The Real You


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There is certain person
A special person
A powerful person
A beautiful person
A great person
A wise person
A mighty person
A blessed person
A wonderful person
And that person is you
Existing inside of you
And has always been part of you
The real you…

But unfortunately
You have been on the run
Running away from this special person
Sadly you have been hiding from this wonderful person
The real you…

You are afraid of this person
You cow in awe of this person
You really admire this person
You are frightened by the sheer power and potential you instinctively sense in this person
But unfortunately
You have been alienated
From this person
The real you…

Fake beliefs
Have all separated you
From this great person
The real you…

Be yourself
And remember that
You are here
Not to please anybody
Apart from your dear God

It’s time
To holistically
With your real self…



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And unending
And lurking in the heart
And lacking in the soul
A constant
And an agitated state of being
Of searching
Of reaching out
Of looking out
Of what I know not and what it is
Reigns in my realm of reality
But still
The soul yearns for it deeply
A certain and ravenous hunger
Assaults my very being
Making I restless
A hunger of something I don’t understand
Of something I have never had before
Of something I have never seen before
Nor touched before
Nor held before
But the longing is still there
A strong desire
And I instinctively know that I will understand it
Once it hits me
But until then
Restlessness rules..

Upon This Table…


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Upon this white topped table,
There lies various scribbles and doodles,
Of someone’s life story,
Of someone’s dreams,
Of someone’s trials,
Of someone’s happiness,
It is all here,
Upon this white topped table,
And some coffee spills,
Upon the scribbles and doodles,
Burning their aspirations…

This Might Be The Best Opening In Literature

Originally posted on 101 Books:

Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others, they sail forever on the horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men.

That opening from Their Eyes Were Watching God is one of the best openings in literature.

The rhythm and pacing of ZNH’s sentences, the truthfulness and conviction in what she’s saying. It’s just a beautiful opening, I think.

And it sets the stage for the entire novel, along with this second paragraph.

Now, women forget all the things they don’t want to remember, and remember all the things they don’t want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.

Quite a contrast of description in those two opening paragraphs.


View original 27 more words

A Glass Of Wine

You create such enchanting evenings,
While lounging in a lazy evening still holding you in my hand,
Watching the sun bow down to gods of the night,
While you taste my lips with your mellow kisses,
And I pay tribute the spirits of our forefathers,
Who lived in better days and gave birth to this private moment…

Ah. Dear glass of wine,
How you seduce I,
Drawing my wanton desires,
Firing my imagination,
Holding me closer to your erotic bosom,
And claiming my thoughts,
Heady mists of your love,
Breathes my very soul,
Tendrils of lost moments,
Trails a warm path in this heart…

You dear glass of wine of mine,
Don’t whisper to my stupid ears,
That you are leaving,
Leaving so early in the night,
Let me lie in your bourdon,
And make sweet memories come alive,
Let me hold you closer,
And whisper risqué humour,
And mouth naughty odes,
To your open lips dear wine glass…

One glass,
Two glasses,
Three glasses,
Four glasses,
Five glasses,
And the story is complete,
Our delicate story,

Tell me dear wine glass,
Who is fooling who?


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