Beautiful black

Never falters, the darkness of the night,
Pure and cherished, abstaining light.
Artists enrich, absolute spectrums colored
But miss serene beauty in pitch black.

Black, defines purity
Shades change name and emotion.
Undulating thoughts, stationary once
Dissipate into the abyss, from whence it came.

The river

Under blissful stillness in the mountains,
Currents stream decisively, the veins lands yet see;
Nourishing what is, impartial, without a cause,
August setting to teach life lessons.

Beaten down path, the flow downstream,
Doubts remain to tread anew or to follow.
Calm and with purpose, conjoined into mother’s yoke.

Coarse and turbulent, the vivid upstream,
Discloses without bias, doorways supreme.
Sweet the prize, harder still the path.

Twin decisions lie ahead.
Swim against, reach the source,
Remain still, go with the flow.
How decides one?

Paying for experience

Really like this story. We often forget that what we are now is an accumulation of experiences over years of successful endeavors and failed attempts.

Legend has it that Pablo Picasso was sketching in the park when a bold woman approached him.

“It’s you — Picasso, the great artist! Oh, you must sketch my portrait! I insist.”

So Picasso agreed to sketch her. After studying her for a moment, he used a single pencil stroke to create her portrait. He handed the women his work of art.

“It’s perfect!” she gushed. “You managed to capture my essence with one stroke, in one moment. Thank you! How much do I owe you?”

“Five thousand dollars,” the artist replied.

“But, what?” the woman sputtered. “How could you want so much money for this picture? It only took you a second to draw it!”

To which Picasso responded, “Madame, it took me my entire life.”

Picasso and Brigitte Bardot, from Getty Images, via The Telegraph

h/t David Airey

Quotes 28

Everybody wants to be somebody; nobody wants to grow.

— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Here’s my take.

Be inspired by gifted beacons;
Desert mimicry, or diminish to an ape.

Perspectives, absolute?

Watching waves of hordes walking by,
A clarity dawns, suddenly.
The sense of joy, blossoming visages,
Evolved out of once parted tears.

When arrival welcomes the loved,
The parted, embrace the void. A wicked cycle.
The event, absolute,
the twisted coin, relative,
Binds in a mirage, to confound perspectives.

Quotes 27

“Unlike the liar, who cares enough about the truth to hide it, the bullshitter doesn’t care, so long as you’re listening.”

— Gordon Pennycook

Make or break

Pressure, inevitable twist of life.
It makes or breaks.
It creates or destroys.
It is my rudra, my karma.

Long addicted towards an unsurmountable feeling of suffocation,
the rising tempo to change the path led in ways undeciphered.
Witness days when strong men fail on chance,
When the grip of indecision rules and brings down,
Kings of unconquered realms to their knees and wonder,
What is character ?

Is it virtue to hold hunger, unquestioned without a cause ?
Is it portrayed when you deal with a physical injury with jest ?
Is it defined when you suffer with failure and recover ?
Is it remaining steady, pulsing heart, never missing a rhythm, when hell descends ?
Or perhaps it is defined by reactions to the 10-ton foot of life,
Without flutter and emotion, to do what needs to be done.

Years in search and guides seemingly abundant, pointless.

Uncertainty

Run, toward the frightening chasm of uncertainty,
Cower not, flinch not, when light darkens,
Near lies liberation far from unknown inferno,
Where angels cloaked as demons become friends.