Fruitful Odyssey

Fainted Breaths: She's Cold

On her lips,

Unheard realms press

In anguish along the border.

Hoarding words

Prone to linger on the surface

Victims to self imposed shackles,

She's cold.

Unable to relinquish

What's intimate with her soul

Her lips like refined wine,

Ravishing in all its splendor,

Dulled by un-sheathed blades

Of unspoken expressions,

She's cold.

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For it endows his teachings with value.

Enriching his insight to slay the beast of life,

With wisdom unearthed by tested truth.

To overcome his own biases,

Trials must break the illusion,

That a callow man can be king of his reality,

Such lies forfeits growth for abiding confusion.

Yet soundness from sage council is needed,

To speak words intentional to nurture fruit,

For a man's ways seems right in his eyes,

But guidance discerns the patterns of truth.

For folly must be drained from his soul,

To make prudent decisions for his home,

Heeding the manner of strengtheing his bone,

To nurture a generation unwavered by storms.

Hardship is a teacher in need of assistance,

To find lessons in its faithfulness to austerity,

Rather than meaningless pain and suffering,

Dictating the purpose of a man's existence.

Gaining sound judgment to exercise conviction,

When allured into ambiguous philosophy,

Offering an intellectual answer to prayers,

With no substance nor consistency.

Man, embody patience through tribulations,

For wallowing doesn't change its intensity,

Nor beckoning distractions shortens its course,

& Running only makes purpose empty.

Man, incline your ear to vision

for he that doesnt casts retrain..

For lack of discipline leads a man to perish,

unsure of the destiny in his name..

No man is meant to be a slave,

to another man nor his addictions.

Kingship rests in every man,

and with God he discovers it.

For harship is the only fire that refines a man,

Undoing the narrative swaying him to slumber.

Extinguishing the conditions feed as food,

Open his eyes to the truth

"I AM MORE THAN A CONQUEROR"

If I wrote anymore stories just for your soul, would you know? would you take your time to taste the fruits squeezed delicately just for you? would you soak in all its glory just to realise this atmosphere was breathed just for you? would you digest every nurturing word, dipped in remedial elixirs just to discover they heal you? would you linger a little longer on each page, savor the emotions evoked and praise the fire and vulnerability it allows you to share, just to believe in yourself again? would you swim a little slower, dive a little deeper to find the treasure within the mind that cherishes your move, and in enthralled by every syllable and breath produced by you? would you finally see yourself for the first time and love all that is you? would you smile at your special parts, eager to discuss which lines soothes you? which Verses touches beyond your skin to find you..

If I wrote anymore stories just for your soul, would you know?

You......

The night sky is just a grave yard.

We found beauty in their fading flickers,

But finding it in us is hard.

In our eyes unappreciated poetry

Held our deepest scars.

We never looked at them,

Just tamed them in tinted jars.

Hoping what would emerge

Would be butterflies.

Illustrating a passage of time,

When we healed from our disguise.

Yearning for different Versions of ourselves,

But trapped in the image engraved in our eyes.

I cannot dispise the vessel

Where love poured pure.

But I question myself,

A canvas battered and torn.

I was told it was an art form,

To be shattered untill

I can paint the world.

I have enough to fill the ocean

But I've given up such expressions.

Instead I appreciate the season we lived,

The sculptures we made, and paintings we hid.

The stories written in code,

Only we could interpret.

The atmosphere we created,

Which would be wrong to duplicate.

We should not look for

each other in someone else.

Because there is always new advanture

To discover in different realms.

Why hurt a lover fascinated with your soul,

Fully invested in your language to know you whole.

Because he isn’t me, or she isn’t you? No

Every book has its beauty

once you're entralled.

Be present and peek into their eyes

With conviction to bare fruit and all.

I promise even though buried stars flicker,

Behind the veil where they came is a light.

We didnt find beauty in our night sky,

It doesn't mean the flame of love won't blaze again in your eyes.

It Will Blaze Again

© fruitfulodyssey

It wasn't enough.

Now, I pour misinterpreted pieces to drown you whole, to lose myself figuring if I ever loved you at all.

I emptied myself on your pallette, just for you to misunderstand the colors.

Now, I shatter before you so I can be unrecognisable.

I swam through treacherous waters finding the pieces you misplaced, I couldnt find it.

Now, I invade realms begging every version of me holding you dear, to offer myself a sacrifice

To fill whats vacant.

I fought with God, the only one who truly seen you. I fought for you with the only friend who knew me to well.

Now, I'm doing everything to mend the bond i relinquished for your wish. That you find peace.

Funny how you found it without me.

My absence was all you needed.

Now,

I re live every death living through me,

I flew to the sun thinking it be a different story,

I'm in pieces, i have more cracks than shattereds windows.

I will myself to understand,

I figure out the reason why every quest

Never soothed your soul

But i noticed every time i went to war

Paradise consumed your halls..

Now

I'm forever finding myself in every word i spill,

Each line makes me a stranger to my soul,

Every revelation leaves me unfulfilled.

I must find me before it all.

When God said no in the beginning,

Maybe that's who I've been looking for,

"You've emptied yourself enough,

anymore you'd be nothing more,

even the darkness has substance to pour,

be mindful of your soul,

come home,

I never left you I hope you know,

I'm a gentle God,

I won't manipulate your soul..

you choose the noise over my whispers,

only when you notice,

my child you'll recognize my poetry embraced your canvas,

only in the silence you feel my presence,

because i'm a Jealous God,

I'd rather have your undivided attention

than share you with unappreciative souls,

you know you are mine..

I couldnt say yes to any fabric

to weave carelessly in your tapestry,

despite its beauty my child,

not every breathtaking painting holds everything.

Not every desirable pleasure touches the soul, this is why i said no.

We argued i admit, we disagreed about your choices,

but why forsake a son who desires to walk the road on his own,

to figure out the intricacies of life alone,

don't you know once you look back

and remember me,

you'll find open arms and a home, come home"

"You'll find yourself through the doors"

The night sky is just a grave yard.

We found beauty in their fading flickers,

But finding it in us is hard.

In our eyes unappreciated poetry

Held our deepest scars.

We never looked at them,

Just tamed them in tinted jars.

Hoping what would emerge

Would be butterflies.

Illustrating a passage of time,

When we healed from our disguise.

Yearning for different Versions of ourselves,

But trapped in the image engraved in our eyes.

I cannot dispise the vessel

Where love poured pure.

But I question myself,

A canvas battered and torn.

I was told it was an art form,

To be shattered untill

I can paint the world.

I have enough to fill the ocean

But I've given up such expressions.

Instead I appreciate the season we lived,

The sculptures we made, and paintings we hid.

The stories written in code,

Only we could interpret.

The atmosphere we created,

Which would be wrong to duplicate.

We should not look for

each other in someone else.

Because there is always new advanture

To discover in different realms.

Why hurt a lover fascinated with your soul,

Fully invested in your language to know you whole.

Because he isn’t me, or she isn’t you? No

Every book has its beauty

once you're entralled.

Be present and peek into their eyes

With conviction to bare fruit and all.

I promise even though buried stars flicker,

Behind the veil where they came is a light.

We didnt find beauty in our night sky,

I'm not prepared for.

I've ask for Love in all its glory,

Yet the steps to be matured

To articulate emotions

And cultivate an environment

Where vines grow I've ignored.

I've asked for understanding,

Yet I neglect the practice required

To step out of my shoes

and communicate with grace

To have frutiful conversations.

I've asked for mental healing,

Yet i surround myself with the same

Things that robbed me of my sanity,

I hestiate to let them go because I'm

Familier with these types of companions.

I've asked for my heart to be mended,

Yet I fail to fast false ideas of romance, diminishing the value time has given me

To detox the hopeless patterns from my system.

I've ask for my better self to reveal himself,

Yet he ignores me..

But I've come to understand why he would do such a thing..

Its because I ignore me.

I rely on spontaneous change and miracles,

When broken bones still need rehab to rebuild ligaments and muscle.

I didnt deal with false expectations

before they became concerete

now its hard to see most of my problems

Live on because of me.

It's everyone else's fault instead of me,

yet they dont have to live in my lie perpetually.

I've learned this reality, the thing about life is the truth will always set you free despite the bitter sweet.

I've asked for things I'm not prepared for.

Not getting it made me see.

It made me stand up for once

And claw open this dormant seed

And give birth to a legacy of belief

With every step I take.

Understanding how to reclaim

My life by calling demons by their name

& Being bold in the presence of my

Oppressor as we stand face to face.

I AM not bound to emotional swings,

I AM not induced by the song of sirens

I AM stronger than the limited words of affirmations

I HAVE battled with my mind long enough

To know I Am the master of this ship.

I HAVE crumpled and rebuilt,

I HAVE glorified my ruins and learned i can only live beyond the ashes if i die to my former state.

I KNOW some days the war feels lost

But as long as I'm breathing I can fight another day.

A wise man once told me

"its easy to remain a victim of internal pains.

Because healing is strict,

it exposes Self to self,

demanding a recognition of afflictions worn as a necklace.

Giving you the illusion you’ve tried

Everything instead remain consistent.

Because going through the emotions perpetually is familiar than making a difficult decision.

For what will meet you is unknown and foriegn

So why step in a realm requiring faith to carry you. When you already carry you.

Listen son focusing on excitment and immediate gratification is a fantasy painted in movies,

The process is tedious and grueling, conforming is Metamorphosis for nothing new

Holds on to the image that carried all its misfortune.

Be picky of what thoughts influences you,

You must remain aware of what speaks to the heart, cause from the heart flows all of lifes issues."

I've become intentional

With every step I take.

Understanding how to reclaim

My life by calling demons by their name

Depression, anxiety, confusion

You all think the same,

Offering me something I am not

When I AM what the heavens say i am.

A new path awaits where stories are told,

Opening the soul to secrets of the cosmos,

Where wanderers go to expose hidden doors,

Housing a faint light anointed with glory,

An Odyssey, a quest of discovery,

An exploration beyond flesh,

Yet the reason for this willful wonder eludes me

Elusion

Vandalised walls, were sacred, lay bare.

What bloomed in mornings dew,

Dulled, tamed by pilgrams unaware.

What gleamed in midnight's light

Vitiated by Insensitive meander & siphon stare

An amusement, a spectacle, a theoretical jest,

Your quivers are for game,affection mere pleasantry.

Addicted to wordplay, they are jewels in your ear.

Yet the commotion of the heart yearns the elementary.

A time meaning dripped like honey,

A season a sanctuary bled vulnerability

A day dream, a crave bitter sweet,

You've known enough, a bellowed soliloquy,

Caresses dipped in promised care, a stimulus,

A dead flame, sought an empty surrender.

A conditioned crave for adulterated intimacy,

Magnify a pallet adorned in pretense & adventure.

Relinquishing home, in pursuits of apogee,

What is Odyssey, a forsaken earnest hunger

Patience, a love deficient on your skin,

Knowing you whole, a philosophy opaque to remiss souls,

I honor you with my hands, a coveted liberation, for a canvas latent in wonder, an unrefined gold

A taboo, To enagge without conviction,

my raison dêtre, unveils the divine secrets of old.

A craftsman, a creator, an author, an artisan of sorts,

Dedicated to paint & brush, Avidity unleash its hold

A pottor graced clay, a nurtured form,

Nakedness, immorality housed in clothes, unfold.

Bewitched by curiosity & wonder,

& all its galore,

Story of anticipation, a love composed.

The tales that lay beneath skin,

an opus, a bible, a scroll, I'm eager to know.

Sunk deep in service exploring your mahogany hue.

Prune & chisel, a sculptures honest desire,

To discover life in stone, intricacies of bone&tissue.

Intrigued in details weaved, a blemished tapestry

& divulge tales untold, shielded in a flowered venue.

flesh flustered by discernment, Goosebumps

A response to heavens sagacious residue.

A devout healer, for what rests in my hands,

I'm called to nurture, effleurage, Petrissage.

Therapeutic art, a pride, a Smith,

A preserver of beauty hidden by pillage.

Exploring culture in the curves of scars,

Concealed knowledge and indomitable heritage,

A fabric, a woman, a shell of the heavens,

A palm, an embrace, my delicate clay.

Myself in times of low,

Can be compromised

By immediate needs.

A work of art

Unworthy to be seen

By wandering eyes,

Because no one knows

The Demeanour, they see.

The strokes of my brush

Are interpreted based

On what the soul feels.

Yet miss to articulate

What exists in front of them.

Because the paint that clothes

The canvas holds a different

Meaning only the author

Knows.

Such details blend with

vivid colors hugging the pallet.

Nurturing a view of the horizon

In hues intimate to the one who

Orchestrated it.

How can you comprehend

what I’ve not understood

Or define in my garden

Of bloom & Odyssey.

My hour has come.

To determine the meaning

Of sacrifice when my addiction

Offer their service.

To deny myself

Of selfish satisfaction

Stealing serenity & sanity.

Staging as sovereign as if its

Some role in a grand scheme.

In my times of low

Guarding the thoughts

That breathe live

Is a necessity.

Because an idle mind

Is the devils Playground

They say.

Like a sandbox

Of trinkets dripping

In want are on display.

I'm Learning to observe

Myself in times of low,

And forgive myself

For how easy flesh succumb.

To understand patience is

Not a wish to be granted

But a daily action

Supported by the belief

"This too, shall past"

has its cure.

I understand the

remedy takes time

to refine so

the inconsistencies

of my character

I must endure.

At times famine

embraces me sweetly

draining the strength

I need to say no.

At times, I'm abundant

like the leaves that clothes

the Amazon, nurturing

the mind to believe

Walking away always

leads to something better.

At times my garden

goes through pruning,

my vines have lost direction

avoiding what the sun exposes

to live in the shade to conceal

sin parading proudly pretending

to be promising.

Urging me to despise

change even when

It's good for me.

At times water flows

Into me like a great waterfall

pursuing the confines

of a river leading me home.

A calm that comforts

me when I notice

what growing pains

has Cultivated.

I'm inconsistent

but ever growing.

my words lacked

conviction on this journey,

but as I stumble along the way

I learn to see where I'm going.

It has been a battle

for resolve to take its place.

Despite the calluses on

my bones, stubbornness

manages to keep its reign.

Each step has transitioned

from unsure to certain.

But the acquisition of

wisdom felt like lashes,

painful, the agony blinded

me from what was being engraved.

... a lesson... an impartation

of principles needed

to articulate ones purpose.

Who plants seed

And does not know

What he is growing

comes from being

at war with yourself

to break ground

for new soil to emerge.

I'm a gardener lost

in the oscillation of seasons.

This perpetual pendulum

Of personality shifts

Exposes the fraud fighting

Furiously to surface as face.

What must become

Of me if I fail to overcome

The temptation of imitations

Just to feel comfortable

In a skin needing peace

I must stretch for substance.

I can't deny,

I've become foreign in

This vessel many times.

A process of soul

reconstruction terraforming

a landscape in need of

a container.

In need of a new canvas

Desperate to draw in

All the paint expanding

the picture.

In need of a fabric

Knitted to adapt to

The growth of a sinner.

My existence is not

the same as yesterday.

Every peel unveils

The surface of my soul

Embracing a necessity

For understanding.

Every level discovered

Enlightens me,

A tedious process of

Arrogance & humility

Cultivating new wounds

Unknown to the natural mind

Frightens me.

Only a healing profound

In the spirit awakens

an atmosphere

Of forgiveness.

I now know I'm a cocoon

Of the old ways.

Will this person perish

Or persistently pursue

pleasures powerful

In pain...

On this journey I'm in need of grace

A grace Unknown

to human emotion.

Such peace sits behind

The veil knowing this endeavour

Will not leave me unscathed.

But open I may..

To usher in an identity

Belonging to me

Not subject to mere definition

But divulged through

discernment & revelation.

Sexual encounters

& visuals to acquire

Spiritual Stillness

In my vessel.

Raw emotion, deep yearning

engraved in the fabric of flesh

I don't despise the feeling,

But I've delayed an awakening

Authored for me.

A journey purposed

for clarity Is a need

For the depth of my soul

Desires comprehension

To articulate the intricacies

Of devotion.

.. Why swim ignorant of

The canvas that welcomes

The paint of a lover?

Isn't it foolishness

To give what is sacred

Lacking the intimate

Understanding of its value?

I cannot love beyond

The natural understanding

If the eyes that's meant

To see beyond the

veil of flesh

Fails to see the intimate

Textures intertwined

Behind the layers of skin.

On this journey I remain

To discern potent affections

In alignment with my soul.

An everlasting

If stretched in hopeful

Expectations of a journey

Beyond the body of flesh.

Mere mundane desires

arrest inner expressions,

For the action of satisfying

An infinite with finite fruits

Diminish the taste of potency

In the depth of the soul.

Harken onto wisdom,

For she will only heed the call

Of those who beckon on to her.

Cultivate a need intimate

Beyond bone to receive

The nectar from her lips

Endowed in spiritual journey.