Val enjoys writing prose in rhymes by always leaving a message of a life truism in each piece.
I often wonder how true are the perceived images of us and others. Are we portraying everybody with our limited colors from our painter's palette? Are we using a fine brush, or ours is a broad one just suitable for stereotyping?
And, is it that only our social images are communicating -- not our true selves? And, as we talk about that "true" self", how can others really reach our true depths, if even we are not fully aware of so much of it?
As I am writing all this, those few of my analytically minded readers surely have formed an image of who I am, and "where I am coming from". But it's more than likely that they are terribly wrong, while just fragmenting their impressions and synthetizing those fragments into their own portray of who I might be.
Indeed, we could spend most of our lifetime with a person while only scratching the surface of who they are, since we are all so selective at revealing ourselves, and we do it automatically.
These and other similar questions pop up in this inquisitive, out of box mind of mine that's in the habit of searching beyond the obvious.
The next pieces of my prose in rhymes are depicting the above enigma of true identities.
I know that mirrors give us a false sense of confidence. The reflection that we see everyday has nothing to do with how others see us. The glass lies.
-- Rasmenia Massoud
How Visible Are We Really?
When they talk to us
are we only used for ears
for them to share and to fuss
to express their hopes and fears
And when they look in our direction
do they see who we know we are
or is it only their interpretation
missing our true self by far.
So many times while we are talking
words change meaning in their head
and that silly truth is almost mocking
for they're hearing their minds instead.
We may be mistaken for our reputation
or some gossips are painting our portrait
and not that we deserve a standing ovation
but what they may see in us isn't really great.
So we are walking this world visible in part
mostly invisible for whom we feel we are
but we should not take it to our heart
as long as we see in us a shiny star.
I love those who smile in trouble.
-- Leonardo da Vinci
Put a Smile on Jesus' Face
Would Jesus like being always portrayed
the way of his dying on the cross in pain
instead as a happy messiah who prayed
for a loving world, not with a hate insane.
Who insisted on wiping smile off his face
the one that Buddha's wearing with bliss
to instill guilt and debt into human race
making part of his teaching a big miss.
It is like parents reminding us at all time
how their love is filled with the sacrifice
how our imperfection means a crime
while making each hug wear a price.
What happened with warm Magdalena story
displaying to us his human side of heart
instead of his ending, brutal and gory
not inspiring for a fresh life start.
Don't we tend to imitate our teacher's look
now less inspired by words than with pain
and it's not to defy anything of holy book
but love and suffering won't mix in brain.
So, why not put a big smile on our teacher's face
maybe his words of love would touch us more
for walk on our spiritual path with new grace
with no sinner's guilt and debt like before.
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
-- Albert Camus
Unaware of Our True Strength
Humans survived horrors of wars
scarcities mocking balanced eating
stress untold, hope of unknown source
taking every earthly and heavenly beating.
Yet, in times of crises we seem to have no limit
sheer will to live somehow makes us prevail
soul's light strong that nothing can dim it
turbulent seas ending like a smooth sail.
Then we think back with all deserved pride
disbelief not offering anything to explain
where we found all that strength inside
and how we endured all that pain.
So time does what it always will
making that memory quickly fade
now leaving us at mercy of new drill
of petty issues and problems self-made.
Wallowing in some crazy self-pity trap
and joining the chorus of those that fuss
we don't know how to deal with all that crap
moaning over some little mishaps befalling us.
Well, seems like we are only brave and strong
when the big trouble somehow refuses to pass
otherwise it's a crying crowd where we belong
in absence of that supercharging kick in the ass.
© 2020 Val Karas