15 Oct 2019

Tag: contemporary art

Poetry

Falling 

It isn’t necessary to be afraid of hell after death. Each and every one of us has been there already. Darkness during the sunniest of July days. Sadness among twittering bird and playing kids in the dirt. We all have been there – falling and falling with nothing to grab and stop.

Poetry

The Beginning of Spring Green 

Spring has come! The season that marks the rebirth of everything – plants, trees, animals, dreams. However, I am sitting on a stump in the forest near my favorite bubbling brook, but my eyes don’t see the river bank nor my ears hear the twitter of the birds. My mind is my all senses, I am far away… away on a beach with a wistful smile.

Poetry

It Was Just a Dream 

Dreams could be a gate to another world: beautiful and sad, magical but simple, lovely yet scary. And as much as we realise dreams are just dreams and nothing more, we keep wanting to meet them in this world full of promises and beautiful illusions.

Poetry

Seasons 

Seasons come and go, winters follow summers, and the sun dies to be reborn again. The cycle of nature is inevitable and unyielding to human conduct, and perhaps this is the reason why we find it so appealing. But oftentimes we’d like to see it broken down to pieces, so that memory could no longer tear us apart.

Poetry

Don’t Promise 

In summer, promises come easily to one’s heart, and the nights seem so long and young. They smell of love and innocence. But when the winds start blowing and howling and the night shows its teeth, promises can break as easily as glass. And amidst the shards, we see the snow washing away with its white everything that reminded us of summer.

Poetry

Storms of Injustice 

The wind is howling, yet we can hear a call coming from those who are weak. We can do something, we can change. Haven’t we done it before? Even if one of us, only one, carries the Hope within, there is still a chance that we can put an end and calm these mighty storms of injustice.

Poetry

Looking For a Promise 

Our lives are driven by promises: big and small, full of hope or forlorn determination. We tend to be so obsessed with them that sometimes we could even ruin our lives. But what this world would look like if we weren’t holding on to what had been promised to us? To what we promise?