Anatomy of This Blog

Anatomy of this blog: a compilation of poetry--either written by myself or others--artwork, thoughts, emotions; any form of creativity.
Showing posts with label meaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meaning. Show all posts

Monday, December 11, 2017

Drowning

I am floating in an endless sea,
Struggling to stay afloat,
Salt water filling my throat—
Oh god, how I wish to be free. 

The darkness soon consumes me,
Leaving emptiness in its wake,
A sadness I can't seem to shake—
Someone turn on the lights, I plea. 

It feels as though I've lost control,
Some may call it depressed,
This aching pain in my chest—
 Darkness is starting to take its toll. 

Sunny days are no longer my friend,
I converse with the thunder,
Rain eases me to slumber—
When will all of this bitterness end? 

How long this will last, I cannot say,
Only time can surely tell,
To break this awful spell—
An end to my drowning, I pray. 


-b.m.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Don't Blink

How it it, that
in a blink
of an eye,
all of life can
pass you by?

Once you were two,
life was so simple.
The cow said moo,
no stressing a pimple.

Then you were eight,
things were still good.
No worries of weight,
toy swords of wood.

When you turned sixteen,
things seemed different.
You dreamed of prom queen,
some friends had drifted.

Now you're twenty,
soon out on your own.
Saving every penny,
paying student loans.

Soon you'll be thirty,
finally settled down.
Making use of your degree,
feet firmly on the ground.

Eventually you'll be sixty,
enjoying your time.
Grandkids playing with kitty,
happiness at its prime.

Finally at the end,
you'll look back and say,
I cannot comprehend
how it felt like a day.

-b.m.

Saturday, September 2, 2017

Meaning of Life

Welcome to September, Moths!

It has been one long heck of a summer. I wish I could say it was filled with memorable nights and drinking until the sun came up, but unfortunately the real world had me tied down to work and school. Which I'm not necessarily complaining about because I saved up money to live comfortably while I'm away at college for the next couple of months, so there are trade-offs.

Now I know you're all thinking, are you going to tell us which school you go to, or what?? Since you begged, I'll share! I will be a senior this year at Rutgers University in New Brunswick! I transferred here last year and have been so grateful for the house I was accepted into. This house, called Helyar House, is unlike any other living arrangement out there. It is a co-op/coed, fifty year establishment filled with long-lasting traditions and amazing influential people. It really is a humbling experience to work alongside 39 other people to keep a house running effectively and-for the most part-smoothly.

Part of the uniqueness of this house is that the students who live within it basically have full control with a strong sense of independence. We have an E-board consisting of a president, vice president, food coordinators, historians (one of them being me), etc. The members of this "E-board" moved in a couple of days early to acclimate to the house for the upcoming semester, consisting of some training sessions discussing things like diversity, constructive personality exercises, stress/time management, etc. At the end of one of these sessions, our residence counselor, Neha, left us this food-for-thought before heading to bed:

What are three or four things you want to be remembered for when you die?
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That escalated quickly, huh?

The context behind this is that we were discussing things about each other, such as things we feel we are oppressed by, memories we had about issues with gender/race/confrontation in the past, and things alike. The goal of all of this was to feel a deeper connection with the other members of our E-board, as well as feeling comfortable enough to share these things that may be crouching in the back of our minds. It really hit me, and as I laid in bed that night, I couldn't get my mind off of the thought. Sometimes we are sidetracked by all of the clutter in our lives. Clutter can be stress at work, worrying about if you look "too fat" in this outfit or whether or not we're having a bad hair day or worrying about posting this picture rather than the other, etc. We hang on so closely to these minuscule issues that when we are asked to take a step back from it all, it seems so utterly ridiculous that we wasted any time worrying about such things in the first place.

And by we I mean I, naturally.

So what are my three or four things? I'm going to share them with all of you lovely people:

  • I want to be remembered for my smile and the way it lights up the darkest of rooms (as I have been so graciously told)
  • I want to be remembered for having a kind and compassionate nature towards others
  • I want to be remembered for my unwavering passion for wildlife, and things alike 
  • I want to be remembered for my infectious, side-hurts-so-bad, only-stopping-to-gasp-for-air, kind of laugh
  • And above all, I want to be remembered for all of the happiness I've brought into other people's lives
Let me be clear: I'm planning on my death being a veeeeeeeeeeeeery long time from now, and this is just an exercise to gain a perspective on life. 

Neha also said that if there ever comes a time in our lives where we are at a crossroads, or are going through a difficult situation in which life seems impossibly overwhelming, that we ought to utilize and retouch on these in order to reorientate our souls with our meaning of life. In other words, to take a step back from the magnifying glass we look through every day. No one is going to remember that huge pimple you had during the tenth grade that you ogled over all day, or that one time your belly rolls showed when your crop top was a little too cropped. None of these things will matter once we've departed from this physical world. It's how you chose to live your life, and how you treated people along the way, that matters.

I urge anyone reading this to take a few minutes to yourself in a quiet and secluded place to think about, and write down, what it is you wish to be remembered by when you die. Don't treat this as a morbid exercise, but rather your own guide from which to touch base with your core/soul. Write them down and store them somewhere you can access, somewhere it can remembered when you need it the most. These are for you and no one else, so really dig deep. 

What are you living for, moths? xoxo 




Sunday, July 16, 2017

Aware

Life is but a reflection of,
The Earth, the Sea,
And the Stars above--

The Earth teaches many a thing,
What wisdom its soils do bring.
From it, sprouts plants and trees,
Whose leaves dance in the breeze.
On it supports buildings and homes,
In it conceals diamonds and bones.
It is never judging of those it meets,
To everyone it graciously greets.
Within its lips, truth there lies,
Of the day light, and night skies.
Secrets it holds for those who tell,
For above it heaven,
And beneath it hell.
Always to it does life return,
From Earth, there is much to learn.

As a balance to Earth's benevolence,
There lives the Sea's bold arrogance.
Thrashing and swaying with gust all day,
To the Earth, it has much to say.
Never does it withhold a confession,
But done so with utmost discretion.
Although the surface looks of steel,
Beneath it flourishes a great deal.
In the shallows communities thrive,
Stimulating the waters to feel alive.
The dark abyss is a different being,
Hiding demons, within it screaming.
Many are there secrets untold,
In the Sea a mystery does hold.

Keeping watch over the sullen Sea,
Are creatures unlike you and me.
They fill the sky with sultry lights,
And take away the lonely nights.
But the Stars are not what they seem,
Despite their envied lustrous gleam.
Behind the light is a shadow of death,
A projection of beauty is all that's left.
This reality is their burden to bear,
For your sadness they wish to spare.
It's no wonder they are looked upon,
And their shooting light wished on.
From the Stars I've come to learn,
Even in death does passion burn.

So you see, that all around,
Are inspirations,
To be found.


 -b.m.




Wednesday, March 22, 2017

National Poem Day: Favorite

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost