Poetry

Jimmy Tong

By

Carmel Gaeta

Complete

Many give their love just like a placebo

Living their days ruled by their ego

They sometimes find it hard to express

With many denying they need to confess

The emotion we conjure is enormous

Tho we don’t always enjoy the performance

As so many times we seem to complicate

And others opinions we look to nominate

We search for love with a high standard

Tho there are many taking what’s handed

The lonely make mistakes always on repeat

Believing another will make them complete

So we should know from our birth

We all have a partner walking on Earth

Let us believe our time will come

Because finding our love will be done

Time

The transcendence of time euthanises its capture as it cascades its essence amongst unassuming sculptures of beings painted into the landscapes of existence.

It’s alluding whispers filter it’s resonance thru opaque testimonials invited through the disguise of origins.

It’s directive pursues its quarters thru ambivalence of times appointment as it looks to become whole once again.

Curled pages of our journals drip with its timed meetings of relativity, as they ordain the stretch of time before them crosshatching our vigorous schedules.

Brawling with this persistence of time whilst each paint stroke licks the canvas of its masterpiece of complexity.

The colours intermingle as they blend playing hide and seek with the push and pull of duality’s brush strokes.

They develop possessive pictures moving with frivolous determination as they illuminate the backdrop that interludes with each glance of possession.

Motivated by its beat of existence, it thumps on me charging me up with pursuit of this illusive reflection, linear persistence conforms to.

Earnestly, I try to dissect its temperament to slow down its symphony pushed into the whirlwind of its orchestra.

Maestros playing catch with the timing of notes that desire their reverberation to be flung towards the finale.

I try my best at sight reading its echoes, granting to change phase of melodies in surround sound.

The bass of the speakers my ear drums consume as it steps on my heels like a tango, as I skip in and out of its glory.

Recordings play their essence as they invite me into their caves of muted tempo slowed down for its audience hushed.

But I seek to venture outside, so I again prepare my practise for the intimidation its brush paints with, in waiting.

Thoughts cloned as shades consume my colour as their entertainment keeps me intrigued for yet another day.

Majestically the colours marry one another in form filling another page of my manuscript.

Oh how I hope I enjoy the creation of my masterpiece that awaits me at the end of the line. There I no longer push in.

I pray I create a purposeful masterpiece that will serenade me as the tempo unwinds even tho it’s filled with conjecture.

How long to rejoice in its marvel of knowing that kept me company as I bounced from one note to another.

I will not beckon their return when the decrescendo speaks its hum of finality.

I will see it was me who was the maestro that held count..1, 2, 3 with the end in wait playing out its tune. And it’s me it consumed.

Carmel Gaeta

I am a 39 year mother of a 14 year old girl and 13 year old boy who are my life. However I lost custody of them nine years ago due to a mix of mental illness, drug addiction and domestic violence as they all go hand in hand. I started healing from the pain four years ago after two breakdowns thru positivity and changing my thoughts thru my writing which became like well spells for me. It’s now become my aim that I can uplift others the way I feel that when I read them as they remind me what to do. I would therefore like to publish a book one day too but not until I’m ready. I believe self love is important but helping one another is also and I hope to do that with my writing. I hope you have enjoyed it and look forward to more.