Polar Contrast

Before time, amongst dark and void
the dot that glowed dim white.
giveth life its rebirth overjoyed. Ah, such light.

The rocks dwell spitting extreme flames,
to bind their house white hot;
their faults engrave the landscape wrought.

Calm ashes and snow embraced
to soothe the youth from fire to frost.
The whole face cold white embossed.

To heaven skies, the final reception
with time, fades space and light.
Like its inception, the life it lived and gave glowed white.

I'm trapped in this concrete cage,
rotting down in age;
set the firewood, light it good.
In front of the orange flame I brood.

I wished I watched a real sunset
Before the stone was set;
The orange hues tinted with blue,
Accompanying the wind's coo.

If only I can stop the past
or slow the nuclear blast;
We learnt too late, made mistakes
and put the world at stake.

Is it possible to continue
or start our lives anew?
In monochrome, a so-called home
Without the orange sun we're doomed.

The jaded presence had become apparent,
viridescent personalities rising into light.
For a colour that usually stands for validity,
why is it associated with halting other's flight?

Dickens speaks of the "ivy green",
a foliage that feasts on decrepit dispositions...
Blake choses a different stigma,
comparing it to past ambitions.

Contradictions. Contradictions, and counter statements:
the poignance of the colour green.
For no other shade, no other hue,
is as controversial as this one we've seen.

Why is green on the traffic light?
When it means stop just as easily as it means go.
Why is green so widely pleasing?
This is what we are yet to know.

References:
"The Ivy Green" by Charles Dickens
"The Echoing Green" by William Blake

Never seen, rarely heard,
Veiled verity led astray;
Ardent echo of truth, slurred...

Stringent passion, bloodless pose
Augmented reality-
Radial tales? Purple prose.

Cherry Blossoms

Whilst the world slumbers
Cherry blossoms start to grow
Such delicate grace

Winter snow fading
Atop budding blossom trees
Petals open up

Two lovers below
Lock eyes with one another
They share their first kiss

--

Carnations

Planted on the lawn
The urban florets start bloom
Carnations open

Delicate petals
Pickable pieces of joy
No one can forget

Kids pass the front lawn
And stop to smell the flowers
The joyous scent sings

Blue is a colour, foremost of the primaries
Bold in stature, yet brash in abundance
Singular in its separation from siblings yellow and red
Divided beneath the canopy of meanings aplenty

Blue is the sky, peaceful in tranquillity
Bright cheer of the day, night in its serenity
Yet beneath the façade, not all is as seems
Dusk and dawn, red armies spreading afar

Blue is the ocean, cool and serene
Untouched by the fire that stymies the heavens
The azure once more hides a deeper reality
Mere moments below reveal the black of its truth

Blue is the sapphire, clear cut and pristine
The beauty of diamond, yet overlooked still
Buried beneath tonnes of its common stone kin
Its intricate core remains lost for eternity

Blue is my heart, as the facts become clear
The rock behind the waterfall, the brick beyond the veil
My soul aches for a purity not to be
A turgid soul obscured by the curtain of peace

Blue – so calm, yet so cruel.

Eat, eat, eat. Eat something cold to fight the heat;
Chew, chew, chew, and don't forget the lovely brew.
To restaurants I hop, I'm something you can't stop;
Dine with me, dine with me, dine with the Gluttony.

Munch, munch, munch. Get something hard to crunch;
Gulp, gulp, gulp, empty the crumpled plastic cup.
The bar opens today, my visit I must pay,
Feast with me, feast with me, feast with the Gluttony.

You can sew your mouth shut tight;
you can run with all your might.
But I'm part of you, sins I shall do!
Revel with me, revel with me, revel with the Gluttony.

Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw, until your gums bleed raw;
Gorge, gorge, gorge, even when stuffed you must still forge.
Everything is going well, our destination will be Hell;
Binge with me, binge with me, binge as the Gluttony.

Supreme stability?
Thoughtless devotion-
Ego's abolition.

Defying divinity?
Insurgent emotion-
Avowing volition.

Is Eve's "Choice" really something that you disagree with?

Welcome monsieur/madamoiselle kindly
to the grand arts bistro of all.
Preferred clothes accoutred are suits burgundy,
thus most formal for the buffet room ball.

We eagerly serve with pride
only one dish they out call the Entrée,
stuffed with full tufts of food worldwide.
All at one price, reduced on said please.

Like wedding cake, three course plate lay;
A caesar kani salad as lemons are peeled,
a supper upturned as seasons do play,
cream fruit dessert to complete the big meal.

Savoury beef and chicken both compliment,
saffron imported, tofu and milk soy.
Turkeys curries and duck dip condiments -
peas and string beans wrapped in pak choi.

Any more you do ask as sides for the dish?
Perhaps noodles, pasta or candy we assume?
Ah finality, in brutality we wish
as cannibals we enjoy feasting on you!

Food gives us life, sustenance, being.
It stops our time from running out.
But one sad day,
There will be no more.

All of it, gone.

The blackberries will be spoilt,
The bananas will be overripe,
The chocolate will be bitter.
The cake will be unforgiving.

Nothing edible: nothing.

The sources dissipating,
our stomachs wish to gorge even more,
A vicious cycle, no solution:
just like everything else.

Cruel, forbidding, aching pain - unstoppable.

Nothing ever lasts forever:
the first moral ever taught.
So why do we choose to ignore this,
when it comes to hunger?

Eyes bigger than our stomachs.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
An eternal truth of any existence
Earth to earth, the smallest seeds do travel
A circular journey, the Mobius strip of creation

The tiny acorn becomes a mighty tree
A newborn child, brimming with potential
Beneath warming rays, fragile shoots break their bonds
No more constricted by a prison of sand

An ocean of gold, gleaming waves run ashore
A shining cascade of the sweat of the brow
‘Fore the Autumn sun begins its descent
Fall once again, the year’s toil reaps bounty aplenty

From ground to grind, mill of the golden ears
The chalky powder from which all else does spring
An eccentric concoction, coalescing ‘neath a sun of glass
‘Til grain no more, an appetite sated by the breaking of bread

Past the lips and over the tongue
The gaping maw of the throat encompasses all
A crushing pressure, a fluid that burns
Golden flecks warped, blackened, then no more

‘Til the conveyor of nature ends the cycle
Drained of health, casually discarded
Awaiting the passing of a new generation
For it is but dust, and to dust it shall return

Sizzling, steaming, puddles of oil,
together the flavors begin to align

Chopping, braising, endless toil,
combine to make a dish divine

Whisk the eggs and set the oven,
no room for mistakes today

Find the perfect wines to summon,
to produce an elegant flambé

Coriander, cumin, countless spices,
in unison they’re a spice beast

Top it off with pepper slices,
And finally you've made:

An epic feast.

The rock base rotates
gently to savour the Sun,
but not too much to heat up
nor freeze in entirety of space.
'But what if-'

Every year the big boulder revolves,
six months the miners wait
to either be burned or be frozen,
which doesn't matter, they have thick suits on.
'Alright, can we skip to-'

Slowly and slowly they wait,
in the darkness of space, no...
In the dim lights of their battery lamps.
Ah, a bit of depression there, unfortunately.
'Now does it start?'
Yes, my darling, yes it does.

Then with beeps and whoosh comes the utility ship
coming to refuel the generators with their light;
egad those sparkling lights! Like stars you could touch!
Families and workers came to crowd the windows -
what else did they feel? There was awe, happiness and laughter.
Their hands waving, clapping! A few cheer whistles sneaked in
from the rear. You could hear triumph coming from the men outside!
It all happened like the entire station leaped in joy. Wow!
There must have been some way of recording that precious moment.

But alas, my love, none of us owned a working camera.
As the ship undocked and departed, all left to their routines
in depression and regret. They pick up their lamps and go.
In the same reaction, the rock kept turning and turning on and on...
'But father, doesn't that ship come every three days?'
Yes, my darling, yes it does.

The stars,
a usual symbol of hope in an otherwise cosmos of nothingness,
new romantics wish upon their divine nature,
just to see them disintegrate.

The moon,
a gravitating force like no other;
incomparable to that of the planets, yet able to crush us in an instant,
inevitable; unstoppable.

The sun,
a ball of gas that gives the world its sustenance,
but this that gives us life, will be the thing that ends us all,
survival: impossible.

The planets,
reminding us that we won't ever be able to reach them,
ever be able to walk our tiny footsteps on their great pathways,
know them: never.

Stars shine even through the blackness of space
As a new horizon approaches
And as we leave another behind

The incredible constant of light
That which defies the laws that man must abide
And weaves bright pathways in the infinite quilt of the universe
To guide us through uncharted realms

There is no boundary that cannot be crossed
And
There is no world that cannot be entered

As the stars create stepping stones to
Discovery and Intelligence

Even through the blackness of space.

The concept of space is a curious thing
A vast emptiness, never to be filled
Yet for our little corner, there is never enough
Nothing is space, but space is all

A matter of perspective, a gargantuan battle unfolds
The collision of two worlds rends life asunder
But beneath the inky covers of the cosmos
All remains calm, a cataclysm that has never been

As we gaze out from our fragile world
The people trapped within the globe of snow
Staring eternally at the room beyond
Dwarfed to insignificance by the black of the void

But all things must come to an end
The galactic ballet slows, the stars leave their seats
A desolate wasteland, what once was no more
Mighty giants toppled by the passage of time

Congratulations, player, you've won.
You have completed the series
of a franchise officially done,
except a few spin-offs and DLCs.

Most of your time and effort have gone
into this experience taken years
to make, especially if campaigns are long,
and multiplayer that brought you to tears.

From the eyes of the character models
to the view of the bird far above the field
you surveyed the game at full throttle
everywhere which information FAQs yield.

Each game varied through mechanics and story;
what was different? Class specialisation?
Maybe new skills, attacks that flurry!
There were no limits to customisation.

What am I you ask? It's simple rather.
You may choose what you want to see me as.
I am the regret where time you cannot regather,
or another life goal you finished at last.

Scale mountains, walk valleys
Shuffle through crowded alleys
Across seas, in ship’s galleys
Reach the castle: the finale
Defeat it, then rally
For another adventure
A new world with every touch.

Create life in high definition
With each new addition
To make Individuals with a special mission
Or simply acting of their own volition
In a finished persona, there is no repetition
A new character with every click.

Watch the world unfold
Create memories unforetold
With complete control
A new experience with every moment.

"Game Over" slogans pop up onscreen,
is it just you or is this unfairly obscene?
You did the deed,
You fulfilled the creed,
So why has all that progress been cleaned?

You think to yourself while perusing your collection,
Perhaps these games don't deserve your affection:
You play them all day
You fight, battle, slay,
But maybe it's time to announce your defection.

Why play a game that has no objective?
This has all been put it into perspective:
Why waste your time.
Trying to mine?
It's the same debate for the whole collective.

Next time you want to play, just abstain,
Let your hands rest, don't make your eyes strain:
For in an hour,
You'll lose the willpower
And you know you'll grab that controller again.

Killing is gleeful, the combos are great
How could it not - I am not second-rate
My parents merely give me all the hate
But I feel like these hands are not mine

The screen tinkles, hurting my eyes
My skin turns opaque in the lack of the skies
My minds wanders... "Oh come on guys!"
But I feel like these hands are not mine

I win every game, the thrill is addicting
I hate the haters, they seem restricting
But I seem ambivalous, my mind conflicting
Because I feel like these hands aren't mine

Now I see the truth, my addiction is bad
I wasted all the great opportunities I had
But now, the addition of sunlight is glad
All because I felt those hands weren not mine

Imagine a world fighting darkness together
Imagine a world where it’s treasure you seek
Imagine a world where an evil is rising
In need of a hero to end its black reach

Imagine a world where you create your adventure
Imagine a world where only you’re in control
Imagine a world where you build your structures
Imagine it's you that the legends foretold

A fantastical world of another’s design
A moment’s release from our pathetic existence
An escape from the humdrum of this grey world
The weight of our burdens being lifted awhile

To those who wish to guilt remember
Before you accuse my ways of being pointless
I don’t play games because I have no life
I play games because I choose to have many

Then all becomes one
And one becomes all

Quickly! Mind your head, and step inside with me,
Let's go sit under that large sorrel tree.
Watch the birds soar,
I'll give you the tour,
Come join me inside the aviary!

He grabbed my hand and headed for the tree,
Even after protesting, he wouldn't let me be,
He sat me down,
Twisted my frown,
And said welcome to the aviary.

You're looking quite ashen, pale like green tea
just focus on the birds, watch them with me,
as light as a feather,
we'll watch them together,
focus on the birds in the aviary.

His voice wouldn't go away: persistent like banshee,
I tried to stammer up refusal, and I tried to plea
His voice was relentless,
Seemingly endless,
It filled up the whole of the aviary.

Just like fruit of the poisonous tree,
My birds require togetherness, complete guarantee:
They're never usually awry,
And only a couple have died
But my apiary is lovely, don't you agree?

I focussed on the birds, they were all I could see,
flying on the backdrop of the old sorrel tree,
thoughts whirred past,
I understood at last,
This wasn't even an aviary.

Then the man leaned in and whispered to me,
I'm the same as you, why can't you see?
I'm just an illusion,
causing delusion,
We're both just a mental escapee.

The skies will always be dyed a deep blue
As the crows fly by and the sparrows fly, too
Above houses and across canyons
Seldom will the fowls be landing
As hummingbirds below frolic, singing a jovial tune.

The ground will always be so far away
For eagles atop trees that stay there each day
Watching young that will soon have eagle kids of their own
As the hatchlings jump out to soar; "They have flown!"
The birds love that will never decay.

The clouds will never be out of their reach
As the birds soar over trees: pine, birch, oak and beech
Taming mountains with their prowess of flight
All birds possessing a particular might
That they, together have an ability nobody else can teach.

Let one consider the eagle
By many said to be regal
It swoops and it dives
Sharp talons, takes lives
This ain’t your ordinary seagull

Piercing eyes sweeping the ground
A wisdom most hard to confound
Like ghosts in the night
When owls take flight
Reflexes made to astound

The kingfisher explodes into view
It hunting beginning anew
A fish in its beak
It flies from the creek
With not a feather askew

Should one gaze out at the sky
And think about creatures that fly
It’s plain as day
That these birds of prey
Are rulers, let no-one deny