Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: existential poetry

  • Fancy Caprices

    Fancy Caprices

    In the realm of fantasy, fancy caprices reigned supreme,
    There was nonsense, just whimsical dreams,
    Fluttering like leaves in the wind,
    A kaleidoscope of emotions with no end.

    In the labyrinth of dreams, impulses roamed like butterflies in the wind,
    Unpredictable, yet captivatingly magnificent,
    Delightful and fanciful visions of never-ending desires,
    Which will be buried forever in the garden of dissent.

    In the garden of dissent, where secrets lie,
    Fanciful visions hid beneath the sky.
    Whispers of dreams, both wild and free,
    Boundless imagination for all to unearth.

    Amongst the flowers, where shadows ruled,
    Capricious fantasies found their way into the gardens of whims.
    Entwined with vanities, in an enchanted embrace,
    They lingered in the stillness in secluded realms.

    But unawareness misled in labyrinths of meadows and blossoms,
    In the deep abyss, the essence of aether and mystery was boundless and enigmatic.
    For every dream that discovered its refuge,
    A new constellation in the night sky glowed.

    So devotion to these caprices, both wild and rare, endured,
    For in their fleeting instants lay divine enchantments.
    In the realm of fantasy, where dreams ascended,
    Fanciful visions bloomed in the gardens of the night.

    In the realm of fantasies, where shadows appeared,
    Magic terrors lurked with eerie trance.
    Spells of mighty power whispered in the night,
    Witches and ghosts, their presence alight.

    Through moonlit woods, they roamed with glee,
    Their whispers echoed across land and sea.
    In the stillness of midnight’s darkest nightmares,
    They weaved their spells with ancient power.

    Ghosts with eyes of silver and gold, witches with cloaks of black and blue,
    Their presence filled the night, leaving no track.
    They cast their enchantments, with a flick of the hand,
    Creating wonders and fears across the infinite universe.

    But those who dared to dream too much,
    Often found themselves out of touch.
    For in this realm, reality might have been shredded to pieces,
    And dreams and nightmares might have ruled the nights with their spellbinding fears.

    Thoughts and longings whispered softly to the night,
    awaiting their chance to stare at the starlight.
    For in the silent realm of dreams, nothing was unconcealed,
    Mysteries remained undisclosed, cloaked in the ethereal embrace of the deepest night.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Silent Tears

    Silent Tears

    Silent tears were still like frozen stones in the hushed garden of desires and consolations, and nothing could have been moveable.

    Avid shadows of hollow trees entrapped a patient glance of timid lights. Once more, the darkness of the clouds sovereigned the gloominess.

    Longings and blisses of long nights seemed to blend with the whims of lonely nightmares. Unattainable reveries of lost treasures were hunting every dream in despair.

    Silent tears tore the melancholy apart like a ripped canvas, which was a perfect vestige of beauty and sublimity. Soliloquies of whimsical moments remained immobile.

    Fears perturbed serenity like a fierce storm in the night skyline amid the open sea. Lonely thoughts of solemnity echoed through the infinite firmament.

    Timid and fanciful rhymes chanted sonnets of defeat and disillusion. Surreal waves of startling emotions faded away in the recesses of memory, leaving a lingering sense of bewilderment.

    Teardrops of sadness and solitude descended on the cold soil like delicate rain, merging with the earth’s quiet sorrow as soon as spells and enchantments were whispered into the air, casting an ethereal ambience of mysticism.

    Realms of dismay enveloped the atmosphere, shrouding everything in a sombre veil of gloom. Amidst this forlorn kingdom, whispers of expectation lingered, softly weaving through the shadowy realms.

    The void of nothingness swallowed every trace of the sublime, leaving behind an eerie silence and a vast and empty aether. While soft whispering deceits wove a web of illusions, masking the truth in mesmerising deception.

    Beneath a starless sky, silence reigned, holding secrets in the obsidian folds of the night. Passions lingered in the quiet, undisclosing mysterious and concealed tales of love and death.

    In the realm of hypnotic darkness, each sigh cradled unshed tears, legends of veiled sorrows ensnared within the silent embrace of wonder, ethereality and oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Ghostly Silence

    Ghostly Silence

    In the realm of serendipity, ghostly silence disquieted the dark blue night skies. Shadows lingered among ethereal whispers. The universe was enveloped in a quietude that transcended time.

    Nocturnal mysteries awoke, unseen and untouched by the gleaming days. A subtle hush of stillness settled upon the material realms as a delicate veil of calmness where silence was unfurled.

    No whispers were in the breeze, and no rustles were in the leaves, just a subtle tranquility as nature softly breathed—an echo of quiet grace, a tranquil moment when time found its resting domain.

    The firmament held secrets that were never to be revealed. In this ghostly silence, there was no place for spoken words, which were subtle hushes—a language of dreams and tranquil thoughts.

    The stars, as silent witnesses, cast their glow upon the dark landscapes. Like distant longings, luminaries twinkled in the vast expanse of the cosmic void—an existence wrapped in tranquil isolation.

    A boundless torpor reverberated like a secret undisclosed in the universe. The unbounded oblivion was an unexplored wilderness where fancies and whims drifted without the anchor of reality.

    A spectral essence permeated the quietude as an ethereal harmony of emotions, which were too profound for literacy in the metaphysical absence of turmoil.

    The ordinary transformed into the extraordinary. The ethereality unfolded in the subtle beauty of an intense storm, revealing the mesmerizing power within its tumultuous embrace.

    Beneath the celestial canvas, where time paused, starlit flowers adorned the cosmic night, weaving tales of forsaken desires and passions. Each glimmering star whispered astral sonnets in the boundless night.

    Ephemeral hues enlightened the soundless sky, blending reality with dreams and transcending mortal perceptions. Clouds entwined with supernal wonders beyond the grasp of earthly understanding.

    In this supernatural unveiling, shadows faded away, leaving fragments of stardust in the tumult of sighs and anguish. An unpretentious quietness prevailed—a whisper of infinity in the vastness of the infinity.

    The poetry of the universe was inscribed in the eternal manuscripts of the darkness, each verse echoing through the aether of nothingness. Cosmos murmurs shattered the fragile strands of silence through the vast expanse of the universe.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Desolate Echoes

    Desolate Echoes

    Desolate echoes lingered in abandoned chambers of dreams, whispering tales of solitude.
    Shadows cast a loud silence, disclosing secrets in the cold stillness.
    Unheard voices were forsaken since bygone years, and memories were etched in the walls.
    In the quietude, loneliness took its place as a haunting companion.
    Yet within this emptiness, a subtle prowess emerged, somewhat like a silent resistance to the echoes of solitude.
    Life’s intricate story unfolded in the hushed mazes of fantasy, where absurdities encountered reality.
    Among the ruins of neglected reveries, sighs faded with the winds, and heartbeats of longings melted in silent harmonies.
    Twilights painted desolated hues of melancholy as the moonlight weaved tales of forlorn hopes.
    Treads of yesteryears resonated in the haunted dwellings of nostalgia, tracing the path of dreams forever lost to time.
    In the realm of dark shadows, the dance of memories continued perpetually, revealing fragments of elapsed times like whispers in the dusk.
    Amid the debris of desolate thoughts, perseverance bloomed as a quiet anthem of strength rising from the ashes of what once existed.
    In the obliviousness of nonsense and despair, silent and gloomy tears created a mosaic of fate and disgrace.
    The seal of destiny inscribed engravings on the sand, whose strokes weaved threads of anguish and uncertainty into the narrative of time.
    Through the window of dismay, lone stars witnessed the transit of forgotten tales, casting their glow on the realm of the infinity.
    In the secretive silence, unbounded solaces embraced the emptiness of futile yearnings, conveying stories of elusive contentment in the furtive enigmas.
    And all of a sudden, everything was shuttered into fragments of memories of nocturnal nightmares and disrupted relics of elusive weariness in a moonless abyss.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Veiled Sorrow

    A Veiled Sorrow

    A veiled sorrow of lost hopes appeared on a doomed night,
    When no more desires were ever granted.
    Longings and regrets missed their chance for retrieval,
    And a symphony of echoes hauntingly resided in the stillness of despair.

    Long before the stars lost their nightly glow,
    And the moon witnessed tales of woe,
    Sorrowful contemplations perturbed a timeless elation,
    Whilst emotions defied every explanation.

    Magnificent anguish lingered in the silent air,
    Nightmares burdened lost loves and hopes with passion.
    Whispers of nostalgia haunted concealed griefs,
    Somber and forsaken dreams faded into the infinite darkness.

    Once no more desires were granted, the hourglasses were inverted,
    Time’s sighs were relentless, and dreams diverted.
    Yet, within the echoes of melancholy and resignation,
    Resilient laments emerged, immovable and mighty.

    In the silent labyrinths of time’s ceaseless flow,
    Long before echoes of forgotten blisses,
    A firmament of enchanted mysteries quietly unraveled,
    Revealing the ethereal beauty sealed within the stillness of twilight.

    Within the fragile fate of doomed desires,
    Frailty clung to every fleeting instance.
    Wishes dissolved like whispers in the vast universe,
    Fragments of longings lingered like stardust in the vast void.

    No more bestowed yearnings were granted beneath cloudless skies,
    And a relentless cynicism overwhelmed boundless fleeting fantasies,
    Leaving behind a desolate landscape where aspirations withered in the arid winds,
    Casting shadows over relics of endeavors.

    Long before stars lost their shining gleam,
    And dreams vanished like sable castles,
    The hope and destiny wove intricate mazes,
    A requiem for aspirations mourned the unrealized dreams.

    Decay and folly dwelled in the emptiness of the aether,
    Where shadows waltzed amidst the void,
    And secrets of foolish chances found solace,
    As a consequence of whims and caprices.

    An everlasting flame burned every devotion to ashes,
    Leaving behind fragments of fervor turned to dust.
    A spectral sonnet of allegiance was now ash in the breeze,
    And a love’s anthem was silenced, lost in the rustle of leaves.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Like A Porcelain Doll

    Like A Porcelain Doll

    Like A Porcelain Doll

    And it was like in a nightmare
    While I was lying inert on a cold bed like a porcelain doll
    I could not conceive why those things happened for a reason
    Maybe I was too naive to realise such closeness
    Perhaps I was too childish to protect myself
    Letting the submission paralyse my mind

    It never mattered who I really was
    It never mattered what I really desired
    Because the most important thing was social etiquette and fulfilled other’s desires
    I had to embellish myself like a porcelain doll
    I had to smile with my elegant dresses and impeccable makeup devotedly
    Some pretty bow in my long blond hair and a sumptuous dress as a daily routine

    I was empty, and I could not find myself
    Being constantly busy to be submissive and amiable
    Exhausted and broken
    I was never good enough
    And then, I had to lose myself
    Becoming who I was expected to be

    The echo of my silence was loud in my mind
    The only place where I was feeling safe
    Respect and love were remote chimaeras
    The coldness around me was freezing my heart
    My feelings being trapped in a desperate endeavour to be loved
    And trying to piece together scattered fragments of myself.
    Esther Racah

  • I Don’t Like Writing

    I Don’t Like Writing

    I Don’t Like Writing

    I don’t like writing
    Nevertheless, it is an unavoidable activity for me, such as breathing
    As long as silence talks to me, many impressions crowd into my mind
    Often I stay idle, wondering about random ideas
    But I am not able to rationalise all that is inscrutable
    It is as time shows me life in pictures
    Like a collection of many old miniature paintings
    Some of them are blurred
    And others are very unambiguous
    All those words of mine give only sporadic impressions about myself
    All those poems of mine are only fragments of me
    My poetry is accessible for everyone to read
    My poetry is not trapped in a book
    My poetry is absolutely a wild living thing that breaths
    Hence, I chose the freedom to express myself straightforwardly.
    Esther Racah

  • My Words

    My Words

    My Words

    There are not enough words in the dictionary
    To describe all my emotions and mindsets
    Most of the time, silence is the way I express myself
    And I stay idle like a dead leaf floating on the smooth watery surface of a lake
    Memories, good and bad ones, drag me into a timeless place, which is all mine
    And where I can stay until my consciousness brings me back to reality
    I will always question myself over and over
    Wondering if it is worth sharing my feelings
    And pondering whether unknown strangers will understand my thoughts
    Sometimes I am afraid of revealing too much about myself
    Nevertheless, my words are the only things that remain of me.
    Esther Racah

  • The Apotheosis Of My Illusions

    The Apotheosis Of My Illusions

    The Apotheosis Of My Illusions

    The apotheosis of my illusions
    When I pretend to conform to absurd customs
    Laying in an algid iron cage while I dream of freedom
    Trying to protect the essence of myself
    I cling to my excessive determination
    And once I release my scream of despair
    I become an ethereal creature
    Surrounded by glistening stars
    Gracefully I embrace my griefs
    Since I am made of my own dreams and anguishes
    Silently I compose my chant of foolishness
    Letting the oblivion fooling me
    Forgetting about who I am
    I become aware that eternity strokes my soul
    As I detach from the material finiteness
    All my senses melt like snowflakes
    As soon as I become part of the sublime
    Unwinding my dreams and avoiding all the chains
    I attempt to disentangle myself from my illusions.
    Esther Racah

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