motivation

Reasons to believe

Come a little closer and dream of oceans,
And I will be firm as a rock wasting it all
To your grand plan of whatever it is
That you hide beneath your guts.

Break out from felony of his sickness
For you were  a victim and not the master.
His slavery with words of passion is damned,
My love with only a petal is but pure.

Come a little closer and winds will shake
Into a storm, budding out cries.
‘O finally victory to thee’ the winds will sing,
My muse,  my beauty is in a million reasons to live.

Come for me Today.  Come again tomorrow.
And you will find me in nirvana with the petal
Of your love-of our love.
Come again tomorrow and smile before my grave, with grace.

I have lived an eniterity with you
Yet the search for purpose was always ingnited.
Come to the path of essence, of my fragnance,
The stars will guide you through your purpose.

Not be a slave,  not be a myth,
Neither Alexander,  nor saints did ever all lived,
Be yourself,  be your master.
Mystery is everything with answer- know the answer.

Struggling Love

Let me love the birds from within chaos,
And let nature respond good to my laugh,
The miracle of birth, the gloom of death,
Keep nothing away from the sons of hope.
Let us fly accross the stars wearing nothing,
A naked armour of tranquality in space,
Away from the human era of want and greed,
Keep nothing away from the sons of dream.
Let us mourn together in sorrow of all,
The battle that we have lost against his singularity,
Let us blame our defeat to chances and destiny,
Keep nothing away from the sons of karma.
Let us take chances and fly away north,
Dream the empire of hopes is undefeated,
Let love make this road a reality,
Keep nothing for me- I am only from humanity.

Common

It all started back in days of normality,
As it always does,
Something extraordinary or something,
Life changing happens to someone,
And people talk about it all day long.
But how would you treat an endless mind
Of thoughts and dreams created and yet again,
Shattered in frames of welcoming condolences in form of,
Another shot.
I believe each mind is capable and thus,
Each mind is noble,
We don’t have to be vigilantes against ourselves,
Maybe we could in the least try to adapt.
Human mind is a constant source of idea but,
How do we set it apart seemingly,
Sure we are engineers of future,
But are we any good enough with love of fellow humans?
It all started back in those normal days,
When I was walking along, minding my own business,
When a thought came to me,
And I put if off,
Again.
For years I have been struggling with a tag,
‘Common’ has been the word of my life,
And though each day I dream too big,
Each night I sleep alone,
Sharp at half past eight.

Rubies

Shining in my hand is the gem of prosperity or so it seems
Speaking its way out through each red reflection
As if trying to shape my fortune yet again
In honor of material possession of which I seem to have posses.
This ruby is key to life and beyond;
Only if the fatal visions could come alive again
From the past I shall seek each one of them
And let the hands run their might over the forces of evil.
As the powerful always is- wrapped in dominance
I shall lead the lives of thousands and some even more to greatness,
Then they’ll say my life will be worth it
Doing meaningful something in visionary landscape.
Who doesn’t loves fame, or, just a little recognition?
Who doesn’t want to do stuff for himself
So that people who know him feel his existence,
Women near him, take him as a honest man.
Power! That’s all what is and will ever be,
I have the ruby safe inside of my private reach
And so I am a leader today
Funny how life changes in its own way.
And in hours that pass, my usual routine followed
The struggle I did, was nowhere to be acknowledged
Turns out dreams of red rubies are as much disturbing
The life of a human is in his own great spirit.

Romance

If the romance of your art makes you restless
And breaks every possible dream of money and wealth
That any human would want,
If you are lucky enough to be chosen amongst the millions of billions
And if the path is dimly lit in its sensual aroma,
If the love of this art surpasses the love of a women
And even if it takes ages you are ready to sacrifice,
If your heart is a pious image
Within which words flicker like paper,
If your dreams are as vivid and bright
And bold as facts of someone’s life,
If the senses lure you to live
And if the path takes you to a place-
Somewhere near peace and excitement
Near life and death, near love and hatred,
If this journey that shall be too long and tearing,
Makes you feel the spirit of it,
And if the dreams you dream race your pace,
And have the guts to live,
Your world is full, you life is this,
This art you worship,
Be blessed for she only shall consume you wholly.

Soldier

Rise up dear soldier
The war is still in terms
The battle has not yet been lost
In times like such, don’t lose your faith.
Our strengths must be our teachers
Enslaving us with the thirst of triumph
Not be too kind to the defeat,
It’s disguised to your only defeat.
Must you give up here?
After all of what you’ve seen
Things worst than this
And this right here you surrender?
Soldier, O soldier come forth this darkness
Leave past your heart, break your emotions
These civilians they look upon you
You’ve much weight on your firm shoulders.
It’s all about this moment,
Come past this somehow.
The darkest of night is before the dawn,
And that is where one must not lose at all.

so you want to be a writer?

so you want to be a writer?

 by Charles Bukowski
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut,
don’t do it. if
you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.
don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and pretentious,
don’t be consumed with self- love. the libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is burning your gut,
don’t do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.