mama // dear mother, here's my letter
of thanks for everything you've
ever done for me, for brother.
enveloping me close to your
warm chest when the monsters
under my bed scared me;
patting and rubbing my back
when i said i couldn't do it;
for standing b me as a pillar of
support, someone who wouldn't
budge even if an earthquake shook
the earth's stance. tonight, i can't
seem to keep my eyes shut -
i can't seem to fall asleep.
not because of the monsters that
hide under my bed, but because
of the monsters i hold within me.
tonight, will you save me? with every
crest and fall of your chest beneath
my head, i plead for you to do so.
this pillow - these blankets i hug
in your replacement haunt me every
night. i miss your homely, warm
presence, something that i can
never ever get from something else.
makeshift things don't work, clearly.
will you come back to me, just for tonight?
mother - will you please save me from
the darkness that i hold within myself?
i hope you step down from the
clouds, my angel, and caress my cheek
with your warm thumb that's a
little rough from all the tough work
you did all day long. everything
that was all once so familiar
just seems so far away now, i almost
think i will forget it all.
mother - will you please save me from
all the darkness that i hold within myself?
// © Lalitha Alwan 2018 #mybloodistheink
Sometime I wrote a long time ago, because I couldn't finding today's piece in time :)
1. In Platonic philosophy, a name for the Maker or Creator of the world. In certain later systems, like Gnosticism, it is conceived as a being subordinate to the Supreme Being, and sometimes the author of evil.
2. (Ancient Greek History) The title of a magistrate in certain ancient Greek states, and in the Achæan League (a federation of Greek city-states in the north and central parts of the Peloponnese in the 3rd and 2nd centuries BCE).
“For Frost the demiurge and demon seem to be one and to represent a powerful creative force or personality.” - Deirdre J. Fagan, Critical Companion to Robert Frost: A Literary Reference to His Life and Work
“In ancient Greece [demiurge] had originally been the ordinary word for ‘craftsman,’ or ‘artisan’ (broadly interpreted to include not only manual workers but also heralds, soothsayers, and physicians), and which in the 5th century BCE had come to designate certain magistrates or elected officials.
Plato used the term in the dialogue ‘Timaeus,’ an exposition of cosmology in which the Demiurge is the agent who takes the preexisting materials of chaos, arranges them according to the models of eternal forms, and produces all the physical things of the world, including human bodies.” - Britannica Library
Later, Gnostics adopted the term to refer to “Yahweh,” the evil angel, subordinate to the supreme God of goodness, who was responsible for the creation of the world of matter.
Etymology: Greek “δημιουργός” translates literally to public or skilled worker. “δήμιος” means “of the people, public” and “-εργος” means “-working, worker.”
Source: Oxford English Dictionary, ancient.eu, Britannica Library
What words do you want to learn more about? Let me know in the comments below!
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“Pardon, but I am an old school.”
"Okayyy, so instead of calling, I will be writing letters when you will visit home. <3”
Back key pressed. Conversation pinned. Delete. “Are you sure you want to delete this conversation?” popped on my cell phone.
I hit the ‘cancel’ button for the umpteenth time and kept staring at the walls.
The right corner of my room seems home to the spiders and the seagull grey colored walls don’t look elegant anymore cause of the ugly graffiti I have made on them, with your name.
I wonder when was the last time my home got renovated and blush thinking about how we planned to get a house on the uppermost floor of a lofty building so that we can make love on our balcony, shamelessly.
There now lays dozens of unwashed coffee cups in my room, scattered all over the place.
Yes, I still find it insipid but somehow it goes perfectly with my bland life and that soothes me in an eerie way.
It even rained today and I recklessly looked out for your white shirt. It now fits me perfectly due to weight loss but I don't feel happy about it. For it still smells like peaches. It still smells of you.
You know, of all the things that have changed, I miss us the most.
I miss you, for every perverse reply you used to text me whenever I said I was heading off for a bath.
I miss you, for every night which used to end up with your sleepy face when I kept on blabbering about how was my day.
I miss you, for every time you got thrown out of the library because you went too loud while I was on the phone.
I miss you, for the all the places I visited without spending a penny because of the way you described them so beautifully, without breaking the flow.
I miss you for everything I desperately wanted to get rid off but failing incessantly to do so.
And now when you have twisted every path and shut every door to reach you, to touch you,
I want to ask, would it be okay if I write to you, just like we planned to do.
It wouldn’t be awkward or would it be?
It wouldn’t be wrong. Right?
For there might be people out there who can get past every cherishing memory, but I don't even have a clue as how to get over you.
Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. 👇 #bobmarley