The Barzakh

 The term Barzakh (بَرْزَخ) in Arabic literally means a barrier or partition that separates two things. In the Qur’an, barzakh is used in a general sense for any barrier – for example, a barrier between two bodies of water. When talking about life after death, Barzakh refers to the period after a person’s death and before their resurrection.

Every grave is a room
Its corners filled with days of memories passed, past
A clutter of kitsch and curio aplenty
Echoes of journeys taken and favors sought

Lights on... flick the lights off
The inhabitants yearn for nothing here
Windowless, no peering out
The occupants have no more desires in this place

Every grave is a room 
Filled with flowers, weeds and worms
Tear-filled nights and beautiful mornings 
Thoroughly beloved 
Are echoes here of another place

Your grave is your room
With laundry piled high and pairs of shoes left askew
Ties tied crooked and dress hems, dropped
It is a state that will never change
No it never improves

Time takes all things away
Sold sight unseen, it is as is it
In the blink of an eye, a twinkle perhaps
So make your bed


- CocoaTea Poetry🌱

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Time bound

 My skin still stings 

from lessons learnt 

So bitter, I gag

All these years later

- CocoaTea.Poetry

One hand does slap

Hazardous is

The hand that sweetly caresses your face 

Comforting, is

the same hand that presses you down

-cocoatea.poetry

Stress

 

Stress is a killer, It can take your breath away. It can make you feel like you're drowning, And there's no way out.

But there is a way out, You just have to find it. You have to find something that makes you happy, Something that takes your mind off of your troubles.

It could be anything, It could be a hobby, It could be spending time with loved ones, Or it could just be taking a walk in nature.

Whatever it is, Find it and hold on to it. Let it be your escape from stress, And let it help you find peace.

Stress is a part of life, But it doesn't have to control you. You can control it, If you just find the right way to deal with it.

-cocoatea.poetry

A Shifting Tide

A Shifting Tide

The world, a canvas, ever-changing in hue, 

A masterpiece where landscapes come and go. 

But in this dance of change, my heart feels somewhat blue, 

As familiar comforts slowly start to grow, The tides of time, they ebb and flow with grace, 

Yet leave behind a melancholy trace. 

The old gives way, the new begins its reign, 

But in this shift, a part of me remains.

I cling to memories, like shells upon the shore, 

A testament to what once was, and now no more. 

But in this sadness, hope begins to gleam, 

A promise of a future, a vibrant dream.

- cocoaTea.poetry

Introspective

Introspective

At times, its hard to express the way you truly feel. 

More often than not, we struggle to identify what that even is. 

All I can say is that I am grateful to God for His mercy. He is a great God and He loves me.

Impeding and recurrent

Like Arsenic, I smell sweet but leave bitter tips on tongues

I cause all things to burn, to blossom and become undone

I am famine, woe and ruination

I am the inner and outward expression of internal violation

I am the keeper of the peace, I am the breaker

I am the rudder on the ship in the storm

I am the unraveling of all things,

I am your strife and your sword

I sing your lullabies and keep you warm,

not in winter but in summer when you don't need me

I am thirsty, I am grace, I am pain

I screech, I devour and I accomplish

Yearly subscription to my services except for the mercies of God

I have come to tell you about a time, incipient, incumbent, that will come

Rest in knowing that its all moving, not a funeral dirge

but the whoosh sound of quickness

before our comprehension

There exists a proof and

a pattern to be found in these woes, these wounds, these scars

- cocoaTea.poetry

composed 26.8. 2023

Overwhelmed and going under

This thing lives in my chest

It stifles and strangles me, wheezing tight sips of blessed breath 

between gnashing teeth and a clench-locked jaw

I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to die

I want to say all the pretty words

I want to sing pretty melodies

with crafty, competent accompaniment

But this thing lives in my chest, rent free

No taxes, no overhead, no HOA, no finders fee

Through tight thoughts and scrunched foreheads,

 throbbing veins and squinting eyes

I want to scream, I want to cry

This thing bubbling over 

 a roiling boil, yet it never rises to the top

Oh, let the mercies of God keep me.

- cocoaTea.poetry