Passing it on all along

Following traits down memory lane,
broken bits and pieces of memories bubbled up
out of the long gone sight, out of the unconscious mind;
spinning round and round.

Flashing by were thousands of faces,
a compilation of the loved, missed, forgotten and unknown
originated from the lost-and-found box;
stirring the past up to present.

So much was on and off the track,
yet entwined together like a bunch of tangled knots -
a master interweave of joy and despair,
extending its way down to the end.

Irreversible. The tangled could not be untangled,
for what had been done was done,
done in the past and also the future,
retrieval could only be made possible in vain imaginations.

And none could pass on further, without
passing on the bottled essence of the antecedent
to the subsequent, on and on;
all along the ever-extending memory lane.



Credit: Alison Scarpulla

The spells of summer

No one knows the moment summer begins slipping in;
no sound is made,
no trace is left,
all done with merely anything being undone.

Realization of its arrival only comes upon
when senses are fully arrested,
by a sudden urge, to submit and surrender
to the dazzling sun, to the cloudless sky.

And soon as the last defense is abandoned,
summer officially reigns all over,
in and out; flooding all over the soul,
and unlocks the deepest desire.

Leaving feelings so naked and raw,
shadowless under the sun, everything melts away
into the heat, into the ultimate form of intoxication.
All lost in spells.

No one knows the moment summer begins slipping in;
no sound is made,
no trace is left,
all done with everything being undone.

credit: Alex Freund

And here comes the loneliness

Somehow loneliness has circled its way back
again; back to the old start,
back to the old end,
weaving a chain of interlocking causality.

Thought it had melt into the daunting past,
vanished off the existing memory
and left days good as prayed;
but never seemed to realize.

Secretly the sense of strangeness steals in
bit by bit; forming cracks on the outershell,
and pulling down all defenses,
in the wait, to overthrow the core once more.

This stale state of bareness lasts
days and days; washes out all the colours into
grey, the new colour of the world,
and abandon the others in the lost memory.

And all that has left is the willingness to accept it,
letting pieces of everything fades away,
in the last hope of being granted
a return of the long-awaited dawn.


inspiration: few days of loneliness, a runaway bus trip and too many cups of milk

credit: David bellemere, Sebastian Faena, chat noir on 1x.com, numero fr,

Tales of fate.

Never knows where fate leads,
be it a step forward, a step backward,
or a sharp sudden twist;
all buried deep down under.

As soon as time commands,
exfoliating myths off from each wrapped tale,
the journey begins to take flight;
the true first flight.

It steals darkness from the night,
introduces thunderstrom through the sunshine,
and pushes one between joy and despair
til the journey end is met.

Tumbling as it could be,
any forms of denial shall bring no ends
nor exemptions; for all bits
are designated gifts and blessings.


Credits: Elina Kechicheva

More.

Wonder since when, asking for more had become
the new cult; spreading to all the possibles
without a trace and, corrupted them with more
till everyone turned into a host.

Unstoppable. The spreading had long gone beyond
the stop, more and more were in;
at a rate exceeding the growth of lawn
after the first rain in spring.

Pointless of glancing back now, the deadly claw
has already sprawled into minds,
and spread roots down to the core;
paving for the big final.

Could be soon, could be never,
for the coming of the final judgement day;
yet, the tale of truth reads - the later its arrival,
the more will be undone.

Inspiration: the ever-growing desire well of people.


credits: David Bellemere

The only face.

Over the sea of faces,
I spot yours.

Popping in and out from nowhere,
I find yours.

Washes others' lights out,
I fascinate yours.

Solely lightens mine up,
I heart yours.

One and the only,
I am yours.


credits: jadedyetlovely@Xanga, Louis Vuitton, Alex Freund, hoppipook@ blogspot ,battymaddie

All long-awaited

Have been travelling alone for too long;
too long, to recall the day started,
the distant starting point and, locate
the land that used to come close in dreams.

Colours seem to be weathered down,
layer by layer along the route -
peeling off the glamorous shell and
exposes the monochrome core.

Slowly, adapts to this new vacancy;
so bare and raw, as if it has always been
hiding within, anticipating the moment
to break the thin shell.

Fear sets in; strikes the long-believed truth
like a thunderstorm and bubbles out
chains of doubts, extending
all the way towards the remote land?

This journey was, perhaps, long planned
by an invisible hand; nothing can be done
besides swanning around this single path,
wait till, a hand joins in.

chadwicktyler, TFS, Vogue italia, james mahon

Happy Valentine's Day!

Enjoy this beautiful day everyone :)
agnes xx


mixnmatch.blogg.se

The backward step

Promised with a change,
mind exchanges at a cross road;
alternating thoughts and shifts
on a blurry ground.

Flushing in and out the paths are,
waves of quiet passerby,
the two walls of water on either hand;
sinking in blue.

As diverged as they appear to be,
yet, unusually paralleled -
loading carriages of disoriented bodies
along the identical broken trials.

As if, a curved mirrior is placed within:
specularly reflects the hidden unconsciousness,
and bounces back and forth all along;
an explicit exposure of the naked truth.


The once determined mind now hesitates,
ceases to take steps forward but backward :
an attempt to brighter ends,
while standing firm on a crystal clear ground.

All comes to the end, lastly;
no more twins flow,
no more blind running
in this brave new road.

credits: Marianne Schroder, pbo31@flickr, Paco_for_peace@flickr, honeypieliving@flickr, hrefan Bjorg@flickr, Sebastian Kim@ jedroot.com


P.S Some of you questioned about my absence in this blog for the past few months, well, that was because i put almost all my time in school stuff (university isn't as easy as expected). anyway, I am going to do more blogging this semester. I could never forget this lovely place.

xx agnes