Transition (poetry)

Bubbles rise, burst, dissolve
After such a quick life
They exist no more
Just a faint ripple

A memory perturbing,

Those new bubbles
Themselves quickly rising
Quickly bursting
Quickly existing no longer

Nothing but a ripple


Deep inside those memories
That don’t float down the stream of our minds
Until after we truly know the imperfections of life
Until after we truly know the pure depths of sorrow
Deep inside these memories
Showered by our tears
Grown by the nurturing warmth of our despair

Forgotten, lost, and forever gone
A flower may bloom
A reminder that yes, beauty, she is real
That even after sorrow
Still, a flower can bloom
And a flower once appreciated

It does not fade
It does now wilt
It stays in bloom forever
Deep inside those memories
Whose ephemeral wonder

Live in our minds forever


Lost in this doleful garden we call our mind
A slave to those scents rising from the flowers of life
Powerless to stop the chain that links that arbitrary scent
With some distant memory
Either poignant or sad
Uplifting or melancholic
A forced arising in my mind
Like to hear that sound on the verge of the periphery
Which sounds so much like a sweet name calling
From a loving mother
That’s gone unheard for decades
That’s gone un-thought for many lives
Yet, here, the flower blooms
And its scent suddenly comes
Unwittingly, we smell these pretty little nothings
Not giving the action, indeed any action
The seriousness it deserves
Unwittingly we are brought back in time
To a time that is unreal
To a time when things were different then they are
How nice that memory of my mother
How sweet it makes me smile
And how long ago it was that such sweetness was so common
Oh, but that just a single drop in waterfall
Striking me bodily
Drowning me under the weight of a voluptiously lived life
Oh, stop, stop, stop
May the past sleep quietly
May those horrors I have stop haunting
May the past beauties stop forcing me to question the future
The weakness of humanity has an answer to the forever stream of memory
Surely, this is simply an escape
The right answer is to master the waterfall
To swim in its torrid waters
To be the true summation of all these disparities
Which are the hallmark of an angelic life
Yet, the scents coming from this garden
They do not live in the world of rationale
They operate much like a dream
It is not decipherable in words
What poignancy these dreams have
It is the language of atmosphere
Of  that arbitrary fear of the night
And that captivating wonder

Of forever loveliness
Sometimes, a scent may come from this garden
And to truly interact with it
To understand the intricacies that saturate its saturated essence
Would take that same impossible person who we were
At this memories creation
To truly do this
We must devolve, revolve, dissolve this person we are
To be the person we are not anymore
Perhaps this could be wonderful
This could be the way to live a meaningful life
That bane: human weakness
Forcing me doubt at the peak of a cliff
So assured that yes, I can undergo metamorphosis midjump
I can become that angelic bird that can fly through these memories
Yet fear of the unknown
That wiggling creature: doubt
And human weakness breaks me down
And like all those other lost souls
So close to a true calling
A true resonance
We renounce the embracement of the magic of this garden
We choose to forget
To ignore
The lives we’ve already lived
The wonders we’ve already seen
The universes that exist nowhere
Except in those invisible voids
Deep in our mind
That we refuse to illuminate
Afraid of awakening ghouls
When really there is only treasure


Things change
Fall apart
Come undone
The strong brick wall crumbles
Becomes dust
And those wonders it supported
Those who depended on it for protection
All turn to dust with the wall
Sad? Yes
Tragic? Yes
One cannot blame the wall for aging
For falling victim to that benevolent mistress
She captures us all
Simply remember
All that you have right now
The life you lead
The people you love
The happiness you glide through
And those sorrows you weep through
They will all be gone
They will all be gone forever
All that you, you, truly have
Is this sand quickly falling through your hands
The hour glass escaping the confines of your fingers
Don’t chase what is impossible to capture
Just enjoy that sweetness running through your hands
While it still runs through your hands


Leave a Reply