06Nov 2019 by aryask@gmail.com

An unconditional surrender

mindfulness, poetry, self-awareness
Caught in a riptide, hallow pressures, energy currents drift before my eyes, the story plays on, light hanging down, she stretches her shoulders, her pointy shoes swivel on the floor. Friends are near, experience builds trust. It's absurdly charming, my rhythm is life. My mind is not real life. The nature of the mind is to think about life. Reality responds to what you think, but it is not responsible for self-deceptions. Humans can be experts at self-deception,With so much emotion inside this flesh. Focus around the eyes and neck. Solar flares blend and dissolve what’s left.
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12Apr 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

when the snowflake melts

poetry
They say it’s how we play the cards that we’re dealt, People search for answers when a snowflake melts, What was once a source of glory may later feel stuck, ‘til the sun swallows the old story and you stop giving a fuck, The fire burns in the belly and there is no cure, A great glory comes When you’re perfectly insecure.
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12Apr 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

Blue shine

poetry
He walks miles, Many many miles, He smiles, For no reason, He dreams Many dreams, For a while til he stops breathing He aches and crawls At the edge of this flesh Etched on a blue shine The wilderness outstretched He falls in a hole Digs himself through Then hits water And finds himself with you He flies high Cuz the sky is safe Blinded by sunshine With a burning faith
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10Apr 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

A peaceful sail

poetry, prose, storytelling
Winds were heavy, and the boat was rocking back and forth, there alone in the middle of the sea. The ocean had swallowed all his clothes the night before. Sea monsters came and went and there he remained naked and amused, the boat was all he owned, and the sail was all he knew. Though aimless at times, from a bird’s eye view he was just another traveler. He relished in the depth of things and that’s all that mattered to him. In a world where nothing is permanent, he cherishes the moment with a savory detachment.
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27Mar 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

How poetry adds perspective

poetry, self-awareness
“Poetry is a commitment to the soul.” – Gaston Bachelard I was 14 when I started writing poems. For some reason, secretly, I wanted to find that quality about myself. It was a way to cope with low self-esteem, so it became an outlet for daydreams. I struggled with speech impediment and depression so the written word was a place to spread my mind. Writing and drawing were therapeutic because it helped unveil my own voice. I'm still unlayering the folds, but every once in a while I know that I've found something through my audience. Eventually, I realized poetry is a way of being in the world, noticing a self-sufficient beauty that lives beyond "me." Poetry is an exploration of where "I" begins and ends. Poetry can be narrow as a…
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