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Under the roses
-----------------------

Knock Knock says my yesterday
To get out persistently waiting
How did it unearth again?
Its company makes me grim

So many days and nights I spent
So many tearful cries
Why am I still in gloom?
Seeing heavily clouded skies

Could I escape this one more time?
Remains the painful prayer
Could I get back my hopefulness?
In Life that's so unfair

I feel the joy just drain away
I feel the pain sink in
Is there a soul to help this one?
Is finding help a sin?

So I write to you my friend
In measures quite frantic
Might that help you understand
How for me this is hectic

Like a poignant poem with rhyming words
I take things in my stride
Yet I remain a cemetery
With pains buried inside

Where do I go from here then?
I have a lot of doubt
How shared grief gets divided
I am waiting to find out

I have a thin-skinned heart
That I always have to shield
But how do I get closer to a friend
How, hope, do I build

Without the desire to see tomorrow
Hope is hard to find
Faith is hiding behind the corners
Love… never mind!

Friends make my life survive
A hug or a shoulder to lean on
How close can I get and be
Fear of losing everything is what I am running from

Securities I have only in my closest friends
Count them, yes I do
The number barely reaches 3
And I cannot afford to lose

The nightmare strikes like a loud midnight gong
And I begin to see
Nothing left to live for
If those 3 ever flee

The love I need do I receive
Is there anyone out there?
How green grass gives way to a shovel
Each time new graves appear

This morning when I woke up
My eyes were facing inside
Such darkness such terrible things
Selfishness too I hide

Lost between the two sides
Am I loved? Do I deserve it anyway?
I count again and this time
Not 1 of 3, seems anymore will stay

Capital is the punishment
For my emotions I decide
Press another Restart button
And then forever hide

And then the cycle continues
New friends will I make
But sure as hell I know right now
The destination of my fate

Hard it might be, but I will make
The soil on the grave grow roses
Just like you'll always or mostly see my face
With smiles till my book closes

The Power of Love

Love is the best antidepressant—but many of our ideas about it are wrong. The less love you have, the more depressed you are likely to feel.
By: Ellen McGrath

Love is as critical for your mind and body as oxygen. It's not negotiable. The more connected you are, the healthier you will be both physically and emotionally. The less connected you are, the more you are at risk.
It is also true that the less love you have, the more depression you are likely to experience in your life. Love is probably the best antidepressant there is because one of the most common sources of depression is feeling unloved. Most depressed people don't love themselves and they do not feel loved by others. They also are very self-focused, making them less attractive to others and depriving them of opportunities to learn the skills of love.
There is a mythology in our culture that love just happens. As a result, the depressed often sit around passively waiting for someone to love them. But love doesn't work that way. To get love and keep love you have to go out and be active and learn a variety of specific skills.
Most of us get our ideas of love from popular culture. We come to believe that love is something that sweeps us off our feet. But the pop-culture ideal of love consists of unrealistic images created for entertainment, which is one reason so many of us are set up to be depressed. It's part of our national vulnerability, like eating junk food, constantly stimulated by images of instant gratification. We think it is love when it's simply distraction and infatuation.
One consequence is that when we hit real love we become upset and disappointed because there are many things that do not fit the cultural ideal. Some of us get demanding and controlling, wanting someone else to do what we think our ideal of romance should be, without realizing our ideal is misplaced.
It is not only possible but necessary to change one's approach to love to ward off depression. Follow these action strategies to get more of what you want out of life—to love and be loved.
· Recognize the difference between limerance and love. Limerance is the psychological state of deep infatuation. It feels good but rarely lasts. Limerance is that first stage of mad attraction whereby all the hormones are flowing and things feel so right. Limerance lasts, on average, six months. It can progress to love. Love mostly starts out as limerance, but limerance doesn't always evolve into love.
· Know that love is a learned skill, not something that comes from hormones or emotion particularly. Erich Fromm called it "an act of will." If you don't learn the skills of love you virtually guarantee that you will be depressed, not only because you will not be connected enough but because you will have many failure experiences.
· Learn good communication skills. They are a means by which you develop trust and intensify connection. The more you can communicate the less depressed you will be because you will feel known and understood.
There are always core differences between two people, no matter how good or close you are, and if the relationship is going right those differences surface. The issue then is to identify the differences and negotiate them so that they don't distance you or kill the relationship.
You do that by understanding where the other person is coming from, who that person is, and by being able to represent yourself. When the differences are known you must be able to negotiate and compromise on them until you find a common ground that works for both.
· Focus on the other person. Rather than focus on what you are getting and how you are being treated, read your partner's need. What does this person really need for his/her own well-being? This is a very tough skill for people to learn in our narcissistic culture. Of course, you don't lose yourself in the process; you make sure you're also doing enough self-care.
· Help someone else. Depression keeps people so focused on themselves they don't get outside themselves enough to be able to learn to love. The more you can focus on others and learn to respond and meet their needs, the better you are going to do in love.
· Develop the ability to accommodate simultaneous reality. The loved one's reality is as important as your own, and you need to be as aware of it as of your own. What are they really saying, what are they really needing? Depressed people think the only reality is their own depressed reality.
· Actively dispute your internal messages of inadequacy. Sensitivity to rejection is a cardinal feature of depression. As a consequence of low self-esteem, every relationship blip is interpreted far too personally as evidence of inadequacy. Quick to feel rejected by a partner, you then believe it is the treatment you fundamentally deserve. But the rejection really originates in you, and the feelings of inadequacy are the depression speaking.
Recognize that the internal voice is strong but it's not real. Talk back to it. "I'm not really being rejected, this isn't really evidence of inadequacy. I made a mistake." Or "this isn't about me, this is something I just didn't know how to do and now I'll learn." When you reframe the situation to something more adequate, you can act again in an effective way and you can find and keep the love that you need.

appreciated by - http://uglymoth.blogspot.com

WALTZING MATILDA

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong,
Under the shade of a coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled,
"Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?"
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled,
"Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?"
Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong:
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee.
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker-bag,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me."
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker-bag,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me."

Up rode a squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred;
Down came the troopers, one, two, three:
"Who's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.
Who's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"

Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong;
"You'll never catch me alive!" said he;
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"

-from Oz

* swagman: an intinerant farmhand, carrying his "swag" (his blankets) rolled
into a cylinder
* billabong: a creek (normally with a pronounced "oxbow" bend)
* coolibah tree: a eucalypt (gum) tree )
* waited till his billy boiled: a billy is a tin can used to heat water over
a campfire to make tea
* jumbuck: sheep
* tucker-bag: bag or box used to store food
* squatter: farmer/grazier who simply found good land and took possession;
some became extremely rich
* trooper: policeman or soldier on horseback

THE FREEDOM TO BE MYSELF

I think I know what I want. Here are the things that would make me happy. I
shall not want other things.

I want a room of my own, where I can work. A room that is neither
particularly clean nor orderly.

But a room comfortable and intimate and familiar. An atmosphere full of
smoke and the smell of books and unaccountable odors. On the shelf overlying
the couch are books, a good variety of them, but not too many--only thosa I
can read or I have read with profit again. against the opinion of all the
book reviewers of the world. None that takes too long to read, none that has
a sustained argument and none that has too cold splendor of logic.

I want some decent gentlemen´s clothing that I have worn for some time and a
pair of old shoes. I want the freedom to wear as little as I care to.

I want a home where I can be myself. I want to hear my wife´s voice and the
children´s laughter uptairs when I am working downtairs, and downtairs when
I am working uptairs.

I want children who are children, who will go with me to play in the rain. I
want a patch of ground where my children can build brick houses and fee
chikens and water flowers. I want to hear a cock crying cock-a-doodle-do in
the morning. I want tall, old trees in the neighborhood.

I want some good friends, friends who are as familiar as life itself,
friends to whom I need not to be polite, and who will tell me all their
troubles, matrimonial or otherwise, who can quote Aristophanes and crack
some dirty jokes, firends who are spiritually rich and who can talk dirt and
philosophy with the same candor, friends who have definite hobbies and
opinions about persons and things, who have their private beliefs and
respect mine.

I want a good cook, who knows how to cook vegetables and make delicious
soups. I want an old, old servant, who thinks I am a great man, but does not
know where my greatness is.

I want a good library, some good cigars and a woman who understands me and
leaves me free to do my work.
I WANT THE FREEDOM TO BE MYSELF

-Unknown

"FLAP-FLAP"

One small baby bird sitting on a tree
looking at the marvelous beauty
of the reds and yellows and greens
of the nature once again in its teens
overjoyed and probably over satisfied
with everything life has put beside
never a sorry nor a sigh
till the day he saw another baby bird fly

Not of jealousy nor disdain
just of the little right ankle's pain
knew-it all along and never dared
to step out of the tree it shared
with its parents kind and sweet
singing all day tweet-tweet

Chirped out loud to birds passing by
"teach me teach me how to fly"
there were three who stopped to help
chats like this were never felt
when it talked to his dad and mum
always teaching him to be calm
talking to peers, the vigor it brings
tried again to flap his little wings

Took his first flight forgetting the hurt
risk it was but excitement sure lurked
zooming into the higher blue
all the four now friends so true

One day two day and day three
time it was for the friends to leave
birds of flight may not recall
teaching the baby not to fall
but how will this poor baby bird Pete
forget his life's first fleet

A flip flap here and a flap flap there
didn’t take long for Pete to dare
to fly across the woods and hills
the place in heart that joy fills
but real joy was yet to arrive
she had just seen another bird strive

-Naveen Kumar

INVISIBLE DISTANCE

Wake up early in the morning
watch the beautiful sunrise
touched by the fresh windy air
to my soul's delight

English breakfast on the table
with fragrant earl-grey
with every relaxed thought
surely a promising day

Face my desktop
write reports non-stop
“busy?” Surely it does seem
worth leads to self-esteem

Lunch to dinner
the hours are few
sunset arrives
with a tantalizing hue

Watch the evening news
connected I am
follwed by action-drama
entertain me all I can

Throwing off my remaining clothes
as I fall in my bed
recollection of a perfect day
dawns upon my head

Everything so fine
so peacefully divine
though of any second person
there is no sign

Realized I did
the joy I miss
of sharing my life
whether happiness or strife

And just when I saw
the wide empty shell
of longing desire
of love -should I spell?

Loneliness is a dagger
which I did not see
till it goes right through
and then I knew it was true

Now I remember
the sunrise and sunset
now I remember
earl-grey - the promising day

And in every thought and
emotions remote
I find myself caught
in shackles of no-hope

And the pain grows stronger
as life seems to cease
will my tomorrow
pass with today-like ease

Focus I on the hollow of box
focus I on the dark
focus I on the sea-bed of rocks
deep where I seem to drown

Sounds does it pessimistic?
I will suggest deep
did I say too much thus far
or did I too much keep

Fishing life is full of shit
no true friends here exist
hatred if not betrayals
I know heart's shape is but a fist

Truth hurts always it does
and lies we learn to live
we're made to dream of perfection
isn't that a happy take and give?

I stand now on the balcony
sleep is far away
deep in my own melancholy
silence of sorrow stays

No hope no hope no hope
is all I hear inside
every positive thought that births
is killed at its first sight

Calm down- must I tell myself
this life I have to live
no reason why can't answer
afraid of cowardice

With every fresh-windy-air-morning thought
three of the sorrow combine
it’s like a lot of happy soldiers dying
battlefield the brain is mine!

Took a while but I began to see
the twilight in the sky
beautiful did the moon appear
as I looked up with my eyes

The rabbit shape some used to say
no trying hard to spot
and as I turned my other way
my attention Ursa caught

The trees so blue so dark
the shadows on the street
the beauty in the silence now
among depths I found new peak

A new peek at the world
a world my window showed
a world that sleeps in darkness
why everything so low

Cycle I see in my life
and cycle in the nature
cycle this world goes through too
even kings of highest stature

I am a citizen of this world
with many desires to gain
other people's love and care
but nothings free from pain

If definition of pain it is
the opposite of joy
then will there any joy be felt
with no inverse to compare by

Sad then should I be
why not, just another emotion it is
as long as in the visible distance
the dawn-lights my eyes see

-Naveen Kumar