and that imagination sets. Although humans touch it through idea and imagining they cannot recreate it. A pefect circle when re created is always flawed, the idea is not.
I am that ‘rock’ that amazing creature named, yet as a rock, I knew no name, I held no time, I held no place.
Then the creature came, it held me as in photography, it cut and claimed my boundaries, it coloured me and wrapped a chain to hold my heart, it suffocated me.
Yet this chain, it has both ends and although one end contracts upon my skin, the other, attaches to the mind and soul of that creature, it weighed heavy upon that heart, it weighs heavy upon my heart, when first they named me, when first they chained their minds.
We the things of freedom, we the indescribable, we the timeless….
It bound us then, this creatures thing…
It bound us then….
It still does
Credits: Writing: ©justme;Image:©CatrinPhoto. All rights reserved
Words, that strange expression attributed to groupings of letters, conjured, gathered, held, to form our ideas, each word lofted and championed as only of its own essence, yet tainted, turned and taunted by our own attachment.
Letters of communication, gathered under the lie of non affiliation, acclaimed as singular of meaning and affect, yet practised with the bluntness of a carving knife and the lightness of custard.
We the arbitrators uphold the system, deny the invasion and post the intricate.
Credits: Writing ©justme; Image: © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved
May you float with the wind, both high and low, may the wind always be on your back. May the road rise up to meet you and may God hold you in the palm of his hand until we meet again. May love recognise you and may you recognise love when it knocks upon your door. May you grasp it and hold it as you held it before, as a friend once distanced,once upon a time love lost you but as it lost you, so shall it find you. For it’s will is undeterred and it’s resilience unending.
Credits: Writing © justme; Image: © CatrinPhoto;
There is only one world. That is your world. No one can see as you see. Do you know if everybody sees as you see? When you see colours does everyone see the same colour as you ? When you see the colour purple does everybody see purple as you see purple ? How do you know ? Let me tell you why. You are in a dream. There is only you in the dream and everything in the dream you created. It is not who you are , you are in a dream. The things that are in your world, you created them. There is nobody else but you in the dream. Once upon a time and yet there was no time, you came to me and told me to come to you and wake you up. Now you dont remember me yet you know me. I seem familiar. All the things you have done you have done so you can sleep but you know you must not sleep too long. You have many more of me coming , you told me so. They will come so you might have life. You told me so.
Credits: writng © justme; Image @ CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved
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TOUCH YOUR DREAM
Close your eyes for dreams
For all is not as it seems
The imagined clock stands true
The silence roars to you.
Feel the beat of heart
before the dream will start
Touch your dreams with mine
Feel the dance of rhyme
Then slowly settle down
Let silence be your crown.
Then breathe as if your last
No more future, no more past.
Then slip your hand in mine
Our song it moves with time.
Let your dance be one of joy.
Of a lady and a boy.
Who dared to dream their dream.
To drift upon a mind less, endless stream.
Poem read by the author