Safety’s Murder. {poetry}
“Run from what’s comfortable
Forget safety,
Live where you fear to live
Destroy your reputation,
Be notorious.
I have tried prudent planning long enough
From now I’ll be mad.” ~ Rumi
I feel very nervous tonight,
and yes, I reject safety.
Yes, she is the one I blame,
do you see her hiding behind
her haughty looks?
From now on,
I will avoid her soft, fickle touch.
My ears do not want to hear
her hypnotic lullabies,
False melodies like those of snakes.
Throwing her over bridges
like a withered flower,
she who imprisons us
with her stranglehold,
dries up our proud destinies,
tears our most precious buds
even before spring,
I’m mad at her today.
Maybe I will kill her one night,
when she will not have taken
her clever precautions,
when she will end up alone
in a dark neighborhood
she deems treacherous,
I will throw her
against her wall, heavy,
against her battlement
of peacefulness,
against her cotton clouded cage.
Safety, I blame you.
Calling back our daring ventures
with your ropes,
Teaching our hearts
what you name reason,
snaring us in your carpeted paths,
whispering those cold rules
you dress in wisdom.
Dying to speak to you,
I’m boiling, burning,
Crime is pending.
Run, safety, flee,
my demons against you rise,
flames of the fires you stopped
from growing.
Safety, do you see, you lied, and love illustrates your feeble comedy!
Those burning loves,
which carry us in our cities
like hoping does,
cheerful melodies of our minds,
could we live them with you, safety?
Would it be possible to really love
without losing our words,
risking souls’ bearings,
contemplating our hearts’ defeat?
Without a lover
coming to torment our nights
even in our dreams,
as a sleepless nights’ builder,
bringing with it the eventuality
of a shadow over numb days?
Would you tell me that love
does not plague souls
through our aimless paths and lucks,
that hearts do not receive love
as a gift from unknown divinities?
Would you insult me
by pretending
we do not live those love nights,
those where we shiver
under strange hands,
without taking the audacious risk
of surrendering ourselves
to the other?
Safety,
it seems that
upon contact with you,
no fairy’s love
would know how to find us.
It is with all of destiny’s strength
that you deprive us with such fervor,
not only pouring your icy rain on our loves.
Safety, know that warriors
win their battles with their swords.
To battle!
It is by stealing our places
through boldness and intemperance,
by hauling our words beyond valleys,
by climbing high steps
like soldiers galloping,
that we reach our treasures.
No, there is no
great journey of the soul
without sinuous paths,
no summit without
a mountain to climb,
no proud destiny
without dark doubts,
black fears, those lonely soul’s
transitions.
Turning up our noses
to your honeyed words,
broken sharply, it is with blood
that we reached our firmaments.
Strategists of small battles
and great wars,
cheeky, insolent,
obstinate and proud,
makers of sea breezes
and majestic gusts,
trials, attempts,
mistakes, then success,
our life often handed
on a plate as a guarantee
to destiny.
Safety, we learnt by poisoning you,
slowly and in secret,
by drowning your laws
under the seas,
to vanquish people,
mountains and demons.
You see, safety,
you are dealing here
with insolents.
Like golden beasts
held in a cage,
finally made free,
our willowy bravery
is coming to get you!
It is now said,
I am doing a complete turnaround.
Yes, I like barreling down
craggy powder snow like a draft,
diving with my life
and soul in the ocean’s
unrelenting waves,
I blush hoping
for those loves
at first sight which make us
lose our minds,
I quiver to the idea
of exploring my soul
at the other end of the world,
feeling my skin burning
under the red sun of the tropics,
I like defying your laws
to find my rhymes,
I like hopping under
August’s stormy sights,
breathing the windy touch
of Irish cliffs.
I live life like an adventurer
in an expedition,
inebriated with those passions
which make you shiver,
you, fearful frail bird,
of those turmoils
which make you fade
and look away.
If you were here tonight, I would murder you,
before you try and kill me.
*****
Sophie Gregoire is a thinker. You may often find her with a new idea or a new concept to explain, holding a notebook and pencil. Also found reading and writing, she is more than anything an independent soul. She enjoys traveling and getting lost in new places, namely in Asia. She says it helps understanding our worlds, its people and the humankind. She loves writing to transform her endless thoughts into some kind of reality, and to keep the little piece of sanity she still has. She savors coffee, encounters, Yoga and meditation, and cats… while her own cat is her greatest muse! You could contact Sophie via Facebook.