Tag Archives: Poetry

Am I Good Enough for You? (A Mini Opera)

Posted in Poetry English by
galatea_and_polyphemus_by_thesecondbus_d7y0cde-fullview-1

This is the final dialogue between the miserable and desperate Polyphemus, and the idealistic Galatea - the helpless lover and the arrogant nymph.

Myth says that once upon a time, even before the birth of time itself, the Cyclops Polyphemus saw Galatea, the nymph, and fell in love with her. But there was a dilemma as he was large and ugly, while she was a perfect beauty. No matter how much he loved Galatea and no matter what he sacrificed for her, she did not accept his love. Finally, doomed and cursed, Polyphemus threw rocks at Galatea and her lover. As a punishment, he was transformed into a river destined to flow amongst the wild mountains forever - alone and miserable.

‘With a heart filled with love and my words so true,

am I good enough for you?

With my mind fixed on you and my soul without a clue,

am I good enough for you?’

He asks Galatea while the shadows of doubt line his single dark eye.

‘No, I am afraid not!’ She smiles at him coldly, untouched by his bitter misery.

‘No matter how hard you try,

you may scream or you may cry

No matter how long you try,

you may bleed or you may die

You’ll never be good enough for me

No matter how high you fly,

you may kiss the earth or may reach the sky

No matter how sincerely you pry,

you may shout or you may sigh

You’ll never be good enough for me’

‘But what if I change, and what if I transform?

What if I become the sunlight after a storm?’

He pleads with eyes filled with all the sadness in the world.

‘No, still no!’ She replies adamantly with steely resolve gleaming in her blue eyes

‘Even if you change and even if you evolve,

from a thorn to a rose, you may transform

Even if you become godly,

and God Almighty Himself approves your form

You’ll never be good enough for me

Even if you evolve

to all my rules, you may conform

Even if you become Adonis,

and loving you becomes a norm

You’ll never be good enough for me’

‘And why is that so?

Why a strict adherence to status quo?’

Looking down, he asks, dejection underlining his desperate whisper.

‘Well that’s a good question.’ She looks at him with pity.

‘You don’t matter,

and you don’t matter at all

Whatever you may do,

either very big or just very small

You may bang your head,

against a high stone wall

You may bloody your fists,

you may stand or may even crawl

Whatever you do is useless,

and you will always fall’

‘Then what should I do?

For my love is so true!’

Polyphemus raises his arms and begs till he is hoarse.

‘That is but for you to decide!’ Galatea decrees with finality — her voice etched in stone.

‘You may die a lonely death,

or you may burn forever

You may fade with the harsh wind,

or you may pray to whomever

You may make great plans,

or you may do something clever

You may aspire big and grand,

or you may rise to whatever

Whatever you do is hopeless,

and I will be yours, oh never!’

‘Silence! You, the wretched lover!

Silence! Yo,u the arrogant queen!’

The skies go dark, and the voice of Zeus booms from above.

‘Quit this nonsense, let your arguing be done

Love is a godly trait, and not a race to be won

You are both mistaken, individually and as one

You are both misguided; logic is what you shun

The capability to love is what’s desired by everyone,

an unfulfilled dream, under the moon and the sun

Polyphemus! You can love, you will be a god in the long run

Galatea! For denying true love, my blessings for you are none’

 

No Need for Metamorphosis

Posted in Poetry English by
metamorphosis_by_crisvector_du8k4b-fullview

A meditation on futility, longing, and the ache of wanting what was never ours.

___________________________________

No need for metamorphosis and change,

when the change won’t ever change the mind

Of all the shooters standing on the range,

people I love, both the hateful and the kind

___________________________________

No use of running and panting with ambition,

when the path doesn’t really lead anywhere

I should only walk and with complete submission,

trudging down the dark lands of nowhere

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No need for dreaming of fragrant flowers,

when the vine is bound to wither one day

People only like to sit in high, mighty towers,

their love and affection, always held at bay

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No use of reaching for the shining stars,

when the stars aren’t really meant for me

What is not ours and will never be ours,

shape-shifting shadows, as I behold and see

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No need for claiming loyalty and true love,

when all the desperate pleas fall on deaf ears

Hearts filled with a poisonous, fuming brew,

eyes darkened with memories and fears

I am Evil, I Admit (Previously, Beliefs and Perceptions)

Posted in Poetry English by
d2f0pf6-2e902122-a8b0-4103-83f2-08c13329ac70

A confession wrapped in irony — when being called ‘evil’ hurts less than being called unloving.

_______________________________

Your belief in me being utterly bad,

your perception of me as evil is so sad

It is stronger than your belief in God,

but you love it, though it may be flawed

I don’t mind it, and I don’t mind it at all;

I am now falling, and I may fall

_______________________________

Your belief in me being so lowly,

to you is holier than the most holy

Seeing me as the devil’s spawn,

your words in stone, etched and drawn

I don’t mind it, and I don’t mind it at all;

I am now falling, and I may fall

_______________________________

Your belief in me being so depraved,

your faith in morals, preserved and craved

Seeing me as the fodder of red hell,

your prophecy is true, let us all yell

I don’t mind it, and I don’t mind it at all;

I am now falling, and I may fall

_______________________________

Your belief in me being so devious,

is your allegation, the most serious

Seeing me as sneaky and scheming,

you are alarmed, heralds are screaming

I don’t mind it, and I don’t mind it at all;

I am now falling, and I may fall

_______________________________

But your belief in me being unloving,

is your most hurtful and deeply cutting

Perceiving me as a liar and exploiter,

no reason, no logic, I am just a manipulator?

I do mind it a bit, and I do mind it a lot;

I will but, fall, you have hit a soft spot

Questions that I often Ask Myself

Posted in Poetry English by
puzzle_by_shadowtuga_d2wcvhe-fullview

Who am I? What am I? What is my existence? Where am I heading? What will become of me?—Five questions, no answers, only increasingly dark possibilities.

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Who am I,

when I laugh so loud, and also when I cry?

Am I a terrible figment of God’s imagination,

or perhaps, as I often tell myself, a mirthful lie?

Perhaps, I am what was meant to be discarded,

or maybe, to be ignored carelessly, or meant to die

___________________

What am I,

when I beg and beseech, looking up to the sky?

Am I a chaotic and messy pile of junk and trash,

or perhaps a weird collection of impossible thoughts?

Perhaps, I am a useless and wasteful hand of tarot,

a card with no picture or symbol, only stains and dots

___________________

What is my existence,

when I examine my state from some distance?

Is this just a never-ending nightmare, 

or perhaps just sand slipping through my grasp?

Perhaps, there is really nothing that I truly have,

and maybe the rope of hope is just a venomous asp

___________________

Where am I heading,

with a resolve all strong, and my wings all spreading?

Am I diving headfirst into an unfathomable abyss,

or perhaps heading towards doom, with a loud roar?

Perhaps, I am driving down the road to hell,

while the shadow of doubt grows even more

___________________

What will become of me,

will I ever know for sure, and will I ever see?

Will I always be searching for what I dream of,

or is the door just locked forever, and there is no key?

Perhaps, what I touch, will one day become gold,

but by then, all the light will be lost to the dark sea

When Love is the Last Illusion (Previously, the White Dove of Hope)

Posted in Poetry English by

Condemned by fate, and mocked by hope, until one dangerous word appears – love.

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Oh, you sad children of a time so evil and dark,

you are all the product of undesirable circumstances.

Your love always went stale before it could spark,

though you availed all the emerging chances

_________________________

You were the anomaly in the grand scheme;

you should have been smothered when born

Sadly, the plan remained only a dream;

though conceived by the Devil with open scorn

_________________________

You knew while you grew, you had no roots;

you were the useless moss clinging to a boulder

You had no character, no faith, and no attributes,

yet the burdens of life, you carried on your shoulder

_________________________

But you all survived, and yet you go on living;

for what purpose, may I ask in all sincerity

When both fate and life are so unforgiving,

your sustained survival becomes a vulgarity

_________________________

Desist! I suggest, or surrender, I would advise;

nothing will help you persist or even grow

Throw the cards down; please be a little wise,

just cease all efforts and go with the flow

_________________________

What did you just say? Do I hear the word ‘love’?

Yes, perhaps, love is the only solace you may ever find

It is your golden butterfly, a beautiful white dove,

in a world filled with hatred, this word sounds so kind

_________________________

Go on then, caress its warmth while you can,

till the white dove forsakes and abandons you

You will be all done with life; there is no other plan,

nothing else over the horizon for you to view