Lost in Translation

 

Spoken words provides a tone
Which written words may lack.
But it is in the written words
Where essence lives in black
And only those with a guiding light
Are invited on to the stage
“The honesty in each word I write
The life beyond the page…”
And those who may not see the stage
Are confused by this creation
Or it may be the words I wrote
Were just lost in translation

Flawed

IMG_7968

Flawed, so beautifully flawed.

But, your essence, my dear

Is perfection.

Even when rain clouds darken your gaze

And the sunlight shines brightness on your face.

Flawed, so beautifully flawed.

But, your essence, my dear

Is perfection.

Romanticism

surreal-paintings03s

“Satire is people as they are; romanticism, people as they would like to be; realism, people as they seem with their insides left out.” Dawn Powell

“…Romanticism is people as they would like to be….” to add, romanticism is people as others would like them to be, events as people would like them to be, things as people would like them to be.

In the end, the people, event, and thing never are what it is wished to be. So why do we romanticize all of them as such? Maybe we should blame our creativity? Our endless imagination which can dive into whichever abyss it desires to get lost in…usually triggered by what the heart wants to feel.

Maybe we should blame music and movies, which give the impression to be written just for us. From music lyrics that invade our mental state and flirt with our feelings, to film’s  happy or heartbreak endings, fit to validate our mood.

Besides people and things, we also romanticize our past. To bring realism to light, hindsight is 20/20 with a slight case of amnesia. Enter romanticism and we romanticize our past based on how we feel about our present. Lack of contentment can send a person lurking in the past, romanticizing the loneliest days as one of their best; romanticizing a love that evaporated to the love that got away; romanticizing sleepless exhausting nights with a crying baby as sleepless nights of bonding with the new love of their life.

It is a cruel game, this game of romanticism. Even more cruel is if we give into it and assume romanticism as satire (or as people, events, things as they are), only to realize that romanticism took advantage of our naïvety and pulled us in and spit us out with the disappointments of failed expectations.

But, there is beauty in the intoxication of romanticism. This beauty lives in the inspiration it gives us, the inspiration to create. That love, that person, that event, that past, we romanticize and we create beautiful music, beautiful paintings, beautiful poems…beautiful art. Romanticism LIVES in art…no matter the satire.

I have….

Painting by Jose Roosevelt

 I have been weak

I have been defeated

I have been confused

I have been mistreated

I have been loathed

I have been hated

I have been envied

I have been slated

I have been judged

I have been betrayed

I have been made a fool

I have been afraid

Despite of it all….

I have not kneeled down

To worship this crown.

Because you see, it’s all in the view,

In how we define what we’ve been through.

And one’s perception only tells

Of the internal anguish in which one dwells.

So it’s best to release of all this displeasure

“Because you are the sky, the rest… it’s just the weather.”

Facades

Jose Roosevelt's Architectural Awakening
Jose Roosevelt’s Architectural Awakening

Eyes to the world, how strange we are

Judging and comparing each other’s scars.

With smiling faces we say hello

Our honest thoughts, nobody knows.

Facades stay perfect, false expressions

Ensure we make the “right” impression

We fail to realize, we can’t control

How someone else defines a soul.

So what to do, but kindly observe

The strange relationships that we serve.

But don’t fall prey to fake intentions,

Allow intuition to guide pretensions

And if they see, you see them too

Set the example, be true to you.

Because the masks will fall away

Exposing fragile molded clay.

Eyes to the world, now we shall see

How perfect to be bare can be

To be ourselves is not so strange

To be a soul, to be the change.