When I was younger I took a lot of shortcuts
But when you’re older and you hit a brick wall
You have to wait
Wait for a process that grinds you and turns you to zero
You have to learn and embrace a process that molds you into something different
Something not everyone will embrace or want to be a part off
You have to love a process that isolates you and molds the true you
When I was younger I used to take shortcuts
But there are no shortcuts when you’re young or older
I went searching for the one they call Solomon’s wisdom
I went searching for something, I can now no longer remember
Oh yes, I went searching for the promise
The promise from of old
The one the watchmen have cleverly hidden
The one the clever ones know to speak nothing of
Like your fool, I went searching for you
Cunning wisdom, some call Sophia
A nameless one named by man
But what I found was afflicted
What I found was madness
What I found was death blossoming into life
An unholy crow sanctified by God alone
They said I was crazy
But life is crazy
To be alive is to be dead
To be aware is to be alive yet dead
Where’s the promise of old
The new to become
In Golgotha which is to say skull
There they crucified us
There they left us to rot in the morning sun
Save us Lord, save us
For our delusion is more than we can bare
We’ve become the sons of sorrow
And our prophesy has become endless
Save us Lord, save us
For our rock is unknown in this earth
A penny for my thoughts? What’s a million thoughts per second worth?
I’ve heard people say; “Communication is key”
But I’ve had a hard time communicating.
Sometimes, it’s like white noise when I speak
People can barely understand.
The perplexed glare on their faces
Like “what is she going on about?”
Language! Language is key to communication
The ability to enthrall an audience with language so sophisticated it’s like getting intoxicated with fine wine.
Language! Language can be weapon
Able to control the mind of another
Then again, there’s Words! – The codes to cracking the power of language. The very fabric of society’s ability to communicate. But words aren’t always what they seem.
If I could be a word-smith
Maybe I could master the power of language and be the master communicator.
But then, along comes phonetics and its ability to twist the hearer’s perception of words
“Communication is key” they say!
But I’m left wondering; whatever happened to connection?
What if we could communicate without the delusion of words
What if I could connect with you without communication?
Now that would be the day I become a master communicator!
I haven’t written any poems in a while, cos I’ve been too busy being a working mum. 😦
I wrote this one for the little old lady down the road. For NancyLee
A smile in time
That’s what she gave
The little lady that’s more of an angel than a little lady
She’s everyone’s favorite
For like magic she captured me with her smile and almost quirky sense of humor
First impression wasn’t much to go by
But second impressions! Well that’s her specialty
She’ll wow your heart when you do meet her twice
Twice I say, cos no one really gets away with the best first impressions
Even then, a smile in time is what she gave me
It had been a lonesome week
Burdened with nothing but disappointments & uncertain anxieties
With a smile, she took most of it away
We never know what we could give
With a smile in time
Perhaps, just enough to save a life!
It’s easy for the world to break you
It’s easy to get swept away
It’s easy to become invisible
Sometimes, it’s easy to stop believing
Where did you go wrong when you had it all right
The right opportunities
The right timing
The right energy
But soon enough you realize
The right everything isn’t enough
Something is still missing
Is it the attitude?
Is it some ethereal force
Is it the right person/people
Every choice leads you a step closer to tomorrow
Perhaps tomorrow is your destiny
Then again tomorrow isn’t guaranteed
Still you push forward
Wishing you could fast forward
Everyday is another roller coaster
Waiting for that big break
Hoping to stop being invisible
Hoping those who don’t think much of you finally see what you see
Hoping you haven’t spent a lifetime deceiving yourself
Yet, to deceive oneself for a lifetime isn’t all too bad
To live in fantasy land hoping for that big break isn’t all too bad either
Cos you might just make it to that silly fun land if you run fast enough
And if there’s enough time to complete this race.
I pray you make it
I pray those who looked down on you get to say they were wrong
I hope you make it
I hope your tears dry up
And I hope you find happiness in this miserable world
I hope you shine brighter than any star
And your history be that of a happy ending
I hope your tale be the story of God
I hope you make it in time
I hope you find happily ever after
I hope your wishes come through
I hope you find that big break
There’s never enough time
Time to be grateful
Time to say thank you
Or time to be appreciative
Perhaps it’s time to say sorry
Sorry I never took time to appreciate what I got
Time to say; sorry I forgot to meditate in the moment
Sorry I should have been thankful
There’s never enough time because time flies by
Or is it us who fly by?
Chasing after time, when time is right behind us
Looking back in time is always melancholic
There’s no room for us there anymore
And the future seems somewhat of a mysterious creature
Never showing it’s face in time to keep our fears at bay
But I’m grateful I’ve got this moment in time
To appreciate and say thank you.
I know you didn’t wake up just to read about pregnancy sex
Then again, maybe you did
Well maybe not pregnancy sex to be exact
But we both know the word sex got your curiosity peaked and your eyes glued to a poetic piece that isn’t so poetic after all when you come to think of it.
The how to have pregnancy sex should be the title
Like how does one get past those gas bubbles and constant bloating
Or how do you get past the constant need to pee every 2 seconds, just so you could reach for a blissful orgasm that is intense and more memorable than the fart you just let rip 2 mins into that blessed fore-play session with your darling spouse
Trimester 1 is both blessed and cursed
It can go one way or another
The morning sickness either turns you off completely or your growing uterus suddenly turns you into a nymph wanting to devour her partner every time there’s a flat surface in sight
Trimester 2 is where it starts to get interesting
Your bulging stomach reminds your kind hearted husband that there’s a little hugglemonster in there.
He must now constantly thread ever so gently and lightly else his imaginary ginormous genital rips the veil and cracks the skull of his precious child
Then again that giant bulge can make you too tired to want anyone touching you in the first place
Trimester 3 is usually my favorite.
Morning sickness is a thing of the past.
You’re pretty much used to the pains of your stretching ligaments
And your humongous uterus pushing hard on your feminine parts makes you once more, a sex addict craving only for imaginary sex.
Lets face it, you can hardly bend or lie properly, let alone present your nether regions for some gentle loving
When it’s all said and done
You know you love it.
You love being pregnant and you love pregnancy sex
Be it awesome or non existent
Cos you know it can only go 2 ways
or Completely Non-Existent
The only thing you want even more is food
** You wont get the humor in this poem if you’ve never been pregnant, aren’t currently pregnant or if you’re male** 🙂
1914 IV. THE DEAD
By Rupert Brooke
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
These had seen movement, and heard music; known
Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;
Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;
Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.
There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
A width, a shining peace, under the night.