What is this horizon?

What is this horizon?

Why is it the symbol
For hopes
Dreams
Opportunities

What is this horizon?
Except the markings of a beautiful scene
What does it offer?
Or simply suggest

Does it give rise
To that which lies within?
That lust to which we
Scarcely admit

Powerful as an animal
Reckless as one rabid
That thirsts for freedom
Finds a brethren in chaos

It seeks simply to indulge
And to satisfy its latent indulgent
Desires

One does not oft
Stare upon
The sunset
On the horizon

We are too busy
Restrained in our suits
Arrested by wristwatches
Blocked in by deadlines
Diaries
Confinements

Or maybe we are
Too frightened
Maybe our suits
Deadlines
Wristwatches

Are they restraints we willingly
Snap
Onto our wrists
To protect us from that
Which we fear

That which we don’t speak of.

What is this horizon?
What does it promise?

Unfold

Unfold

You say that you have

Questions

I know that you expect

Answers

I can’t make you any

Promises

Don’t force me to

Reveal Myself

I’m not ready to

Unfold

I’m not the usual

Insecure Type

I’m confident and

Brave – But when it comes

To the

Heart

Here I stand

Wondering what to say

To You

I know you expect

Answers

I’m not the girl

You thought I

Was

Deep down I’m not

So Confident

Deep down I’m not

So Brave

But

Don’t force me to

Reveal Myself

I’m not ready to

Give that Away

Morning Yearning

Morning Yearning

Sky is bright, but your

Heart is dull

Gap is widening

Bridge is crumbling

Pain is a synonym

Overused

Sometimes love is burning

Loss and loneliness stem from the same

Something

Missing

Yearning is desperation

Strengthened over time

Sweetened with

A promise

Of

The end of yearning

It returning

Promises have no essence

Neither does time

Nor does love

Nor heartache

Left to mourn

The naivety

Over

Years of yearning

For it returning

Watch the daybreak

Its beauty

A new day

Same old love

Burning.

I am

I am.

I am the mother who raised me

I am the philosophy that shaped me

I am Jesus who taught me to love

I am my sister who believes in me

I am my father who doesn’t like me and does not care

I am the friends whose lives have taught me how not to live

I am the insecurity that eats me from within

I am the vanity with fragile foundations

I am the arrogance that got me far, won me respect, made me work hard and made me enemies

I am the Italy 03, New York 04, Israel 06, Nigeria 07, Paris 08

I am all the teachers who thought I was wasting my potential

I am everyone who did not think I would get this far

I am the tsunami victims, the 9/11 victims – and when I say victims I mean survivors

I am the individualists also known as the conservatives who care only about themselves and their profits

I am Albert Camus who taught me the hypocrisy of man

I am Barack Obama who replaced my anti-American scepticism with hope

I am Professor Tsu who taught me that even freedom is dictated

I am the Jericho sand that redefined the word “hot” and stressed the importance of sandals

I am Jay Gatsby, believer in all that is idealistic and unrealistic

I am the Big Issue seller who thanks me in an Old Etonian voice

I am the academic structure that I loathe

I am the idiots in Plato’s Cave who refused to believe just because they had not seen

I am every eighteen year old named Victoria in England

I am the male affable directionless protagonists in Haruki Murakami’s novels

I am the hope that drives me towards the light and away from the noose

I am the dream world that I live in

I am the dawn that I like to watch breaking

I am the full moon that sends chills and awe down my spine and into my heart

I am the cynicism through which I view the world

I am… still here