Today is the day

Today is a day like any other,

The sun will rise just the same,

And nothing exciting will happen,

No miracles will pour down with rain.

Today you will get out of bed

And still go to do your job,

Still do your tasks and chores,

Still have the same responsibilities.

But maybe on your way to work,

You’ll help that lady cross the street

And you will never know

That she is crying because

Until yesterday she would have hobbled

Happily along her old husband,

But she would have been alone today

And every day from now on.

But maybe while picking lunch,

You will smile at the girl across the counter

And you will never know that she blushes

Because she spent last night crying

Feeling worthless after her lover left her,

And she would not have realized

She was worthy of someone’s attention

With her red rimmed eyes and splotchy cheeks.

But maybe when you go home,

You will buy that little kid an ice cream

And you will never know that

He doesn’t smile from the sugary treat,

But because he couldn’t have told

Whether the world was a good place still

After his mommy left him.

Today is a day like any other.

Every day is equally good

To be the day you change someone’s life.

A forever

We are born of the stars in this restricting flesh

And yearn to discover our way back to origins.

We reach for the world and demand that it yields

The secrets of its essence to our greedy fingers

We hoist ourselves up and start walking away

With barely half-learnt worlds of knowledge

And seek the next thrill, the bigger enigma

Until we’ve given everything just a cursory glance.

It catches up to us after we learn how to speak

And realize we don’t quite own the descriptives,

So we throw ourselves in the things we suppose

Should be beyond words – convenient excuses

Until we forget not to take them so earnestly

And we waste eternities looking in one’s eyes

Searching for stars that twinkle ironically

On the other edge of pretty, fake lashes.

It takes us long whiles to realize the difference

Between momentary distraction and true value,

Until we separate what deserves our fascination,

We’ve already wasted forever on wrong paths

But it’s fine, because we’re children of the stars

And that’s only a forever out of the very many

That we get to experiment with and get wrong.

Maybe next time we’ll use those forevers more wisely.

Of fortune

Fascinating word, is it not?

Without context, what meaning has it got?

There’s a fortune in silver and gold

That keeps you fed and out of the cold,

And there’s a fortune that is good and kind

And resides far more in the mind.

It’s fortunate if you earn a fortune,

But you can’t fortunately have good fortune

And I just wonder who decides

What works according to which guides.

And how funny that money so rarely

Is linked to fate in any way fairly –

It’s only when it belongs to ourselves

That we admit in effort it delves;

For everybody else, it’s blind luck

And it’s up to fortune where it struck.

Fortune. I wonder how much it reveals

The first meaning that comes on its heels.

All the luck in the world

All the luck in the world

Can sometimes mean nothing.

Even genies have conditions –

Luck is easier sometime,

No number of wishes to fit into,

But it’s got its own restrictions.

If you’re lucky, your prince charming

Might spare you the second glance,

But it’s equally powerless –

Changing one’s feelings

And changing the world

Might as well be the same thing.

Luck gives you opportunities,

But wasted chances do nothing

To change the final result.

It’s up to you how you use

What luck has offered.

And there are, of course,

Opportunities that even

All the luck in the world

Couldn’t possibly give you.

There’s no going back,

No erasing the past,

No raising the dead.

When you think about it, actually

Luck doesn’t do much, does it?

So how about we assume

That we already have, each of us

All the luck in the world

And see what opportunities

It’s already given us.


Your mirror is trying to get your attention.

It whispers in the night that you are ……

What are you? Doomed? Beautiful? Not alone?

Morning comes and you greet the new day.

You tell it it’s going to be ……. today.

What will your day be? Sad? Good? The last?

You go through your life, and you think things.

You tell yourself that you are so ……

How are you? Unlucky? Intelligent? Brave?

No, you’re not all powerful.

The way you choose to complete your dots

Doesn’t automatically make the universe obey.

Sometimes it doesn’t want to.

Sometimes it’s not up to you, and it needs

More than one person to shout the same thing

So it even starts noticing the whisper.

But your dots do make a difference.

If you negociate something, always go first.

No matter how unrealistic, it sets the tone.

You can’t get a star if you ask for dirt,

But you just might if you first ask for the moon.

You’re the only one who can decide

Between which answers the result is chosen,

And the only one who decides how long

You ignore the universe ignoring your answers,

And how hard you fight to make yourself heard.

So how will you complete your dots?

For many years to come

Past paints our threads brilliant colours,

Stories of incredible gains and incredible sorrows,

And intricate knots to make the world’s fabric,

A little bit real and a whole lot of magic.

The pity, my dear, is that beautiful things

Need more and more colour upon their strings

Or the stories start fraying and becoming dull

An unearthly party can’t be followed by a lull.

But there’s only some paint, and my, it’s expensive,

And harder to find shades even slightly impressive.

We have to trade sometimes from what we have,

So we take our past beauties and those we halve.

We lose appreciation, but the image of us

Shines harmoniously, from greys to golds thus.

That’s the secret why things that burn brighter

Reach their end faster, too expensive the fiber.

But I’m hungry for texture, not mellow colour,

I have no issue to change one shade for another,

And make the design from knots, in relief,

Adding new changes to something too brief.

When you care less about being brighter than some,

The threads last instead for many years to come.

Should bes

Should bes, could bes, would have beens,
Big jumps from perceived virtues to actual sins,
More inertia gathering each passing day
Until you forget you should always have a say.
Mountains change, let alone people,
What has once been may not always be equal,
And nobody ever guarantees on timelines,
The only thing you really have is present signs.
Vague promises kept nobody warm at night,
There’s no right time to start putting things right,
Circumstances don’t make valid excuses
When people, instead of prevention, learn their uses.
The more you gave, the more you’ll feel like giving,
Surely you can’t throw it away on one misgiving,
And the gain should be coming any minute now,
That’s how things are supposed to work, anyhow.
But sometimes, sadly, the gain is the lesson
And not an act of some great concession.
Poor little thing, you should know no promises hold
When life is involved and lets fate unfold.

Steps of the way

The fragile lattice of the steps to the present
A long-reaching pattern whose each piece was meant
What would have happened from a fault in the web?
What would that matter to the flow and the ebb?
A thousand new branches open up every day,
A thousand new choices that determine the way,
An impossible design of possible futures
A game to which we fancy ourselves rulers
Even with only seeing three paces ahead.
Abysmal possibilities that may fill with dread,
How do we control a world ruled by chance,
How do we plan the retreats and advance?
Unless, of course, what’s meant to be will
Despite the bends, mazes, struggles uphill.
Should it be shameful we cling to this hope,
Absurd predestinations to help us to cope
With staring down an abyss that gently looks back
While we lack the language to answer its black?
Is this to be the extent of our free will,
Choosing the route, but converging paths still?
Is this why the journey is the one that should matter,
If it’s only it that can end worse or better?
Or maybe, somehow, it comes back to skills,
More knowledge unlocking more possible thrills,
And only the wise may find out the secrets,
The rest of us herded off among senseless spirits.
I can’t figure out the intricate patterns,
But maybe, one day, I’ll understand what matters.

Jar of delight

Every being is a jar of delight,
Their flavours sweet, delicious and bright,
Even those that hide a sour bite,
A note of sadness or a taste of fright.

It just gets some getting used to,
Until you find their flavour true
To enjoy them sooner, I wish I knew –
It would have helped me while I grew.

I learnt thought that I should always try
And taste the substance of every lie,
See what they are without asking why
And keeping close those that keep me high.

So with my lips stained I walk now around,
With beautiful flavours that abound,
Friends that through taste I have found,
To whom forever I hope to be bound.


A/N: inspired by one of iScriblr’s many beautiful quotes (click here to see her post). Not exactly what I thought it would bring about, but it ended up in an impressive amount of rhymes!

Unfortunately rephrased

People have a morbid kind of passion
For all the negativity in the world.
They especially seem to adore putting
An ‘unfortunate’ label to everything.
But how often is it really the correct one?

I may have quite a few quirks.
Unfortunately, this makes friends hard to come by.
But maybe it is fortunate instead,
Because every one of my friends
Are people who I can truly count on,
Not having to worry that I should seed out
Those who would disappear when the going gets tough.

I am quite shy and quiet.
Unfortunately, this makes my ideas hard to hear.
But maybe it is fortunate instead,
Because all those who listen
Are genuinely interested
In what I have to say.

I’ve been called childish and naive.
Unfortunately, this makes me easy to take advantage of.
But maybe it is fortunate instead,
Because with every person
Who steps over me for their success
I get a little wiser, a little tougher,
A little less likely to fall for the same trap.

Unfortunately, I didn’t always get the things I wanted.
Fortunately, this lead me to the things I needed.
Unfortunately, I often lost my way.
Fortunately, this made me keep rediscovering myself.
Unfortunately, I was not too good at the things I did.
Fortunately, this allowed me to commit to them,
And know that I truly deserved it when I succeeded.

‘Unfortunately’ and ‘fortunately’
Are just two sides of the same coin,
A coin so small it can flip over
With a single harder exhale from you.
It’s just a little bit of rephrasing
That all writers should be
Intimately familiar with.
So how about, every once in a while,
We all choose to listen instead
To the fortune withing the ‘unfortunately’,
And the possibilities of an ‘impossible’?