Letting it Be.
by Blue Petal
Pre-note: I apologise for how long this is… but I do need your help. I would be really glad if I got title suggestions for this poem. It was written by my boyfriend a while back, and we only recently decided to publish his collection with his permission. I believe it only proper that we appendage the name of whomever’s title sounds as a right fit for the poem along-side it in the publication. Thanks in advance… and for taking the time to read.
Wind. Mind and illusion.
Three words of freedom and dream. Dream.
Dream and ambition.
Two words of bravery, audacity and ego.
That which labels not two words or three, or four,
Neither dream nor ambition, neither mind nor illusion,
Four words of placid bewilderment.
Of deep thought and belief, of conviction and denial,
Antonyms and metaphors. Hypothetical self-esteem,
Purely primordial imagination, prayers and chants to invisible airs,
Inferior noises to the blue skies of day, and black skies at twilight,
Compounded sequences of disturbed segments of notion,
In reposed action, flowery paradises of the future.
Ironies of reality, desperate desire and inception,
Four words of critic and mockery,
Extinct possibilities, like as melting glaciers in the winters,
Simmers of boiling emotion, freezing the ice,
Breaking the skies and pouring evils upon earth.
Desire. Desperate desire,
Needs of the soul, penumbral wishes of the body,
Vain. Dark and vain, aimless as the clouds,
Trailing the wind and erasing the silver lining,
Foundations. The origins of the genesis, the irony,
And absolute misery of rains under the sun,
Illusion. The fantasy of a wet sun, melting the clouds to create the rain,
Chimeras that the eyes can feel and the skin can see,
Figments of daydream, visions of fragmented stars,
Is it the blue in the oceans, or the skies?
Is it the green in the park, or the illusion of the mind’s eye?
Clockwork and timeless manufacture of fabrications,
Beauty inexistent, a whole new world.
That which is created in the mind, is that which is not
The action offered in the physical.
The real world.
Ego. Is all it is?
Decharacterised delusion of self,
Constructed being, that which we may not be- wind.
Airs that shred the summer leaves, that burn the rains,
Black skins in white coating, silver with a clouded lining,
Persons that we are not ready to be,
That is who we are. Non-realities.
Simulated mockeries of God’s image,
Wind. Mind and illusion.
Our minds, caught in wild illusions carried swiftly by the winds,
Carried away to a distant place in these dreams.
You are the space between my fingers
the bone from which I was formed
You are the sun in my world
the star that was reborn
You are the white of my black
the gap in my teeth
I am the book – You are the chapters
I am the page – You are the words
I am the music – the melody is Yours
I am your dark-side
I am the ache in Your throbbing heart
You are the dream that shrouds my night
I am the wrong of your right
You are the safe of fright
I am your love’s delight
I am the wind rustling your wings
I am the free in your spirit
I am the calm in the storm
I am the danger unknown
You are the light of my shadow
the portrait of my tomorrow
You are the strokes in my brush of paint
the paper boat, the paper planes
the paper boxes and paper games
You my love
ARE – 1. To be everything (to somebody)
2. To be the most important part; all that matters (as in the be-all and end-all of something)
I will never be as good as you in poetry, even if I tried
I will never be as brave as you with leadership, for that was your life
You taught me about the seven seas,
You showed me love through your eyes
You calmed the storm in me
You brought me to life
And yet we had to say goodbye, before the final goodbye
But still you clung to me, bothering me with check up calls and texts
You hung on to me even when I cared less
You called me a rock star, you did
You loved me, and us, young blood
You showed me how to lead differently
How to dream big, and do deeds
You set the pace
And yes I will miss you now that you’re flown
I will cling to teddy bear Josh every night,
For you have ruined my chance
Ruined I say with this kind of love
I wish I had loved you more
I wish I had given more, given all
I wish we had not been afraid to defy the odds
But I can never know why
All I can do is cry
Take care of my brother, will you?
I know you will, just like you did with Daniel
We’re going to take care of Tosca and Mom,
But who will take care of us now?
Say hullo to Lynda for me
I love you, I love you so much
For although I lost my faith with Joseph’s death,
I found it with yours
Epilogue: I dated Josh back in 2010 from June to August. It was beautiful, his kind of love was pure and undefiled. We did not work out because he was not ready, and neither was I, and for other reasons known to the two of us that I shall not disclose. I never stopped loving him, and that faithful friend called time healed the pain of leaving him. I pray to God that he found true love within the years after we broke up. He wrote one love poem for me in French, but never had the courage to put in on facebook. “The Blue Petal” is the poem he wrote for me, after my nick name. Rest in Peace sweet Tobin Sahib Joshua Ojok.
Further note: I decided to share it on here this places is an inspiration to me. Also I am working on a book filled with his Poems that I will be giving out free copies of in the beginning of October and would like to share with the community here.
by Blue Petal
Dreaming dreams hoping for a light,
waiting patiently for something in the night,
wanting so desperately to mean something,
to mean more than something to some one;
Dreaming of times long gone,
when winter melted into spring,
and burst into summer and fall,
when a season remained just that, a season;
But then time flew,
and we grew,
and that ends the story of me and you.
It’s the cool breeze,
as it brushes softly on your cheek
It’s the sunlight
seeping in through your window sill
It’s rain drops
pattering gently on the roof
It’s little nuances like these
when we embrace and kiss
It’s my friendship to you
and your kind gestures towards me
and I still think my love,
that you are much, much sweeter than honey!