truth

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in the garden
of life, truth
grows
amongst
equally
compelling
colours
vying for
attention
and is
often
defined
by the
loudest
or most
visible
to catch
the eye
when heard
amongst the
masses
that in
futility
scream
to try
to blur
the essence
of its
true
measure
like
a beacon
it calls
to those
who
would
listen

grasping reality

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reality2

my sky
my world
with thoughts
I do this world
with joy
conceive
full of wonders
too much
for senses
to capture
and yet
for sanity
with stillness
I must
such boundaries
paint
to limit
meaning
and thus
reality create
from endless
waves
that flow
to reach
the shores
of perception
that inspire
dreams
and to life
reflect

A growing appreciation

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Musings 3

Woke up to a beautiful day and continued to count my blessings.

As I continue to explore the Blogs that surround me, the diversity of styles and emotional content astounds.

It would appear, for the main part, we are all expressing the same emotions and observations in our own ways.

What is interesting, whether you like someone else’s work or not, you cannot help but feel the energy behind their efforts and the clarity of thought they are trying to express. Each blessed with his/her own insights, experiences and their special touches; some carrying a banner of hope, others dragging the chains of despair. But what we all share is the need to be heard.

It strikes me that not every one blogging is seeking fame or great acclaim, most simply want to belong and be with like minded people.

A home from home we seek.
To fill the loneliness in our hearts,
we feel the need to speak.

We all have this moment, an irrepressible urge to share.

Being of simple mind, I am mostly attracted to the light hearted side that speaks of joy, achievements, aspirations, and greatness. But from an expressive artistic perspective opening the heart to the darkness is compelling.

We all have moments when we feel the gamut of emotions from tears to laughter, love to hate, pride to shame, hope to fear, and everything in-between that I have missed. Trying to capture these moments without betraying your inner self is a continual fight for balance between absolute truth and what you want it to be. In the end, we normally arrive at a compromise between mind and heart, that often reflect our ideals and what flows from our mouths and pen.

Our different styles often reflect our emotional states. Some preferring to lightly paint, others may simply stamp their presence. But one thing we all have in common is our determination to be heard.

I don’t always write from first hand experience, but reflect observations; whether it’s a broken heart, a need for silence, a quest for knowledge, love, and acknowledgement. The quality of human empathy allows us to experience them by reaching out to others.

As I mentioned, I write what captures my attention; “Why a Hero?” came from such a process. I was browsing the net and came across a lot of angry voices who perceived that the word “Hero” was being over used and I tapped into that sentiment. I must admit that for the main part, I share an affinity for the traditional use of the word and cherish its more selective meaning. But that’s me. I grew up reading Homers classics, the twelve labours of Hercules, David and Goliath, Samson and Delilah, and the Northern Myths. All these have helped ferment my feel for the word “Hero.” By the way, I forgot to mention Marvel comics (Ha!ha!). Although the word is used for fun in this context, it still clings to the spirit of the word “Hero” albeit a bit OTT.

Having always shunned public attention, I am surprised by how much joy I gain knowing that someone has read my work. Even if it is only a single person, it does not dilute the feeling of elation. But I must admit, I feel drained when I see a “0” on my likes. Maybe it’s the ego speaking, after all a true artist writes for his own personal pleasure, right?

To be able to share an ideal, a thought with another soul is compelling in itself.

Sure expressing truth is at the heart or artistic revelations but unfortunately the little question about whose truth it is gets in the way of this ideal.

Anyway, that’s enough of my ramblings.

That’s my thoughts after 3 weeks of blogging.

From J M Lysun, a curious mind.

Morning breaks

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Image

A ray of light shining in my face, warm and inviting.
The sound of rustling leaves catch my attention.
My thoughts begin to focus.

A smell of freshly cooked bacon floods my nostrils,
pleasantly ending my slumber.
And I awake.

A yawn escapes my lips,
A new day I embrace with outstretched arms.
Now fully rested, I am ready to emerge to a new day,
as morning breaks.

 

J M Lysun