Of Wishes &Taboos...

And I'm back again...this time courtesy of the plain will to write down a journal and not the characteristic flow and all.

What shocks me is the nature of my inspiration; thinking I have so much to paint on my canvas, then not knowing what strokes my brush should take once the paint kisses the bristles. Sounds like a daunting task but it's really just about the people I've met the past few days. I might be waxing emotional as well, but I now believe delving into the depth of these very emotions is the ultimate measure of the impact people who walk through our lives leave in us.

Like I said, it's true that from this awesome conference I've been on (I believe I 'forgot' to mention this) I carry home with me more than my suitcase and backpack. What I have is that inevitible hangdown, but most importantly, the knowledge that I'm a single piece in a jigsaw puzzle that can only be completed by very different people from different parts of the globe (with a few pointers from a neighbouring galaxy, I can bet you). And that is what i had my 'new' wish built on.

Just for the record, I make afew wishes every now and then using the most 'fairy-friendly' techniques and mythical procedures that suite the situation at any one time. So this time, I still did it, only I also want to break the no. 1 taboo in the book of Wish Making: never disclose what you wished for. And the reason I shall disclose what it was is pretty simple; they never come true if I keep them to myself anyway!

So this new wish in the old town of Heidelberg, after tossing a coin backward into a fountain (go ahead and try it, it might work for you) was that this hug puzzle be completed. I donn't know how or when, but I believe impossible is nothing (pun intended). But because my wish backs me up, what I believe isn't really that important. What the question really is, is do YOU have hope in your wishes?

MY PEN WROTE A WILL

My pen wrote a will and bequeathed me all it would ever write
Left to me, birthright, stared at my left hand thinking it could never write.
But I wasn't right because my bequest was too much for my right.
It glided on the sheet beneath it, drained more life from within, it
Said of my obtrusive nature it throws flak on my back
And though intrusive to my stature, it's got to rebuke me for that.
It reminded me what it had always told me to do; reach for the stars
Thus precipitating thoughts of me being the first poet in Mars
Unconceivable? That's why this art is something out of this earth.
It gave me the ability to circumnavigate the globe with one line
Like latitude and be 'ub-ink-uitous' like a North-South longitude
Omni-paper, its modus operandi, always present on every paper.
It bled black and thus on this will, letters left from its serum
Waltzed on its nib thinking it was doing headspins on its cranium
Then through an incision in my forefinger it poisoned my cerebrum.
Started thinking how I'd die for my pen, then everything went silent
...for a minute thought I was dead and then before dying, my pen
Scribbled down that it felt like a pharaoh
Because these here words, would be immortal.

HOPE YOU GET THIS...

I am afraid of the dark but not if it's you that'll appear,
I never really said goodbye when you left me here,
I think about the man I wouldn't be without you,
then I'm only more grateful than sombre, that I had you.
I'm grown, because you were, thus,
You're gone but I am glad you were, once.

Though I can't help but wonder...
Is your soul in peace, feet on the table, or are you still with me in the world through all my troubles?
I wrote this for you, is it what you'd want to see or will I wake up to find my poem corrected in your calligraphy?
Are you in my room in the dark when my drapes groove, are you gently whispering 'Samoga' waiting for me to look at you?

I didn't cry enough, but it's good that I still have you in me,
in tears so anytime I miss you I lock myself in my room, crying.
You left too soon, so much we didn't do,
I'll never let you part, you are always, always, in my heart.

R.I.P. Edwin

Couldn't stop the clock...

Ok. No, seriously. You know when you've been away for a while, a very long, long while, you wish time hadn't moved so so much wouldn't have changed (I know I do!). Alot's happened, heck I don't even wanna be called poet these days. Now don't get it twisted, not that I have lost my braiding ways with my pen, far from that. I just think I haven't graduated. I'm still thinking hard about this one. That's a poem for another day...
Part of why I've been M.I.A. is because I decided I should write more than I type. Hence I ain't posted a line or two in the past eeeh....few months.
Ok. Now since I couldn't do nothing with the time, lets just call it a post. In the words of Dilated Peeps...Back Again!!!