I’m tired and pensive…

I am replaceable. My words are replaceable. Forgettable.
But
The love I share and give willingly is not.
I am replaceable. We all are. Which is good.
But
That doesn’t mean that we/I don’t leave holes and gapes and imprints on soul that will last longer than we/I do.

I always thought that I don’t want to be replaceable or forgettable. I never wanted to be one in a million, not even one of the few. I wanted to stand out and be special. I never did anything to deserve that though. That doesn’t mean that I am not standing out and that I am not someone special for someone else. And even if I am forgotten, isn’t it more important that the love I gave isn’t? Isn’t it more important that I touched three or four souls instead of hundreds or thousands? And will I ever know how many people truly read my words, my poems, my letters; how many are touched and changed? The answer is No. Because I will be forgotten and all that will be left of me are words on paper or screens. A thought. A touch. A shared moment. A memory. Maybe even a name. Most importantly, a feeling. An emotion that was stirred.

Just a comment

image

I’m just too proud about this one not to share.
I remember this story very well. I saw the movie ‘Once’ with Glen Hansard and felt inspired. It took me only two hours to write. From the start, I was drawn to that character and when the readers had nothing but praise for the Busker, I knew that I wrote a gem. What touches me about this comment here is that it feels as if I have made an impact. With my words and my imagination. It’s just an amazing feeling.

Link (of an unedited version – there are a couple of typos left in this one):
https://micqu.wordpress.com/2015/06/03/the-busker/

Quote

“Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky. We fell them down and turn them into paper.That we may record our emptiness.” ~Kahlil Gibran

I am everything and I am nothing

I am who you want me to be

but underneath it all,

without the clothes – bare

I will always just be me.

Finding Peace

When the moon and the sun have lost their meaning,
When nothing makes sense, not even dreaming,
When our hearts are squished in life’s iron fist
When our thoughts are vanishing in a doubtful mist.
Then we can chose to drown in artificial sorrow,
We can chose to ignore a sane and better tomorrow;
Or we refuse to let melancholy win
And strive to find peace and serenity within.

image

My heart beats like a drum

My heart just couldn’t decide what to do. It melted a bit because of all the love I felt. And it skipped a beat because beating without you near is not the same.
Come back. And quick, so that our hearts can beat in tune again.

no more running

I am out of breath,
My knees are scrapped,
My clothes torn.
My hair is in knots,
My vision blurry,
And I run away from life.

Until I stop.

You carry me away on your wings,
Your voice says the magic words.
I am desirable, beautiful, valuable.
I deserve your love, your smile, your time.
And the healing begins, within.
Everyone who looks at me can see that I am not running anymore.

You caught me.

Nothing will stay the same.
My smile is brighter.
My thoughts are lighter.
The melody in my heart plays louder
And the fire in my soul sparked a long lost passion.
There is no need to run any further.

I fall; you catch me.
I run; you stop me.
I freeze; you hold me.
I doubt; you love me.
You love me?
You love me!
I love you!

Not for Want of Trying

A song by Maybeshewill. I admit, I listened to this track on Spotify a lot, but only bought it today. Not even 5 minutes ago.

I want you to be mad

That’s actually a genre of music that gets me energized and moving. I’m not too well today. I had another night that was filled with tossing and turning instead of sleeping.

Either way… Who cares, right?

Here’s a link to my bandcamp page. Browse it, maybe you’ll find your new favourite artist there.

https://bandcamp.com/micqu1

Enjoy your day.

xx

Goodbye, my lover

Saying goodbye without feeling a crack in ones heart, is like standing in a museum that is missing its art.
All things happen for a purpose and a reason, like the snow and the blossoms on the tree that appear each season.
Let’s not mourn or be sad, let’s celebrate the good moments we had.
Memories that will guide us through lonely moments, some will let us forget our internal torments.
Goodbye never really is goodbye. Sometimes it’s just another way to say ‘Hi’.
From now on, when I see red and black, and blue and white, my darkest mood will be bathed in light.
That’s your doing, wonderful man, and in a way, I will always be your woman.
And now, although I wish it wasn’t so, I say goodbye and with one last gentle kiss I urge you to go.