canadian author / canadian poetry / natasha head / poem / poetry / poetry by tashtoo / writing by natasha head

Reflections of Perception

When you are involved within an industry that is as volatile as real estate, it can be beyond frustrating.  Buyers want to buy for as little as possible, sellers want to sell for as much as possible, and at the end of the day, someone is bound to be upset.  I like to say I’ve seen saints turn into sinners for the sake of a dollar, but I think it’s more about one-upping the other.  Yesterday I had a real treat, as I watched complete strangers pick apart a house…when they started picking apart the owner (who they wouldn’t know from Adam) I had to draw the line.  I explained to them that a family lived in the home, real live people, and there was a good chance they were pretty proud of that home, and I found their comments both distasteful and out of line.  Probably won’t be sewing them up as clients anytime soon, and despite the loss of a pay day, I was pleased to see that at least my statements made an impact.  What I’m most proud of, and yes, perhaps I’m setting myself up for a pretty big fall, was that I at least said something and their derogatory comments came to an end.
I think, this is one of the biggest problems with our world today.  The fact that we allow ourselves to feel bigger and better at the sake of another.  Pretty shameful! These grown people, the age of my parents, tittering and giggling like school children, because THEY would NEVER have done it that way. UGGG! I’m ranting now, and I do apologize, but it did inspire a poem! Yay! For better or for worse, away we go.

Reflections of Perception
So carefully crafted, this YOU, you present
For all of the world to see
I wonder if but for a moment
You would embrace my reality?
I see beyond designer tags
And cars from foreign lands
I hear beyond the great big words
And know you are but a man
This reflection of your perception
Is a stain upon your heart
As you try to hold yourself together
By ripping us apart.
We care not for pretty things
On that we can’t agree
That what colours your fantastic dream
Is not our reality.
What is solid is not real
And will not last forever
Enjoy this opulence while you can
To keep yourself together.
So paint a fantastic canvass
Of this life you will not sell
And when the wheel spins once again
Another story you will tell.
For this chapter within your tale
Is but a mere reflection
Karma is a funny thing
Always open to perception.
Deny the hard and fast free fall
That waits around the bend
And when you hit the solid ground
Explain your perception.
I will be here…I will wait
I’ll not forget the likes of you
For you have shown another side
Of what this world can do.
We are one, under same sun
We share the air we breathe
Together is the way way to live
I am you and you are me.
Embrace the love, embrace the pain
Embrace what makes life real
It is a journey filled with change
But one you have to feel.
~Natasha Head~


3 thoughts on “Reflections of Perception

  1. I know you felt this wasn't poetic enough, but I politely beg to differ. In all honesty, my first thought was I wish I had written this. It's direct and solid and says things that need to be said far more than they are. Still, what I like best about it is the pulse that carries one verse to the next; each stanza seems to refine the point more clearly, as if you're trying to get through to someone who doesn't want to listen. There's not an excess word here, and I want to stand behind you with each one and say, go, go, go! Love the conflicting strains of maya/illusion and truth that are laced through it, but then you sum it up in the end with what really matters. Embrace it all, but make you embrace what is real. Brava!!

  2. smiles. thanks for pushing that other perception tash…we need more of that…and honestly those people probably needed to feel better about themselves and what better way to do it than cut someone else down…i love to ask people why they say these things…it makes them think…i agree with ben on the verse…say it!

  3. I was an financial advisor but a master salesman was my trade…I loved your poem..this part..So paint a fantastic canvassOf this life you will not sellwas well put my dear…lovely poem..

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