Archive for November 21, 2018

the veiled connection

from google

the veiled connection … 

when two souls connect, far beyond the constraints of place, of that or of this lifetime,

when two hearts connect, thud-thuddingly beating to the same rhyme,

when two minds connect, forging a kinship beyond the shackles of merciless time,

a veiled connection, an intricately woven bouquet of emotions begin to intertwine.

the connection that fuses, melding two people, must be restrained by circumstance and societal norms,

the connection that fuses, melding two people, can hardly be truly known, for love appears in infinite forms,

the connection that fuses, melding her thoughts with mine, caresses each moment as each moment magically transforms.

such are the frivolous machinations of fate,

such are the oblivious workings of time, at times too early, at times just a second or two too late,

such are the truths we realise but at what cost, for the key handed down to us may not be for our specific gate.

the random sense of humour that destiny and fate do often betray, leaves scars, not smiles along the way,

the random sense of humour that life often displays, condemns a soul to the bleakness of the foggy grey,

the random sense of humour that determines who loves, and who doesn’t, seem like a trick that the rolling dice of fate may play.

the timing of a veiled connection forged in destiny’s blurry haze, leaves hearts and souls scorching, ablaze,

the timing of a veiled connection often determines the bends in many pathways, rarely missing a beat to reduce feelings into a series of tragi-comic plays,

and so it goes, that the timing of a veiled connection is crucial to the direction the pendulum of love sways,

more often than not abandoning souls,

to be forever lost in an indecipherable maze …

from google

prejudice 2.0.

when the ghouls emerge, from deep within the recesses of our fungal minds,

our prejudice, our hubris, our misogyny, our racism, seeks fertile ground to take root,

to mutate into a new fangled, subtle fascism,

across breakfast table banter, seeping into politely civil conversation,

digging its claws into the common discourse,

choosing to settle comfortably into binary, zero sum opinions,

to make hate acceptable, if couched in the right language,

to make racism the norm, if sewn into the broader fabric of society,

to make misogyny humorous, a joke to be shared here, or a comment to be sniggered at there,

to make poverty the fault of the poor, branding the vast majority of humans as being simply lazy scum, chattel to be squashed or squeezed dry,

to bask in the ugly cocoon of greed, of ostentatious excess, to deny that privilege has been handed down, generation upon generation,

to gloss over the facts, to polish the brutal past, to spew the notion of not being complicit,

to make these abominable thoughts,

these despicable actions,

these repugnant beliefs,

feel at home again.

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