Lioness's Lair - Tumblr Posts

Duality

Two forces, battling in mind.

The actions I have taken,

The actions I have yet to undertake.

Emotions that have run wild,

At last a chance to breathe.

I am enlightened, I am blissful.

The road ahead is dangerous,

The fire of my mind is equally so.

I am indecisive.

Mountain Thoughts

And I’m running - running free

The rocky ground stings my feet

But the wind runs with me

And we’re racing - racing

through trees and sunlight filters down

We’re racing through the river, racing 

Over the down

Through the bushes and up the mountain, 

Finally there is peace.

The stillness spreads as I collapse

The only sound my breathing

And the rush of blood pumping in my ears.

I close my eyes. 

The bush moves with the wind

There are birds - their tone

Unique to this place.

The insects let me know they’re there too.

And I can just hear the mountain spring.

And suddenly there is sound

And I’m singing and it’s bursting from me, 

like an opera that I didn’t know I’d written.

But it’s a lullaby, a haunting song.

It’s the words that I’d forgotten to say,

It’s the book I’d read, The person I’d met,

It’s the frustration at not being alone.

It’s the sudden loss of something, 

The sudden richness of something new,

and it is the confusing balance in between.

I feel

Like dancing

On the breeze.

3am

Words fly through my brain like disembodied shadows through a lightning storm.

What could have been, what should have been, what might have been had I been there.

And my heart bursts with sudden overflowing joy

And I'm left to pick up the pieces.

What is the meaning behind anything?

The subtle play of emotions across a face.

My own face.

Immortalised in my memory - furrowed brow and harsh mouth as I focus.

I am overcome with emotion, surging through my hands like a tidal wave, forging a memory etched in keys and never ending, an hour long soliloquy. An opera with many acts, flying between pillars, this is the highest high and the utmost low.

Seeing double, maybe it's time I shut off my brain and sleep.

Purple mountains in February

Purple mountains

Purple summers, purple haze

Peppered with fir green trees

But some days

All I see is

Grey and brown sludge.

An endless circle.

History.

Shadows

Of blood

And hope

Of violence

And resistance

Guilt

And fear

Unity

Amongst the opposing

We all bleed

Cold blocks of stone

That the future may learn from the past

An endless circle

Like an unbitten donut

We carry on hating

We carry on hoping

And making

The same

Mistakes.

Shadowland.

Wasteland.

Shadows of a once lively city.

A blank canvas

Upon which

We die.

The cracked stone

Is in pieces before us.

An endless road

Stretch far and wide.

Fly me into the horizon

To disappear.

Conflicted.

Reflection

Like a balm over my soul.

The justful one

Seeks to acknowledge hurt.

The rustling trees

Are a sound of comfort and

Whisper

To me

Of loneliness

In a place

Populated

By many.

In the North of the South

Scattered

Like daisies tentatively occupying a field

The jacaranda trees.

Purple and green

Lavender, lilac, lime and forest

You don't see the life

Until you look closer.

Questions I don't know

Dark depths

Scratch the surface.

Inadequate.

Unqualified.

Waiting

For external validation.

So that when

The emptiness inside returns,

There is comfort

In capability.

Invisible pain

Almost not there

Until it is.

Hitting you in the face like a truckload of bricks.

Visible pain

Suddenly there is help

Always help

Unless they despise you.

Do they despise me?

I feel it sometimes.

A frustration with my inner struggles even as I rage against theirs.

And their outward manifestations.

Words.

Flow through my fingers like debris that was clogging up a stream.

Leap out of my mouth like impatient frogs

Hurriedly, too quickly, halt.

I am speechless.

Searching for answers to questions I don't know.

Alive.

Solidarity.

Innocence.

I dive through the warm water.

A loving cat,

A friend so close.

Fleeting touches

Reach out through space.

Step out of the fog

That clouded my mind.

For obstacles

Are not endings.

And persistence

Will keep you alive.

Hope.

Hope.

Stand alone amongst the trees.

New and old

A fascinating discovery.

I know.

That I will not remember

The details.

But always

The feeling

Will stay.

Pain.

The pain is a dull, low ache.

It may fade with brief excitement

But it never leaves.

They sympathise,

But to understand,

I must stand and explain.

And explain

What is not visible

What is not seen.

You would not think

A mere fall

Could resound and rebound,

Like a marble in an empty tub

Being shaken.

In sleep.

Angled cheekbones,

Narrow jaw.

Lips, even in sleep, etched in a smile.

She walks her path

With determination and resolve.

Shining brightly so as to show others the way.

No grey could dull her colourful presence.

No colour could outshine her.

A frustration and a persistence - she keeps her loving smile.

Dilemma boy

Dilemma boy

Provokes just to watch the chaos.

He breathes

And notices his surroundings.

A calmer mind

Speads calm and clearheadedness.

But do not abandon

Your own resolve.

Protect.

I want to wrap you up

In my arms.

Protect you from all harm.

Not let you feel

The sad I've felt.

To let you go

Fall on your face

A broken nose

Mentally berate

Do I let you go?

I have to let you go.

I'm with you when you go.

02:19am.

When will I sleep? The hours drag on as I tire of my book. My music haunts me - the sweet relaxing sounds only provoking my restless creative energy. It's their birthday tommorow. Expectations crowd in again, like aunts and uncles towering over your shoulders. But they are invisible. And I am painted. Orange and blue and straining to climb over the vine covering the stone wall that guards the tower. She lives. She flies on open skies across the vast world. Over and beyond the temperamental sea and the Moody grey cliffs. Where lonely gulls cry and scream in abject misery. And somewhere, there is a donkey climbing a hill. Significant only to one. Who finds metaphors in everything. Where is the highlighter, and what is important? Why why do deadlines creep and sneak? We deck them in a colourful array and yet they are the unseen stage hands, hidden daggers and sharpened pens. Bloody ink strewn accros the field. A single yellow daffodil. How poetic. How disgusting. The taste of words is licorice and salt. On with the hail, I say!

Shared pride.

Tangible rhythm and flow.

Electric excitement as the passion grows.

Rejoice in our pride

Different races feel the same suffering

The same joy

Hilarity, laughter.

I touch the rhythm and fly with the tune

We rejoice in our own shared pride

Electric excitement zooms through the room

Each one with something to hide.

We feel the suffering, the joy, the laughter,

Of a tale of not too long ago.

She spins a tale of sorrow

She weaves a story of political insanity.

And through it all, the theme:

To my home I could not go.

But the theater is alive with people

As we reminisce on not too long ago

And not far away, it was here!

Not too long ago

And it's ominous, and we cry

But we are on our feet, dancing

- they were tears of stubborn joy!

But I wonder, how, not too long ago

One would turn against another

And brothers would become foes.

There is a waterfall of sadness

In the single tear I shed

But I think on what she said,

It's not over yet.

Journey

She walks in emotions.

A frustrating journey

Of holding on yet letting go.

Where thoughts run wild and imagination soars

Like ever reaching trees stretched towards the sky.

Mind is fuzzy, thoughts are muffled, the muzzled demon sings

In the debris of endless rubble, where do the plants grow?

I wish I were a muse

That I might inspire works of ages

That I might see, and create, and be created.

I wish I saw the world

In stark black and white

With shades of grey notwithstanding.

I wish I were a tree

That I may peacefully settle

Among my brethren.