A Toast to the Tears

Of knowing the difference
between light and shade-
The beginnings of endings
that move closer to the grave.
Fighting the unleashed demons
until the very last breath-
The struggle of discordant voices
and colours vying for good health;

These are the conversations played
into horrors mutated and muted-
And the brainwashing of innocents
is then thoroughly completed.
The ways of the wanderer
are always corrupt and deviant-
And the search for inner peace
leads often to worldly bereavement.

A toast to the tears of validation
under the glare of deep disapproval-
The soul works for mass adulation
fighting through for constant approval.
Smouldering below the aspirations
of all highly strung superiors-
The world has constantly denied
what lies beneath all our exteriors.

J.Bibi

Harm

The screams echo only in the light,
In the darkness they just become a wall of noise.

The softness of the familiar, grates
Against the cutting blades broken into rough shards.

The strange voices are loud.
The moments reflect crescendos-
And silence in perfect harmony.
Gently the monsters speak,
In tones that are too harsh
To let the trickery go unnoticed.

That was their plan but it was just a formality.
Really they don't care at all, it just doesn't matter.
Everything might have mattered, before-
It was all said and done but it never really would.

The shaking images, sounds and echoes of emotion,
The never-ending play of pain,
All comes to a sudden halt.
That's it, the nightmare is over for another day.
The horrible dream which makes absolutely no sense.
Who- Why are they doing this? What do they want?!

The morning as stark as ever.
Bright and eerily simple.
Just the way it was supposed to be
But would never be again.

J.Bibi

Hypnotic

The energy that does not destroy
But inspires creative patterns,
From the deepest of ethereal depths-
Of everything beautiful and brilliant-
Criticise but always leave the potential.

The newest of beginnings and the
Start of the end, of heart-seed killings,
The highest form of existence and living,
Believing in the power of rhythm;
It is indeed, hypnotic and transcendent.

The awareness of patterns everywhere;
That spirituality which guides the anchor,
The need to fight that suffocating mire-
Of feeding fledgling hopes and starving
Those everyday, parasitic insecurities.

J.Bibi

Deceptive Imagery

The writing is on the wall and yet the words mean nothing at all,
Through it all the crazy, strange and deceptively delirious soothe
Away, the fears of a kindness that is a curious fate,
Surreal are the moments full with isolation and indoctrination-
And which always seem to leave inner peace denied.
Compulsions of idle prostration obstruct the views of clarity,
Intoxicated by deceptive imagery we struggle through the days,
Searching always for better ways to achieve our innate humanity.

J.Bibi

Stealing from the senses

The insights of healing are never-ending stories,
For the seeming closure of every wound,
Exposes the beginnings of many others.
And in time the stars are seen to shine brightly,
As the moon glows an eerie light stronger,
But layers and layers of disturbing realities,
Just continually grow one into another.
The fiercest of outraged energies create,
Grievances, that slowly propel peace closer,
For experience can teach skills of understanding,
Yet at the cost of stealing daily from the senses.
Of trust and the distortions of every fickle truth,
Moral grounds that shift and pathways of cold reason,
Lead to silently still spaces of subversive light, where
The powers of vision are moulded into a  surreal gift.

J.Bibi

The Invincible Nature of a Non-entity

What numbing madness and what utter sadness?
The moments of pain and gladness-
To belong nowhere and everywhere,
In a vain search to belong somewhere,
To be a nothing and a something-
To forgive all and everything,
In the mess of the misery that is humanity.
A struggle to cling onto the very notion of sanity-
Hold on, hold on, you will cry, before it gets better-
The wounds of the heartsoul only heal to become stronger.
With evidence from the past as a measure of security
A gauge of the invincible nature of a non-entity-
To be alive in the middle of storms of easy destruction,
Is an eternal path towards mental and spiritual instruction.
The human entity is a mere mass of blood and gore
Easily ripped apart on the outside yet alive forever more.

J.Bibi

Ninety-nine moments of lies

Sometimes, I feel the fury coursing through the veins like a torrent of acid,
The victims of power games crushed beneath the ego of so-called superiors,
Liars and cheats, the hypocrites of double standards and contradictions:

Play the games of deceit and betrayal;
Lay the cards of dishonesty on the table
Every dog has it's day and everything is changeable-

Remember,
The heart hides the universe in it's depths
Remember,
Ninety-nine moments of lies and one moment of truth
Is all it takes.

J.Bibi

A Pathway of Presence

The crossed wires,
Create sparks-
This is the beginning,
Of all worldly creation.

Bloodied hands
And gentle fingers,
Are the worst of all
Known, best intentions.

To master the art,
Of healing reflection
And within introspection,
Is a pathway of presence.

Within this torn
Heart, of every storm
Is made the journey,
of manifest realisation.

J.Bibi

Delphic

Someone who lives,
with deliberate,
Double standards;
Is a struggling person-
Within whose heart,
A maggot called fear lives
And defecates regularly
On the grace of their soul,
The moving nature
Of the human entity, innate
Ensures the opportunity
For a self-diagnosed cure.

- J.Bibi