Posted in life, philiosophy, Poems, thoughts

the carnivore

Two years ago

I embraced its fangs,

the shred and torment of its teeth,

the passionate pollution of it.

The carnivore ekes out it’s living

from the silver tears of youthful hearts

but it bows to one greater,

palmed paradise,

palmed,

the cunning of laced skepticism,

blind rage,

and carnivorous letters read eagerly in dim light.

For I have a spliced heart,

divided infinitely

and through its trenches trails barbed wire,

the thorns of disregarded wisdom. 

It lurks in tangled shadows,

shifting shapes with eternal joy.

Still, we all buy a ticket

to drench ourselves in the honeyed sensulality of the carnivore.

-Eva M.M.

Thank you as always my little ink angels for reading and sharing your thoughts with me in the comments below.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

Posted in life, philiosophy, Poems, thoughts

💡

I heard the light.

A mind suspended above/beyond the suspension of existence.

The ying-yangular intermingling of thought

                                            chilled breath

                                                                 and

the clayascular impression of life upon death,

razor blade(d) air upon paper-mache lungs;

for I have kissed

the welding art of it.

The multilayered, subatomic, submerging of the curvature of falling,

spiraling

into the gruelling and pulverising twang of uncertainty.

Be.

Breaths apart.

                  Unmarred flesh.

                                     The concave complexity of continuity.

Perpetual.

Floating

through

floating.

The danger of believing

                             i am

                            immune

                           to being.                

 

The void devoid of the absence of non-existence.

Free.

The prison of security in solid ground

I have drowned myself in my own stability.

In sanity

there is hesitation.

 

                       Cardovascular corruption of the cosmos/chaos.

Hiatus from hiatus

is

being

excruciatingly alive.

-Eva M.M.

I adore this poem and really hope that you see the many layers that fell into place within it. Thank you for reading, commenting, asking questions and everything in between and beyond.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow,my ink would cease to flow.”

Posted in life, philiosophy, Poems, thoughts

Excruciatingly alive #1

I run until my lungs burn,

scream until they burst,

weep until they regenerate.

 To know

what it is

to be excruciatingly alive.

to breathe in pain

and bleed out agony.

The surface–earth–my skin–

fear upon fear

that propels nothing more than fear.

The manifestation of manifestation

manifesting itself in the labyrinth.

To exist is  caustic,

the corroding of a brittle question mark,

pang after reverberating pang

from the epicentre of a sizzling atmosphere,

pungent, fumigated air of uncertainty.

Spin into me,

blurred wisdom,

a reflection of the reflection

of a million mirrored reflections

reflecting one another

in the mirrored reflection

of my baby blue eyes,

clouded–

the weight of the world hides away there,

they know

what it is

to be

excruciatingly alive.

-Eva M.M.

This is another one of my favourite poems I have ever written. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

Posted in life, philiosophy, Poems, thoughts

existence

This existence is a translucent question mark

wavering in the absence of absence

that is absent from those that are not

but hovering words and hesitant breaths

upon the surface of what we believe to be

… floating

we are but feathers, floating.

We name what we see

and so it is as it never was

or will be

but what we dream

in our slumber of life

, for what is death but an awakening,

rebirth, we are but born into a world

that is nothing more than the chambers of our minds,

illusory,

stable footing that is built upon instability,

the labyrinth of the labyrinth,

the spiralling spiral of concentric thought;

We are but the centre, the core of all that is

not

but the continual continuation of continuity itself,

endlessly ending what has no end,

the endless eternity of eternity ending

and beginning in, what is, never was,

the eye opening eye of a blind existence

is a translucent question mark…..

 

-Eva M.M.

This is one of my favorite things I have ever written so I just hope everybody reads it super slowly, multiple times and gets all the meaning out and though I adore constructive criticism, I will probably just ignore it on this poem… but if you are confused I would love to talk for hours in the comments about it all.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

Posted in life, philiosophy, quote corner, thoughts, Uncategorized

Quote Corner: Be a Fountain.

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When I came across this quote I spent the first few minutes with my nose scrunched up because I found it both cheese and false; However, it was after the fifteenth time reading it through when I realised that was a lot of wisdom in it after all. It is not the best way of thinking about life and with what attitude we ought to approach it but it does give us a visual that we can learn a lot from.

Drains suck all of the gross things from the sink,tub,container. When we let things go down the drain they are negative things, things that we desire to throw away,wash away and dispose of.

Fountains are used as entertainment, art forms, and in other cases to water plants in nature and to bring water to thirsty people in public places. These are all good things.

This may seem really obvious to you but by being a drain , so to speak, we are draining the joy from our and others lives, treating it like something to be thrown away as if it was never there. However, when we act as a fountain we are bringing joy into the world.

Be a fountain!

Be the joy in somebody’s life.

-Eva M.M.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my thoughts would cease to flow.”

Posted in life, philiosophy, thoughts, Uncategorized

Humanism in voting.

I myself was not able to vote this year but I still had a lot to think about in regards to the elections. I personally don’t want to make this a battle ground for political views but rather speak of something I find a hardship in this entire process for me. As a humanist, I care about the respect, love, and care for each and every human being upon this earth above our country , an individual state,group,party,policy…etc…etc, all of which do play into trying to make sure we do what is in the best interest of each individual, or at least that is the idea behind this all. I get that this is all easier said then done or at least it is to anybody who thinks that we must go about this one way or another ,blind to the realization that the only way to truly respect, love and care for each human being is not an act of creating laws that institute this for the vast majority but rather an act that must stem from each and every one of our hearts. It is sad to me that few can see this and that many of those that do give up because they think their own actions are insignificant in the grand scheme of things.I think that whole attitude of needing this system, whoever runs it and however they decided to run it, is wrong in many ways. I also think that we have our priorities jumbled severely. Are we voting to make our country better? Are we voting to make our own lives better? Are we voting so that we can  live a life we find easier,happier,safer? Well, that is all great in many ways. I do want to live in a better country and vote for a person I think will make my life happier and safer. That really is a great  thing to aspire to. The real problem is not that we want to aspire to these goals bur rather that we want to reach these goals before the more important matter ,not our loyalty to our country first but our loyalty to humanity as a whole. There are surely some candidates throughout this whole process that at least appear to have at heart a more diplomatic concern for people in general and not just America.I love America. I have freedoms and privileges here that many people do not have elsewhere. I do think that no matter what happens with these elections, somehow it will all be fine , mostly because I personally don’t really value our governmental system as having any real power.When it comes to the act of placing your ballot in the box I would hope you did not only run the questions of your own personal interests and the interests of this country through your head. If I could have voted these elections, I am not entirely sure who I would have voted for but based on being a humanist I know who I could not have voted for. Though I missed the mark and could not vote I still have voted each and every day for something more important that I hope whoever becomes our president will realize and hold at heart.We are choosing the fate of our country and in doing so also altering the course of many lives of others outside of our country. Whose lives will America value lower than our own? Whose life do you value less then your own?Think about those things not only when you come across any voting situation but also as you go about your daily life. We are all human.

Let me know your thoughts on this in the comments below and thank you for reading.

-Eva M.M.

 

Posted in life, philiosophy, thoughts, Uncategorized

‘But you promised…’

” But you promised..”

Growing up in what I consider a large family in comparison to most these days,surrounded by an even larger network of extended family, I heard those words a lot.Now older I still hear it from my younger cousins and from the children in the five differnet families I babysit for. That hurt call of a child not getting what they were promised and pleading for it , reminding the promiser that after all they did promise it.I, like many ,when I am the promiser find myself torn between keeping what to me seemed like a silly promise and between giving the child what they want.Most of the time when I make those promises it is to get something on my end of the deal: example, if you pick up your toys real good today you can have some ice cream; And after all of the toys are cleared away the little mind chirps up, “Can I have some ice cream now?” This is usually when I realize that I had simply said that to get them to do something, which is not the best method of going about things but somtimes seems to be the only way to go about things.Then you look in the freezer and realize you don’t even have any ice cream to give them so even if you wanted to you could not keep that promise.It may seem that all the kids care about is the end goal not the promise itself, the ice cream and not your disloyality. I can almost agree with that, even I feel the same when somebody breaks a promise to me; first, anger at not getting what they told me I would and second; heart shattering hurt at having my trust in them violated. Children do think on a much simpler scale, SOMETIMES, but I think that is is vastly unfair to think that all they care about is that bowl of ice cream. A person’s word choice can say a lot about how they feel about something even if it seems they aren’t processing it like that. I have had children in that situation say ” But I want ice cream.” The fact that a kid says ” but you promised,” seems to me to be more of a trust violation then hunger for a sugary dessert.A promise is full of trust,love, loyalty and hope for something to come. Some of the biggest promises ever made would have changed the entire world if they had not been kept, and it took a lot of trust for both parties to make those promises.I know when we are exhausted and need little children to listen, sometimes we find that a little promise of ice cream, a little bribe so to speak, works best. I also think that it may seem so small and insignificant that we never think about it, but those are promises too and some of the first encounters with promises our youth will get. Do we want our children to grow up thinking we are distrustful or that they ought to be? Do we want our children to grow up feeling like they will always have to remind us that we promised? Worse of all, do we want them to grow up KNOWING  that we will never keep our promises to them?

I think there is a lot of mistrust in our world currently. some of which seems to be based on the reality of what we face each and every day: Can you  envision a world where we all trust each other more and keep our promises? I can! It looks a lot like the care, innocence and boldness upon a child’s face.

I would love to hear how you think of this situation and if it made you see promises any differently. Thank you as always for reading and sharing your thoughts with me.

-Wishing you the brightest of days,Eva

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.’

 

Posted in life, philiosophy, thoughts, Uncategorized

Back to school–Senior Year.

For me making it to senior year has seemed like a never ending journey. I remember when I first started seventh grade I began counting off the years I had till I would graduate and now it still seems far off. In reality I know it is right around the corner and as it seems to happen, times flies by faster the older you get. I am starting school again this Thursday and am proud to say I made it to senior year a very different person than I was five years ago.I think some of the biggest growth I had was in between eighth and ninth grade and towards the end of last year into this year. I am more motivated, determined and excited for what the world has to offer me but I am busier and taking on more.Right now, I am battling a lot of fears, which want to take over my inner sanctuary and fill it with stress and disorder. There is definitely a lot on my mind and schedule. I have applications to start filling out, essays to write, the ACT to study for and amidst all of that my mind seems to be teeming with more thoughts and stories to be told than ever before. Not only that but there is the constant battle of standing strong in the face of being questions for my aspirations. Just the other day I was asked how I planned to make money. I don’t really have a plan. i don’t really think about money like that. I just know I will work hard and do what I love and if that isn’t enough to get be by I will have a new learning experience until I can get back to living my dream. I will say as I always do. I am not stupid enough to believe that everything will go my way in life nor am I naive enough to think that my way is the only way. Just because my way doesn’t pan out does not mean there won’t be way. Life goes on and while I know it is important to think ahead and be prepared I also think there is a lot of negativity placed on just going with whatever life brings for you. I think there needs to be more emphasis and positivity towards that. Life should not be written down in a pocket book or penciled into a calendar life ought to be living and doing things you may not have seen coming, in doing so you will learn so much more then even school will teach you and collect an abundance of joy. You can’t plan to be creative or spontaneous you just are … You just take everything life puts on your plate and sample it and see what enriches your life. You let it all be and stop being this or that and instead just be. So how will I make a living or get by in life? I just will be … I will make my living by living and loving and writing and creating and enjoying and being.That is the ultimate lesson I think we all need to learn in life. A lesson I won’t be taught in school this year, though I am ready to learn other lessons there, new worlds around every corner.SO  cheers and luck for my senior year!

Daily Post-Learning

-Wishing you the brightest of days,Eva

Let me know your thoughts in the comments below.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

Posted in life, philiosophy, thoughts, Uncategorized

The Luxury of Simplicity.

Here is some food for thought. If everything that we consider a necessity was truly the necessary things to survive, and we took away all of the so called luxuries in life… Would we not only be defining true necessity but also true luxury. In fact, in simplicity there is a kind of luxury greater than any leather seated car or newest gadget to improve your life. In simplicity is luxury.

 

As it is better said by this quote. Luxury is really more of a state of mind than something that is bought with a bundle of green.And while I think we do still need to take time and money aside to buy useless things that make us happy, because that is good for us in a different way, I still am a firm believer in the luxury of simplicity.

Luxury is in each detail.

Without the clutter and chaos of all the ” luxuries” in life, one may find themselves surrounded instead by the nature ” luxuries”. The little things around us that make life beautiful and an continual, joyous endeavour. That is the simplicity in life itself that I adore, and that is a luxury I can get on board for.

Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts in the comments below.This was

via Daily Prompt: Luxury   so go click that link so check out even more great posts by other authors about luxury.  Luxury.

-Wishing you the brightest of days,Eva

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

Posted in life, philiosophy, thoughts, Uncategorized

New York City ( Part 1)

We all have  our preconceived  notions of places like the big apple,but these are so greatly influenced  by T.v,books,movies and the opinions of others, that it all becomes so muddled and crammed in our minds that we end up not really having any idea what to expect.For me, I somehow always imagined that when I  first saw NYC it would be a dramatic and awe-striking experience of me floating in on some cloud , high above the skyscrapers and drifting delicately down into Times Square.This just goes to show how much my own preconceived  notions of NYC  were tainted by the outside world’s ever looming  influence. Instead, for us ,we took a train from Newark Penn Station in New Jersey to the World Trade Center.   At our arrival at the Newark station ,we found ourselves focusing on the classic confusion of navigating the under labeled and intricate  network of the station, which we were ignorant of at the time but would soon learn was 10 times easier than the NYC  subway  system.  As we rushed around, finally seeking directions from an employee,  I felt the tension of the city settle into my bones–an exhaustion I saw on the faces bustling and shuffling past me –I wondered if it would ever be lifted.How, I thought can people ever just accept that the fatigue is going to rest there eternally until they themselves are eternally put to rest?Then, as we finally figured it out and sat on the train to the World Trade Center,  it felt as if my coffin were sealed for the next two days. I was going to have to be a part of that fatigue faced state, so I looked at my own , already worn out face,in the reflection of the train doors as they slid shut and I listened to the whirl of the train’s motor and the murmur of the conductor’s  indectectable directions.The din of life–the sound of a city waking up for the day. I listened and watched and then we were there.Then I walked out onto the street and got my first underwhelmed  view of NYC.That day after we left the 9/11 Memorial and museum and began walking,  I got my first feel for the speed and pace of NYC , which seems to run on its very own track.The way the car horns beeped and the tires  went uhher–uhher on the pavement and the way the pedestrians weaved in and out and around  one another.Business  men and women dressed up, speeding on the outskirts of the walking mass , some coffee in hand– others with their phones pressed to their ears ,walking as if programmed only stopping when a car darted in front of them or a slower pedestrian  impeded their journey forward.And then there were the mothers and children–hands held, strollers bumping gently over the curbs as they tried not to get trapped by the rush.Then there were those like us, tourists looking  around trying to take it all in and walk fast and just breathe.The sounds, the sights, all of which might be seen and found and heard in any other city on earth, coming together in a way that seemed utterly different than any other place I’ve been before.And I hated it yet wanted to see more all at once.Somewhere admidst that unique ticking of time we found a place to charge ourselves and phones and after that, we crazily walked from Lower Manhattan  all the way to Times Square. We let our feet mechanically hit the streets as we veered like tiny ants around people and the ever changing atmosphere  that is NYC. And NYC  seemed to me to be somewhat of a chameleon,  morphing the match the air around it.One minute bustling and business  like , the next a fast flowing river — still speedy but calmed and more serene — only to be interrupted by a swaying motion, yet again fast but in a different way entirely. Yes, NYC  seemed to sway at times and it was not only the tall, shiny buildings ,which appeared to literally sway as the clouds floated past them as you gazed up , nor was it the motion of the crowds as the heads bobbed up and down and sunglasses glistened in the light but it seemed that somehow the very nature and essence of the city itself was swaying.It seemed to be gently rocking to its own melody, a cacophony  of beeps,yells, shouts, clattering,wheels– as if somebody tools the sounds of battle and the sounds of small town life and compressed them into a grilled panini  smothered in a creamy sauce of gossip  and obligation. The city swayed to this melody, occasionally lessening its  tempo or changing the volume,  the bass, the rhythm,  but constantly dancing — And the motion of the pedestrians legs  as the streets were filled by life ,mimicked this.Then there was the architecture–the old thrown in with the new, the shiny,sunkissing  buildings and the squat, stone stacked buildings all linked, holding hands ,screaming unity and separation all at once.The intricate carvings on some of their facades battling with the height and might of others.And once again this was mimicked  on the streets by the people.The young and the old. The tall and the short. The personalities  of each individual  saturating the streets. Red hair. Brown hair. Blue hair. No hair– And people, people, world’s of their own–Everywhere!My feet hurt , the arches burned but still I let my feet move forward and I let myself become one of those personalities blurring into the impressionist  painting that is NYC,  another stroke on the canvas–blurry but still clearly NYC.At Times Square we sat and watched. The buildings  that were T.V’S  of there own. Screens everywhere and people and it all felt so oddly American. I felt so boxed in and the box was becoming even more confining by the minute– I needed to escape. And then my legs were whirling underneath me and we were underground  walking to that platform that had such a great promise of adventure gone sour.And I held onto the pole as the train, brimming with people ,took off again, clanging, banging, screeching to a halt at various stops–people spilling in and out. I held on away we swayed. As it swayed. And then we went to our hotel and showered and washed away NYC, down the drain. Drained ourselves we slept dreaming hazy dreams of the city that never sleeps.

 

Thanks for reading let me know your thoughts in the comments.

-Wishing you the brightest of days, Eva

” Me and the pen, we are one.If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow. “