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Chosen Bliss


Val enjoys writing prose in rhymes by always leaving a message of a life truism in each piece.


At moments like this, sometimes my ego, or whatever may be left of it, indulges in a fancy that Jesus must have felt like this when he decided to turn water into wine.

Now, I don't know how many got that metaphor correctly, but to me it means that he turned some ordinary moment into a blissful one. Sorry, you boozers, your savior didn't have you in mind.

So, as if just from the corner of my eye I pick some images of a disharmonious world out there -- even write about what I see -- but I keep my focus on whatsoever my soul is turning into my reasons for happiness.

Does any of that really "deserve" to be called that? Are you kidding? Nothing "deserves" these or those emotions; we are either programmed to react with some, or we choose them consciously, like I do.

Simply aware that I have the ultimate choice to either annoying myself with appearances, or to pamper myself with them. Yes, you got it -- I am "deceiving" myself that life is a divine event -- just like the most of the rest of humanity are "deceiving" themselves that life sucks.

By itself, nothing has a suchness until we give it one, and like I already revealed it few times, these are exactly the words that I wrote for myself in a little essay at my age of 16, at one of my many "eureka" moments.

So I spent some time practicing this rosy disposition -- just like some other folks practiced their feeling crappy, making us both very proficient at what we do the best.

But O.K., now, enough of this typical prose; let me switch to my prose in rhymes. If not by any other indicators, you might have noticed how I am having fun doing it, as I am making these neat right margins of my stanzas.

Maybe there is really nothing particularly enjoyable about it, but, like I said, I would probably have fun seeing a mouse jump on my desk now.

"Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words" and May All Spell Out Blissfulness.

"Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words" and May All Spell Out Blissfulness.

The pursuit of happiness is a most ridiculous phrase. If you pursue happiness you'll never find it.

-- C. P. Snow

Sweet Truth

When our eyes finally become wide awaken

we often can't tell what busted long sleep

all the wrong words seem already taken

to describe a truth shocking and deep.

From the first truth that eyes are seeing

eager to shut themselves back to oblivious

with the first instinct being the one of fleeing

away from this world so unfriendly and devious.

But then comes voice gentle and wise

from some realm that's so hard to define

giving a free lesson to those confused eyes

with everything afterwards falling in the line.

"Human truth consists of many different layers

and we are not deceived by focusing on best

getting in life game only with worthy players

ignoring unpleasant truth about all the rest."

And so from that fine and blessed day on

these eyes look at sunny side of the street

with all the shadows invisible and long gone

exposing only a reality that's truthful and sweet.

Happiness is a way of travel, not a destination.

-- Roy. M. Goodman

Dreams Die First, Then We Die -- Val Karas

Dreams Die First, Then We Die -- Val Karas

A Part-Time Dreamer and a Selective Realist

I could write about a poignant part of my past

the one that could make a tough dude cry

or about this life that's "rushing too fast"

or about alike stuff -- but why don't I?

For it was no more real that those happy times

when from a top of the world I looked on all below

so why on a crappy stuff would I waste these rhymes

when my old romantic guitar insists upon happy-n-slow.

It is all equally real and now all equally gone

tear-jerking scenes and my cigarettes-n-beer

now all that dark "reality" just makes me yawn

while memories of crazy times are still so near.

A part-time dreamer, and a selective realist am I

choosing my mental food with a gourmet taste

not exactly believing in some pie in the sky

but seeing all the fuss as a total waste.

It's such unutterable joy to just breathe and be

to cultivate our mind trying to make it refined

to purr like an old cat curled and in its glee

with no need to further relax and unwind.

Life is good even if its down to water and bread

and when we cry for better it stops being good

so, long before we all happen to end up dead

why not cultivate more of this dreamy mood.

© 2020 Val Karas


Anupam Mitu from MUMBAI on December 19, 2020:


BRENDA ARLEDGE from Washington Court House on December 19, 2020:


I love this part...

Yes, you got it -- I am "deceiving" myself that life is a divine event -- just like the most of the rest of humanity are "deceiving" themselves that life sucks.

I think it is so much better to deceive oneself that life is divine.

Like your poetry says...take the good parts.

Take care.

Val Karas (author) from Canada on December 19, 2020:

Umesh -- Thank you, I am glad you liked it.

Umesh Chandra Bhatt from Kharghar, Navi Mumbai, India on December 19, 2020:

Nice composition.

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