UNTOWARD


Life’s untoward meaning.

Fleeting or fulfilling?

A pilgrimage to the peak.

Of Pinnacles, Mountains and Summit,
Climbing and falling, falling and rising.

We fall, We rise, We sink.

We swim through the depths of uncertainty.

Feel every heartbreak, feel every breakthrough,

The fusion of both.

These words beg for completion,
From an author stuck in limbo.
Of emotions, directions and misdirection.

Words will be found to make the work a whole, worlds may crash and leave these words as it were,
In peace or pieces.

                             -Chyomarr
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CONFLICT

Truth be told, I’d say I’m more than halfway sold
with notions that my travails won’t benefit me when I’m old
Only if I keep at this, modifying gravity’s laws
Find bliss in Equations and sums
Working unending till my day is done.
Must paint as a hobby or just for fun!
Then I recall younger years painting floors
of tenement lobbies, make canvas of hallways and walls.
Art was expression of living life in actuality
But now same life manifests in form of society
Breathing down the back of my neck
A reality looms, threats to put my art in a tomb
yet complements my thirst for a legacy that endures countless moonsimages (23)

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Drunk in nature

One with the calm, one with nature.   Find me where the wild things are,             the creator’s being       intoxcicated   with the beauty.          Of a perfect picture of seven days of creation.                                                                                                           images-16~Chyomarr

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SANDCASTLES

images-11              We built castles in the sand, till we could build dreams.

We built a dream and a love 💕

Now we recline on rocking chairs,watching our kids in the sand.
just as it were, a snippet of how a sandcastle built seventy-seven years of me&you ❤

~Chyomarr

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Books and Emotions

When you read a book, you discover the beauty that your imagination is ❤❤ always. Every character literally has a face and tone of voice and mannerism in my head!

Aluchie's world

For me, reading a book transports me to a different world and i am right there with the characters( Deep right?), i tend to be overly emotional when i’m reading  …i feel the emotions that  the charcters are protrayed to feel (in my feelings yh?) and it is quite weird that i am not this  invested when i’m watching a movie(anyone else like this?).

inside-out-voices-insideout-1024x341 i go through all this emotions before i finish a book

I guess it has to do with visualizing the scenes  in my head and letting my imagination run wild…..i think this is the reason why i always prefer books to the movies made from the books (they hardly reach my expectations).

reading This is so me!!!!

when a book doesnt end the way i want it to (lol), i create my own ending so i can have closure ( its very important) .. If there is…

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HEALING

You did not choose to get hurt

You did not choose to feel pain.

But you see these scars imprinted on me are a reminder that you chose to heal and not watch me bleed.

With love,your Heart.

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~Chyomarr

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Moments

a295f99795db001baff5f05a8d35a873Give me a minute, a second, an hour.
Wish I could relive these moments..

The minutes slip,
the memories fade..

Let time stand still.
The air I breathe, suddenly not enough to push through.

Moments when we laugh,
Moments so pure and golden.

Then the nefarious footsteps of life echo..

And you remember, you remember you can’t have these moments for life.

~Chyomarr

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STAR STRUCK

884610-342x500-desktopnexus-com*Star struck*

He was a man of means
His love didn’t care for the means.

She was the moon he loved,
The very maiden he mooned for.

She was the radiance of the sun,
The very Venus of his heart.

Two peas in a pod he thought.
She was his trophy,
he was her honey.
She was his gold,
he was her pot of gold.

The clock struck twelve,
and little miss Venus fell.

She was the star that struck his heart..and bled him to his death.

~Chyomarr

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PARADOX

photogrid_1485977424274

*PARADOX*
When living doesn’t become living,
When you die before death claims you.
You ingest the substance on a constant for that good life with no substance.
You make a living you can’t live.

I guess its all just a paradox,
When your key of treasures serves nothing but to open up Pandora’s box.
Then you realize like solitaire you played yourself by yourself.

You give the peace and leave yourself in pieces.
You heal the wounds and leave yourself wounded.

I guess its all just a paradox.

But I do not speak your words unspoken, no, I speak the words you fear to be spoken.
But what do I know? For what I know is that I know nothing.
~Chyomarr

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