The Confidential Confession

Piece by piece

Life is a series of moments

Linked

inter-chained

All somehow leading into each other

A moment is unique

a unit of time

always redefined

They do not merge

Enjoy every moment like a breath of fresh air

Yet the moment now is a consequence of the last one

Block to block

colored differently

You build yourself

Every decision you take changes the next

piece by piece you build life

your life

the life around you

and somehow slowly the ones of the people you surround

its wonderful

colorful

eventful

it leaves me breathless

to think of what lead me here

and you there

life is a mystery

undefinable

uncontainable

uncontrollable

and here we are building a tower of boxes which we will remember

when we are elder

when we have lived life fully

when we can look back and admire our achievements

piece by piece

 Bambi

 This is a promise dear one, when you are down, lying awake, when you cant hold the weight, when you cant catch a break.. I will build you piece by piece 

Live it up

tear me apart

watch me fall apart

live life like you gave up

you sometimes act like you have

why time to time you do?

from time to time you feel

like the rays of a sun

out shining

fighting the grey of clouds

visible from time to time

here and there

there and here

 so the brightness may be hidden

only some days you are blinding

some days you are warm

others, we see you yet unfelt

the clearest days of winter

the nicest days of the cold weather

traitorous

selfish

you chose your days

you chose your temper

you are blinding from time to time

you move from sky to sky

leaving empty hearts

dark nights

some miss you

some wish for you

others rather live at night, such is life

save me

do you care?

for the empty skies

you leave behind

for the bright lies

 watch the world go by

you travel so

here you go

from reality to fantasy

and back again

scenery to scenery

yet you are stable somehow

similar motion

always in a cycle

ever so changing

yet never really different

 you burn so intensely

shine so passionately

do you care for the ones who wish upon you?

here and there you crossed a moon

one you desire

one you touch delicately

you care so deeply you want it to shine

shine as vividly as you

and so you give yourself

ray by ray

yet the moon is cold

colder than the earth

it needs you not

desires you not

cares not for your warmth

why do you keep shining for others

you are seen through your efforts

not for them

earthlings look in the skies at night

see only your other

you shine stronger

your light goes deeper

yet another

there is no light in a crater

save yourself

save me

don't shine too bright

your heart is unstable

any loop of fire

would destroy all gravity

yet you are passionate dear one

 save me

tear me apart

watch me fall apart

but don't let go

don't let the fire stop

the sky dark

and the night bring us apart

you see, you are me

and I am you

the time of day is not important

the scenery unimportant

the deepest craters of the moon irrelevant

shine as you pass

shine on your days

I can accept rain

through rain we observe rainbows

I live your absence

rest my eyes

you need not to be explained

need not to be excused

you are what you are

feel what you feel

control your fire

let go of your heart

see every temperature is necessary

for is reality

let your envies trigger you

temptations take you

let life guide you

take it day by day

you deserve to enjoy every moments of the sweet seasons

let the moon be

let it shine by itself

let it live in your shadow

don't wait for it tomorrow

I know

its a beauty

let it be

let me jump on your back and ride to tomorrow

let me be your light

make light of the day

when you tried to run away

yet you are needed

you are the sunlight

colors are from you

sight because of you

inspire others to see

live

shine through the musky skies

burn on the summer days

let your passion take you

and bring me with you

take me there

everywhere

 Bambi

The beauty of spring can surprise the rustiest of souls. The sun out after a long winter. The warmth of the moist air complimented by the gentle cool of the breeze of mid-April.

"Honey, hurry we will be late for our first visit!"

That's my wife Margaret. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on. Her long black curls compliment her gorgeous chestnut eyes. Her eyes always seem to shine so bright. I got married a few months ago and I've never been so happy, not even my first marriage left me feeling this bubbly, not at any moment.

"I'm coming down my love."

They left the apartment that afternoon excited as newly weds could be. They got to the address they had took the time to note down on a piece of paper. They stepped out of the car to meet the real estate agent, Tommy, who was waiting for them patiently at the door. Exactly at 2:30pm. The visit began.

The living room was spacious, perfect for a piano or perhaps children f life went that way for them. Not bad of a color too, perhaps they wouldn't even have to repaint.

The kitchen pleased him even more. It was magnificent! Perfect for him, he loved cooking. As a chef the kitchen was most important. And his sweet love could even join him in his culinary adventures. A beautiful counter. He could put a tall bistro set in the corner, a painting on that wall. It would be perfect for parties too. Both grew excited already, how fitting could this house be to their desires and needs. Would they have already found the house on the first try?

Next room was the washroom. Tommy seemed particularly proud of that one. Margaret went in first and she let out a gentle sigh. She loved it, it was vintage. She was in love with the retro look and the vintage bathtub on legs. It had a big decorative mirror and it had such a  peaceful ambiance. She turned to her husband with excitement.

I knew it right then and there, this could be the one. This could be more than a house it could e our home.

The last room  to visit was the master's bedroom. I entered the room first. His mind suddenly went blank. He stood at the entrance empty-minded yet the feeling he felt was so dense, he could barely stand. So dense he could barely keep his eyes open. His heart was pounding. Yet he was so empty, drenched. The room was filled yet empty. The wardrobe was huge, a nice walking-in, Margaret noticed. He saw nothing, he felt everything. It was dark for a closet with a light inside. There was a grand window letting the sun in, giving light to the room, yet not enough light to him. It was so dark. He felt trapped. The air was so heavy, he could not breath. Margaret was twirling in delight in front of him. It all appeared slower than it should have. He couldn't see her, he saw a figure. He couldn't see the window, his whole life was but a blur.

"Do you see it daddy?"

"What darling?"

The child pointed at the top of the tree. Where a small ribbon was prancing mockingly in the wind. A bright orange ribbon. It appeared to have flown there by mistake. The branches seemed to have caught it, it had no escape.

"What about it dear?"

"One day daddy, I'll climb and catch it!"

"No love, it's dangerous. I don't want you climbing trees, understood?"

"But it's pretty." The child pleaded.

"Understood?" His tone of voice raised.

"Okay then I'll be very patient and one day the tree will give it to me. When he thinks I'm old enough he will give it, right daddy?"

"Absolutely pumpkin pie, he will give it to you when you are ready."

The orange was so bright and the reflection of the afternoon sun made it even more vive. The little girl stared at it in wonder. It's delicate ways of moving, it was a graceful dance. One she so dearly wanted to learn. One day, one day if she was patient enough.

Every day she passed by the tree and took a moment to admire it. It was always beautiful. In the storms when its dance was agitated and furious. In the rain when its allure was beautifully tragic. In the sun, its brightness. The orange ribbon was dancing, might it be held by the branches, it danced away.

Every day for a year the little girl and her father walked by the pretty ribbon, on the way home, from school.  She waited patiently, but the day never came. She was never ready. She asked her father almost every time if he would go ad get it for her. But it was dangerous and he would not. She was not ready to climb all the way up herself and get it, either. And so she thought of solutions that never worked.

The little girl eventually grew into a young woman and forgot about the ribbon, yet sometimes the corner of her eyes catch a glimpse of where the ribbon once was. It had disappeared with time. She could imagine the gentle choreography it once made as the wind embraced its delicate tissue. She imagined the wind had token the ribbon on a beautiful journey, somewhere mysterious. Somewhere where its beauty and it's bold color would bring a smile to someone, perhaps to many.

One rainy day she went back home to her father. She saw him sitting on the chair near the fireplace. His body was limp and heavy. He had fallen very ill however, today was the worst day by far. She went by his side to tend to him as she would every day. She held back the tears as she saw the look in his eyes. She knew that day would come. She begged for it not to come, never to come. She could not let go, he simply could not leave. He was young and she was all alone.

The weak man tried his best to sit up.

"Don't daddy, you're going to hurt yourself. Stay still I'll take you to your bed. Silly man always moving when you shouldn't be walking."

It brought pain to his heart to hear the breaking of her voice and to see the dampness of her cheeks. When she tried to help him up he shook her hand off gently. He took her left hand and held it tight. She looked up from her father's hand to her father's eyes and she saw. She saw the dawn of day and the twilight of night. She saw timeless unconditional love, and there it was. A tear announcing time. It was time, and in her hand he placed an orange ribbon.

 Copyrights to Bambi

"In order to go fast, go alone. To go far, go together. In order to go many places, don't be attached."

(Nguyen The-Tin)

 How dear you are to me

How beautiful your mind and heart

How true your words

I fell in love one day

With travels and the world

One day you became my world

One day I left

Your world and mine collide

We don't walk the same earth

We don't talk the same language

We don't come from the same culture

We always were from different worlds altogether

One day long ago

I had a glimpse of your reality

Friend how funny is our story

How I miss my fantasy

Who used to be reality

Yet our stories began

Collided

And finally parted

I wish you well dear friend

Write for yourself a story worth royalty

A story alike no other

With tales of adventure

Dear one

Write so I can read the sweetness of your nature

With the bitter taste of nostalgia

I will read

"Why do we have to live this life?"

Vincy

"Because you will never find out if you don't." Bambi

Question life my love,

Question everything that happens

It must happen for a reason

Analyze yourself and your surroundings

Growth is key

Don't let the world shape you into nothingness

Shape the world around you

Don't discourage yourself

You will find the answers to all your questions if you listen

Listen for the noise within silence

Listen for the voice within

Look

Search for yourself in this lost world

Don't search for the world in your lost self

Don't be afraid to love, young one

Don't search to be loved

Sing

Sing your sweet lullabies every night

Life will sing for you too 

Only when you see the beauty of curiosity

Thank you for your time

Thank you for the view

Ill remember you

I hope you will remember me

"Beauty means 'being of one's hour." (Maud Casey, 111)

You are beautiful to me, in every way

I am terrified to be in your hour

Please don't define me with time

Please I beg of me, not to run

Run from timeless art in sceneries

Sceneries I am used to fly by

Let me not dear one, be of your hour

Thank you for being my inspiration, my art.

My dear lion

For letting me walk your jungle might it be just a little while

What better than a sentence

What better than a phrase

A symbol

A few sounds given meaning

A few words given many

Syllables

Synonyms

Any lexicological unit

How about a morpheme

How about many

How about homonyms and homophones

Antonyms perhaps

Any beautiful sound given any beautiful definition

To express the wonders of the unknown and the known

To express juxtapositions and opinions

The narration of desire and fears

To evade into the self

Into strangers

Into thoughts

Into a world filled with empty pages

And blank spaces

Create a better world with me

Let's grow together

Let's learn from each other

Let's never erase the big mistakes

Let's scribble together

The brighter future