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Truth (April 2008)

What is truth?
Does it have a place anymore?
Based on our memories, maybe
Fluid as our heart driven core

Is it justice?
No, that’s a political game
Based on the evidence, maybe
Changeable as the blame

Can it feel?
Know how to find its way back home?
Based on morality, maybe
In the truth we are alone

Chantal ✗

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Metaphorically Speaking (March 2008)

Oblique in reference
They have no name
Matters of the obscura
Part fauna, part flora
Never something tame

Chasms of experience
They feel no shame
Sensing all and absorbing
Cataloguing, resourcing
Remaining the same

What I refer to is thought
Wonderful, unchained, unbound
Limitless, all around
Bringing life to what we’ve sought
Like breathing into our lungs
Unbidden and involuntary
Until, if we’re ordinary
We smother them with leaden tongues

Chantal ✗

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(Unnamed 2) (March 2008)

Green flies past
Like a mask for the world
Told in flashback
Green is vast

Sunlight streams
Reminescent of life
Fleeting freezeframes
Sunlight dreams

And I sit here
Contemplating mankind
Dwelling on the evil, the good
The suffering, the joy
But wanting nothing more
Then to belong to the people of the sky

Chantal ✗

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Dysfunction (March 2008)

Troubled eyes, troubled lives
Slowly severing my sanity
I close my eyes, troubled eyes
Can’t let it wash over me
I clench a fist, squeeze ever tight
Won’t let go, ’till you bathe me in light
Troubled eyes, troubled lives
Let me replace the night

“It’s dark!” I cry, the tears they fall
Can’t see a thing, anything at all
Troubled eyes, troubled lives
Darkened, blinded by the fright

Salty and hot, they run their course
Voice can’t keep up, erratic and hoarse
Troubled eyes, troubled lives…
Troubled eyes, troubled lives

Chantal ✗

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(unnamed) (March 2008)

Lying naked, pen in hand
Watching the ink spill into me
Semi kind of something
Singing words to me

I struggle noiselessly
Watching the words take shape
Unnatural? We’re scared
The songwriters jape

Don’t look at me

No more lines to read between
Spiritual caligraphy
He speaks, my phantom muse
I write on wordlessly

Don’t look at me
Look at each other

Chantal ✗

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Casualty of War (July 2005)

Poetry flashes in photographic stills
Through the mind of him
He who is ‘ill’
If only they could see, if only they could see
Into he who is, “lacking

And so his gems gather dust
His minds eye succumbs to rust
And so falls the glass-eyed stare
His thoughts float here and there

But will they claim responsibility
For he who is now
A ‘civilised’ casualty?

Chantal ✗

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More than a dream

Positivity. Goals. Perseverance.

Cristian Mihai

I often say that people should set short time achievable goals and crazy long term dreams. The thing is, we live in a world of small steps. Even though we don’t like to admit it, even though we often choose to search for a shortcut, progress is an extremely slow process. Excruciatingly so at times.

So it’s understandable that this year I set out to write. That’s the most important thing a writer can do. Then, I wanted to sell a few books. Not a precise number… I just wanted to sell a few books. Self-publishers know how difficult it is to sell just one copy of your book. Not ten, not a thousand, just one.

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