Photo from Kunji Parekh (unsplash)
Hey, I can manage! I tried keeping up walking with him but the bigger steps I made the faster he went! I tumbled and fell I even scratched my knees. He didn’t stop or even blink! So I picked myself up patted my pants from the dust held my head high and walked. Okay so you don’t care I get it. Two can play a game! Am doing it my way. You used to make me wait for you to turn hearts around to grow a conscience in some and to make things better. You were able to take things from me because I let you but not anymore. I am not your toy, let’s get that straight! I will take from you what I need. I too won’t blink or look back. Thank you for showing me that. Today we walk side by side on a road enough for more than two! Our shoulders almost touch. He gave me a smirk I tapped him on his back and said, hey Time guess what? I don’t care anymore about keeping up with you. I can manage. Author's Notes: Author’s Notes: This piece is an imaginary scenario between the author and time... who keeps on running and the author keeps on chasing him...but she reaches a point when she realizes it's pointless and decides to do things her way her pace...because the world doesn't stop for sadness or happiness... because hearts don't change over time... because things don't get better in time... because it is what is.... if it's meant to be it'll be. Trouble Me Not Trouble me not with your worries for your shallowness speaks to my darkness a credence that shrieks: evil is faithless. Trouble me not with your fears for a bloody moon of leers lights my night like candlesticks. Trouble me not with your hurts for I couldn’t care less for what happens next, to you or what part of you breaks. Trouble me not with your beliefs for you are a body of lies that belongs to hell with all souls this reckless. Trouble me not with your quarrels for your bullshit trembles under values so shallow entangling you in misfortunes. Trouble me not for you shall feed hell’s appetite for troubled dark souls like yours wait for it, hell’s gonna wring your neck with woes. Trouble me not for as your screams leave your lungs reaching the heavens I shall relish blowing away your ashes. Author's Notes: Inspired by: " From the Mouths of Trouble" by fellow poet RolinSton. Gripe's Pentacle Life is a circle that begins with creation but ends when destruction becomes a mission. Life’s circle is centered in attention with irony and chance for a diameter. Every life has a purposeful circumference enclosing motives and goals with reason and balance. But every life covers an area of interests that can be tangent or parallel to others. Destruction breaks life’s circle with confusion. It strikes down one’s balance by hitting one’s center with attention. Once balance is gone destruction leaks motives and goals with aggression. Then the chain of hurt and blame brings isolation sliding in personal gain’s hook to hang gripe’s pentacle. Gripe is a trivial complaint that disrupts reflection. It has greed on one corner to burn compassion, radicalism on the right corner to end discussion, ignorance on the left corner to begin occlusion, pride on its south east corner to prevent redemption and envy on its south west corner to deny gratification. Wearing destruction’s pentacle of gripe is a decision made by many thinking their life begins with others’ destruction. Life is a circle deformed by destruction’s gripe pentacle showing blame's face with its bloody mouth and envious eyes. Author's Notes: Although gripe was defined in this poem but it is also worth noting that in this poem it is an acronym of destruction's pentacle: Greed, Radicalism, Ignorance, Pride, and Envy. Mind Your Mind Mind your mind and you shall find happiness, a kinder form of life that blows good fortunes like a wind born out of clarity during moments of strife. Lose your mind and you shall find bitterness, a harder form of life that leaves you lost and blind amidst chaos from rage’s hive Train your mind and you shall find excellence, a better way to lead a life of bounties known to humankind in stories where dreams dive! Mind your mind even when opined and you shall never go blind nor know what it is like to hide a heart that’s been declined or a thought that’s been confined. Mind your mind as though a rind that protects you from a jack-knife. A mind that is refined is all that you need in life. Clouds and Castles Welfare is a soul’s castle built up in dreams’ clouds only to be washed away by life’s crashing waves. Dreams are opaque clouds combed by reality’s fingers only to clash with thunders that rain contradictions. As the hail piles forming walls one thinks he is hale behind doors. Then truth’s sun shines tearing our walls with woes. Judgments make clouds condense pouring rains of regrets in chains that drag us with life’s waves. Chances are the ebb and tides that build or destroy our castles. Time destroys us with our castles tearing us down like our walls. We tumble down with failures humble down with lessons mellow down with losses and calm down with haplessness. We build walls of contradictions to erect our castles of welfare. We cement them with arbitrary acts and tile them with sweet nothings. Because we commercialized ourselves; we don’t mind the wear and tear. So we tear down and rebuild today for tomorrow like a yesterday. We forgot that those who live behind walls tend to miss sunshines and meadows. They keep building defenses for wars that never come until they die without living. We pride ourselves with castles in the air or seas but forget that we are prisoners of our devise dancing to our demise. Souls were never made to live in walls. Our bodies are enough walls. Mama Told Me Mama told me don’t tell all cause many are waiting for me to fall just so they can gloat. Turns out she was right after all. But I told them how I stood tall and they were there for me at least that’s what I thought until time sorted them all, money made its call. Mama told me don’t tell all cause no one would understand me when I have nothing to give at all and that’s how I lost them all. I had to see them watch me fall and hear them talk about me calling me unreliable and that hurt, because I never expected this at all. Mama told me don’t tell all but I did and it’s on me. I regret telling but I can’t change things so I accept it all. Nobody visits and I don’t call. I am all alone with what’s left of me Who would’ve thought- money keeps family around after all! Mama told me don’t tell all cause nobody cares for me or how much I fought because honesty doesn’t matter at all. Depression and disappointment are all I have to keep me company. Desertion and neglect clog my throat with hurt from being made to feel so small. Mama told don’t tell all because she knew they could hurt me faking love that left me distraught with a hurt so deep like a bottomless hole. Author's Notes: The narrative in this poem is from my life and it was inspired by the following quote: "Sometimes the people closest to you betray you, and your home isn't a place you can be happy in anymore. It's hard but it's true". P.C. Cast Blurred Clarity If I told you, you need to sail the sea to find thee and be able to see; Would you say yes or disagree? If I told you tragedy begets the clarity to see what’s meant to be would you call me crazy? If I showed you hurt’s family to protect you and me would you still see me? Whoever said live with honesty to find peace and harmony forgot to highlight its tragedy. All you get to say is if only they’d spare me the misery and let me face reality; A reality starving for clarity fed by choices made sincerely starring those once trustworthy. See trust chaps skies with maybe and drenches life’s seas with irony to dawn clarity that leaves both blurry. You may think you sail aptly but choices are tipsy boats swiftly sailing amidst blurred clarity. A clarity blurred by the company you keep casting you in a tragicomedy written by understanding’s bigotry! To let the sea, meet the sky to drop those flying high to drown next to those passing by A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Pasithea Chan Bio: Pasithea is an impressionist poet who dabbles in art and poetry. She enjoys writing about life and her experiences from different perspectives. She believes in art in poetry as in exploring art to emphasize its role in juicing creativity out of a quill. She enjoys writing poetry in symbolism laced with philosophy and psychology. Combined with varied styles and topics, her motto will always be: poetry is a passionate expression kindled by an impression unlimited by public conviction. To catch more of her work follow her on Instagram @pasitheachan or twitter @pasitheachan and on Ello @ello.co/pasitheaanimalibera where you can find more of her historical fiction and mythological or cultural short stories. #stopthehate challenge poem by Pasithea Chan : Able & Sable Hearts in Color & Deed
Fevers of the Mind 
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