Procastinate

I take a look at the clock

And think of the time I have to spare.

I push all my deadlines aside

And rest in my blue armchair.

Tick Tock

The clock keeps ticking,

As the deadlines come closer.

Just a few more hours,

I promise the fun will be over.

Tick Tock

Beating rapidly, my heart

wakes me from my sleep.

The deadlines are now dead.

With guilt I wearily weep.

Tick Tock

I take a look at the clock

With bitter and vile hate.

Oh! How I wish that

I do not procrastinate.

-m.m.jan

My Beautiful Palace

A beautiful palace

I called my second home.

For years and years

In its wonders I would roam.

The time would come

When I was forced to leave.

The thought of that heart aching day

Each time would make me grieve.

Immoral souls this year

Took me by surprise

As they dominated the beautiful palace

And destroyed it with their lies.

The palace lost its beauty

As I lost all my spark.

The evil souls resumed their doings.

The palace grew so dark.

Destroying all remains,

The ugly souls had won.

I grew distant from the castle,

Waiting to leave everyone.

My time has now come,

And now I depart to rest.

For once, I am detached from the palace.

Perhaps it is for the best.

-m.m.jan

Pass

You wish to grab a meal together

And act like nothing occurred?

During the past months of ungrateful encounters

A day without seeing you is what I’ve always preferred.

Vile and Vain

It took me years to figure out

My toxic friends’ whereabouts.

A few more months to settle down,

I realized they were all around.

Lies, deceits, and their wicked traces

Destroy and ruin all beautiful places.

With smiles so broad, yet are vile and vain,

Seeing them causes the world so much pain.

Passion to Pressure

You cannot force inspiration to appear at anytime you desire. It is a powerful sudden force that awakens the artistic spirit from a rested slumber. Our world seems to cease from the lack of it because we get frustrated and disappointed too easily.

Inspiration is what drives us to create, and creativity is what adds value to our lives.

It is unrealistic to set ourselves large goals of completing tasks that require inspiration.

How can you commit to your goal of reading one book per week? How do you plan to write in your journal every morning? What about your goal of drawing every Saturday?

I learned this lesson the hard way. I set myself reminders on my phone to write one poem every single day. Of course, I wasn’t able to stick to my desire. I had no ideas, no motivation, and absolutely no inspiration to write. I soon realized that by forcing myself to write, I turned my hobby into a task I was required to do, which took the fun out of doing it anymore. I felt extremely disappointed in myself for not completing the strict goals I set, but I understood that creativity was never meant to be forced in the first place.

If you’re stuck in a writing block, a reading slump, or even a phase that lacks the inspiration you need to proceed, take all the time you need to recover. Understand that you cannot always practice the hobbies you love, no matter how much you love them. Keep your mind positive and your soul hopeful, because who knows? the lack of inspiration might be able to inspire you.

Nestled in Nature

I am cradled by the sand

As the waves rock me to sleep.

Gentle raindrops fall from the sky

And place kisses upon my cheek.

The wind caresses my hair so softly,

In a tender, loving way.

While the clouds huddle and form for me,

A sky so full of grey.

A fire emerges so tame yet mighty,

To keep my body heated.

The elements all come together.

For once, I am completed.

-m.m.jan

Euphoric

I am moved into a state so unique. The beat moves my body somewhere, while the lyrics take my mind someplace else. Blood rushes through my veins as I am deeply engulfed into a wondrous sensation. I feel every bit of the song on my skin. My closed eyes focus on my heart, as its beat harmonizes in perfect unison with the music. I listen closely, fearful of missing a sound, a note, or a lyric. I lose myself into a song as my thoughts enclose around it. Breathing it in so carefully, my mind enters a state of serenity. The music allows me to release my emotions, so I release every emotion held within. A tingling feeling travels down my spine as goosebumps emerge all over my skin. My head is swaying softly to the subtle sound of the music as I sense my lips curling into a smile. For a few minutes, the world is a careless and perfect place.

Beauty and the Beach

Just from one simple glance at the cool water, I genuinely feel a rush of adrenaline spreading throughout my whole body, from the top of my head causing a breezy chill running down my spine, till the tips of my toes.

I hear a loud voice in my head pleading and persuading me to “jump into the water,” so I do. My soul immediately disconnects from my body. I fall into infinity. Nothing but cold, crystal clear water engulfing me from all around. The ocean blurs my vision, a precaution in an attempt to prevent all of its secrets from being revealed. The attempt succeeds every time, no one shall have any knowledge of the wonders that lay untold.

And then there is the golden sand. Warm and toasty it melts away the burdens off my shoulders, if only for a short while. I lie down in the sun and sleep for hours, the beautiful waves crashing into the shore is my favorite song stuck in an everlasting replay. The waves blow their universal antidote into the air, I breathe it in deeply and smile as I physically feel it healing my body, my mind, and my soul. My lungs also expand in relief, allowing that fresh salty air to run through my blood. My heart smiles as well, a cozy and unique feeling is felt right inside of me.

I avoid picking up my novel to read, for reading allows me to escape reality. And for this one time only, reality is the better choice. I am alone, but I am not. My lover asks me to dance to the music emitted from its waves. I dance. I twirl and I twirl under the evening sun, under the purple sky, under the cloudless sight. My curly hair is untied and it is flowing wondrously as I dance gracefully with my lover. I pick up fistfuls of sands and laugh as I twirl. And for one magical moment, everything is moving in unison: my body, my hair, and the grains of sands breaking free from my grip to return to where they belong.  I dance until my legs are sore. The sand kindly offers me a seat and I take it.

I stare for what seems like eternity at the majestic appearance of my lover. The sky darkens, stars slowly begin to appear, and my lover glows brilliantly under the moonlight. I light a small fire to warm my body from the chilly weather. I then think about the world in a deep conversation with my lover. As the hours go by I grow tired and sleepy. My skin is sun-kissed and smooth, a goodbye kiss from my lover, the beach. Every time I try to leave, the waves cry loudly, begging me to stay a little longer.

“If only,” I whisper to the waves. “If only I could be with you forever my lover.”

As my last footprint is left in the sand, I make a quick last glance at the picturesque scene of miracles.

I promise my lover a return.

Hoax

The masks have been uplifted.

Their faces now revealed.

From years of lying uncovered,

The truth is no longer concealed.

Like jesters they have fooled

All those around.

Deceiving and deluding,

While dreaming of the Crown.

The veracity of their being

Was none other than to seem faultless.

The irony still remains,

As do the sins they do not confess.

-m.m.jan

A Final Farewell

I saw it coming, but I never expected it to happen this soon. Time has been a great friend, a friend who showed me the reality of our situation. I realized how we strove to create something beautiful out of people that were never meant to be. I understand that it is a late realization, but perhaps it is the best time to realize. We all are too different, to an extent where we do not belong together. They say that opposites attract, but please understand that we are people and not magnets. Thank you for all the beautiful memories.

Farewell.

Deception

With empty promises you fill me

As my patience seems to lessen.

You taught me to endure my sorrow,

A cruel and hurtful lesson.

The “tomorrow” you speak of

Isn’t the tomorrow we know.

As days turn into weeks then months,

Years pass by and go.

Still clinging onto your words,

My arms turn numb and weak.

I dream about the future

And the answers I shall seek.

My knuckles are white and my fingers are sore

From holding onto the vain words I had high hopes for.

I was taught to focus on the future lying ahead.

From hanging onto your words for too long,

Both my hands have bled.

-m.m.jan