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Memories

Memories

 

Memories, why do they torment me so?

Time gone past, people, places all gone.

When time was present, didn’t heed me so,

Now time gone past, why do I need you so?

 

Reliving it in my mind,

I try to change the present time.

Only messing up the moment at hand,

Analyzing, evaluating things gone past,

Moments, truth and all,

Rectifying hurt, ego and all.

 

Stripping down my ego, I see,

Ignorance is not such an elated plea.

Affections and love, not what I thought them to be.

But something astoundingly splendid.

The great joy of sharing one’s wealth,

That extends by giving.

 

The great loss to one’s heart,

Is when it’s shielded, from life and love around.

Revere the things as they are,

For who knows what time brings tomorrow,

May you think about today as, wistful, slippery past.

Live each moment as whole, to have treasures of memories to behold.

 

 

 

Doler Shah

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Dealing with Addiction

Dealing with Addiction

This is absolutely a most profound observation and the ability to verbalize ones feeling for a creation of art , ones wallowing in bliss by the effect it has on oneself, i truly agree and understand the emotions, almost envy your experience and want to partake in it.

The Art Blog by WOVENSOULS.COM

How does one do it? How does one wean oneself off?

How to stop obsessing? How to break free of the hypnotic spell?

How to stop wallowing in the semi-conscious trance ?

It is after-all such a pleasant fairy-tale like experience! So why bother to quit?

One reason is that there is a loss of control… I am no longer able to direct my mind!

The other is that – maybe other things in real life need attention?

Still!

What a beautiful occupation it is – this addition to a work of art!

It is easy to lose oneself completely in simply beholding it and enjoying its view!

After all it has traveled across history and geography and is now honoring me by its presence in my life.

Am helpless. And am enjoying it. Am submitting to it.

Few things have brought me so much satisfaction and fulfillment as this…

View original post 40 more words

Fall landscape

When I painted this, I was very pleased with the outcome, it’s a very peaceful painting, let me know your thoughts and feelings 🙂

fall painting copyright

From another blogger

Read about me and a bit of my life story in a post by a fellow Blogger.

The blog is of a place called the Old Post Office Pavilion where I’ve had a restaurant for the past 30 years. A building that unfortunately has just been leased to Donald Trump to turn it into a 5 star hotel :/. Not so happy about that. Anyways if you are in the DC area before January 2014 definitely come to the Old Post Office Pavilion and check out this amazing US landmark. A truly beautiful building that I am sad to say good bye to.

Love is?

Here is the second half of my love poems:

LOVE IS

I think, I found it in a stranger’s eyes,

That passed me by.

I think I saw it in my father’s face,

When he looked at me.

I know I felt it in a piece of music , I heard.

I felt the muse of strings tugging at my throat.

I know I saw it in an artist’s work.

A quiver ran down my spine.

An ecstasy filled the air,

With my heart beating wild.

For a moment I felt rich and alive,

My eyes glistening with emotions,

I felt it , tasted it, wanting to behold it,

I groped at it.

I think of this as elusive, evasive, abstractive LOVE.

Doler Shah

Love?

I wrote this poem thinking about what makes us do the things we do, and what is the wealth of love? I wrote it in two sections, as a poem questioning and a poem answering those questions. I hope you like it.

WHAT IS LOVE ?

Love, what is love?

Is it a glance into someone’s soul?

Is it a look of admiration,

A look of understanding,

A look of compassion?

To a soul, in a thousand seas of souls,

Or is it a quiver of one’s touch?

A fast beating of one’s heart,

The electricity of it all,

I wonder

Is it a longing look on one’s path?

A mother’s tender touch!

Loo! a mother’s embrace.

Blanketing her child,

Away from hurt.

Or is it hoping,

With all that abstract hope?

Of something anew,

Something afresh,

Might occur,

Might change it all,

In the bleakness of ones life.