|I write in three languages. That which belongs to the pen, that which is inspired by the heart and that which the spirit manifested.|
"once a cheater, always a cheater"
I'm sure most of us have heard this statement before. It's the first set of stones people throw on someone when they discover that person has been guilty of infidelity but is it really true. After all human beings are incredibly complex beings and what we perceive on the surface rarely begins to scratch the beneath the surface.
Is infidelity incredibly harmful to those who it hurts, absolutely and the individuals who have been victims of this have every reason to be angry. Their feelings of hurt are completely valid after all it is a natural reaction but this is the thing about hurt, it often takes deep roots and if left untreated can fester into somethi...
If you want to time travel, you should consider going to Ethiopia. today is the Ethiopian New Years and the year is officially 2010 😃
Depression and Suicide.
Every day it seems I meet one new person, who is struggling against a tide of dehumanisation and inhumanity.
The real mental health issue is that those who are apathetic, who have become sociopathic and dissociative, have been allowed to rule us or just plain get away with bad behavior.
These bad people, have caused inhumanity to sink it's teeth and claws into human experience and governance.
People are sick and tired of this inhumanity.
Let me say this to you, those of you who are weary and forlorn, should know that there is nothing so much at all wrong with you, that you are merely the canary in the coal mine of the inhumanity you are experiencing.
I say th...
Skylark Challenge 102
"And God said
let us make the I and I
in our image.
Let us separate the l i g h t
in his heart, from the dark.
Let us cause every living thing
To creep upon him.
Let us fill his heart with nusic
And his voice with an everlasting song.
Let us create a paradise where his lips may graze the frivolous tangent of a fruit hanging from off of a tree.
Then let us make the planets to surround his body and divide the ignorance from out of his womb.
Let us build the feminine and infuse her with everything that he is missing.
And it was so.
The I and I formed from the breath of a kiss and the womb, carrying life intimately...
If one must ponder upon the power of language, it would be remiss to ignore George Orwell's literary masterpiece "1984"..
A novel the focuses on the corrupting and potential corrosive nature of language when it is set free and unhindered by constraint.
That the greatest act of rebellion will always be the human mind and if one can control the use of every day semantics or the very essence of speech, it is inevitable that the human spirit can be forced into submission. Control not only the thoughts that push towards the conquest of liberty but remove the very fabric that allows you to express these thoughts of discontent and you can inoculate humanity from the travesty of even desiri...
Skylark challenge 101
* TRANCE (a
Bring me roses
That I may cloister your indifference
Into a fragile net.
That the fragility of such thoughts
May wrap my body in some far fetched dream.
That I may hold life in both hands
Cupping the red bayonet of W a r
In d e f e a t.
I am not here.
I am made of all the miraculous moments
Both great and small.
I am the t r a n c e of a stillborn face
Still seeking anonymity for my identity.
Bring me roses at midnight
Lay them at the foot of my chair
Nestle them beneath my toes
So that they may reflect candle light
Like sea glass on distant shore.
The b u r d e n sits on my shoulders like a pendulum swinging from...
She is beautiful.
She is beautifully unrefined.
She is beautifully refined by life.
She is life personified though she may
Be unrefined. A delicate petal floating.
.she is powerful and perpetually loved
She is every constellations dream.
Her heart a tower made of
Gold, spun from laughter.
She is ethereal.
She is lucid
We are lives inseparable,
a palatable expression of old desires
bursting in new ones.
We are hardened cheeks
and bitter fragments of skin,
blowing in the wind.
we are slivers of sunlight
cut out of the smiles
that our mouths will never be able to hold
and hearts that wrestle
with the need for understanding.
We are the divinity of God
inside old coats of flesh.
A rickety bridge strung across the frontal
of a mind becoming undone.
We are everything
we did not choose to be.
#SKYLARK CHALLENGE 100 -
On the chance that you meet tomorrow
Like it is an old friend
Who has journeyed from so far away
I wonder if you will embrace her,
Pull her into the loose lipped cusp of a smile
That has never been real.
I wonder if you’ll take her by the hand.
R a c i n g pulse and baited breathe,
Attempting to hold onto the promise of her
For dear life.
And when she arrives
And she’s wrapped in all the terror you did not see,
All the words you could not hear,
Will you still love her?
When tomorrow meets you in the street
And you find out that she is really just a...
has claimed more lives
than the world will ever know.
It's weapon of choice,
For all the parents out there. 😂😂😂😂
A man observed a woman in the grocery store with a three year old girl in her basket. As they passed the cookie section, the child asked for cookies and her mother told her "no." The little girl immediately began to whine and fuss, and the mother said quietly, "Now Ellen, we just have half of the aisles left to go through; don't be upset. It won't be long."
He passed the Mother again in the candy aisle. Of course, the little girl began to shout for candy. When she was told she couldn't have any, she began to cry. The mother said, "There, there, Ellen, don't cry. Only two more aisles to go, and then we'll be checking out."
The man again happened to ...
As a teen, I can remember sitting around in my friends house with 4 other girls and each of us having this long discussion about who we would see ourselves dating or getting married too in the future.
Suddenly the conversation went from "oh my god, he should have really nice eyes" to age differences.
"one of my friends said she would only date a man who was 5 years older and no more.
Another one said she'd be okay if he was younger but only by 2 years.
And my last friend, who I'll call Nicky, said he had to be born with in 12 months of her. She was very very specific. During this whole time, as was often the case, I didn't say anything.
They turned and asked, well what ab...
Skylark challenge #98
Your heart tethers itself to mine
With an overwhelming abundance of r o p e s.
Leaves kisses on the back of hard shelled spine.
Most nights are spent luxuriating in the tantalizing feeling of a smile.
C i t y h i g h
You grip a spliff in between your teeth, allowing smoke to curl and caress your heart like its the last time that you will ever see me.
The years sinking deep into the memory of you and how often you conflictingly vindicate reason.
Confiscate judgement in exchange for a moment of your time.
My words find themselves lost and reticent with all the sentiments I wish to tell you.
No one ever speaks if goo...
My response to my pen pal "pen name" questions.
Dear Pen Name,
1. If you were sent back in time, what would you do if you had a chance to be alone with baby Hitler?
there is a quote that I love which says this.
"If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility."
I would believe that in the case of hitler, this quote could potentially apply. There is no doubt that many of the attrocities commited in his name, were absolute evil. It is difficult to comprehend that one human being could be consumed with so much darkness, that they could then embody that darkness as if it were apart of their DNA...
Dear Melodic Rose,
The most interesting dish I've ever eaten was rotten quail eggs that my mom prepared one Halloween which consisted of potatoes, cheese, and broccoli.
In my opinion, friendship means having mutual respect, loyalty, and trust.
The second and third commandments are the ones I break regularly.
For now, I ask you the same questions.
1. If you were sent back in time, what would you do if you had a chance to be alone with baby Hitler?
2. What would you wish for from a Genie?
3. What would you do if you could turn invisible?
Missing by Julie Andrews
This poem always makes me smile 😉
I’ve lost my sense of humor.
It fell into a well
That’s full of dark self-pity
as far as I can tell.
I’m glared at by the children,
I’m yelled at by the boss.
And every little word I say,
Makes everybody cross.
I’d run away and not come back
If it would do some good.
But nobody would notice,
So I don’t think I should.
I miss my sense of humor,
And if by chance you see
It peeking ’round the corner,
Please send it back to me
An Attempt at Unrhymed Verse
by Wendy Cope
People tell you all the time,
Poems do not have to rhyme.
It's often better if they don't
And I'm determined this one won't.
Never mind, I'll start again.
Busy, busy with my pen...cil.
I can do it if I try--
Easy, peasy, pudding and gherkins.
Writing verse is so much fun,
Cheering as the summer weather,
Makes you feel alert and bright,
'Specially when you get it more or
less the way you want it.
Long after the first flowers began its transformation
Summer arrived with a fist in its back pocket
And a revolver tucked into its throat.
Its tongue languished on the vine,
Drawing a l i n e into the sand,
Like a f a m i l y tie, too frayed for existence.
The heart throbbed,
A dissident sigh mellifluously perched on the branch
Of a large oak tree
And still a simple prayer could be heard
Falling out of the hands of a woman
Who had not yet learned the meaning of faith.
Her heart b a l a n c e d ackwardly somewhere between love
And deep sense of self loathing.
Her eyes akin to the vestibule inside of h...
They are pouring your body into a vat of concrete.
Red wine purloins itself through the oscillating veins
In your forearm.
You are no longer yourself,
You are simply the leftover residue
Of a kiss placed on the back porch of your heart.
Your body the same beautiful asa vacant expression.
There are faces here, pressed up against your skull
And a pound of flesh that has peeled itself away from your bones
As if fear is the only thing holding you together.
Your joints symbiotically caressed by eyes that seem to bare into you.
Your hands curving their way through the long grass
Growing out your head.
You remember the past,
With every braid that is brought into fruiti...
Grandmother takes my heart
Into both of her hands.
Placing kisses in the center
Where the tremor is most powerful.
As if to say
“This is where you will be most beautiful”
And I believe her.
But words turn into butterflies
Falling deep into the consummate desire
Of a summer gone too soon.
Leaving my heart with little to stand on
Save the memory of a woman
Who not only chose to see me
But loved me in spite of myself.
The day Grandma died,
The earth choked its final symphony.
Gaia cradling the body of a woman
Whose life had lit my universe
for as long as I could remember.
Only when the stars came home that night
Did I realize how much of her life
Had been poured i...
You say that you long to know me.
Yet you spend more time gazing over my flesh
Than looking into my eyes.
Your hands taking in my body illegally, when it should be grasping my hand in a firm shake.
You ask me what my name is?
And the only word that comes to mind is disrespect.
The most beautiful parts of you
Will always call you home.
Long after you forget your name
And your voice,
Long after you made a mess out of your existence
You will still find the ability to pick yourself up out of the dirt.
The most beautiful parts of you
Are not elegance painted
Not splashes of colour.
They are flame and sinewed bone,
Fear and impatience.
Petulance and a smile carved out of all of your broken bones
They are scars loved deep into your flesh by a heart that says I will never let you go.
The most beautiful parts of you are stars, after its last light has suddenly supernova"d into endless obscurity of your past
It is where your heart became consumed with the nee...
I've known Hunger like I've known love. Scarce fleeting scathing fragments of desire, hanging eloquently from the back of my knees.
I've known Hunger like I've known friendship and hope and passion.
The deep permeable ache in the pit of my belly, clamour's for just a touch of yesterday's meal.
I've known poverty too. The maddening dance of an empty pocket, screaming out fill me with something more than your broken dreams.
I've held the Hand of a comprised future, devoid of its hope and sought to leave kisses down its spine.
I've walked into rooms, wearing my last good dress and a pair of black shoes eulogized by holes in the backs of heels. A left over piece of a promise tha...
An Unpublished Manuscript of J.D. Salinger
by Rider Strong
It is possible to assassinate my heroes
with the scope of my individualism
However, by their own persistence to themselves
I believe that they have chosen me to pursue a self
What is literature
but the illumination of that which I would write?
Salinger speaks through me, to me
whispers, ‘Where to, little boy?’
My answer is the dogged pen to page
which lights consistently the pathway home
It is on that road
that I alone can trip my way back to myself.
This poem was written by one of the actors in the TV show boy meets world. I love it
Your eyes meet mines.
Dark twisted pupils coming out to play on the back of my flesh. Digging hatred into my flesh. So even though you won't say a word to me, I can still feel the harsh reality of you.
You with the blood soaked menstrual coloured dress, that reminds me of the devil Wears Prada. You being the devil, Prada being far too beautiful for the emptiness that seems to claw it's way through your face. Your lips turned into a perpetual scowl.
You walk past me, look through me, pretending not to see me. Showering me with all the bitterness that has hardened your heart and I must wonder how it felt to hear your eulogy read aloud for the first time. Why your body is such a pie...
The temporal pariah sets off towards the horizon. Laundering her heart with a bevy of imminent thoughts. A sweltering bevy of passion and pain, courses it's way through the ambivalent veins.
Her smile hanging by the thread of tomorrow.
A soulful reprise squanders itself.
It is the onslaught of the day.
A mere frivolous play thing
Hands wreak of hatreds rancor.
Stimulating the tremor of a life barely begun.
She is the last kiss of summer
A breathe of the eternal
Construed of the most temperate melody in creation.
Magnificent and brazen, her hips two jutting landscapes amongst a barren waste land.
She screams of nudity and flesh.
Broken bone and jagged tounge..
Power and a iride...
A little jamaican humour , (written in patois so you'll have to read carefully to get the joke but if you do it's pretty hilarious 😂)
" One night a man was was relaxing watching TVJ (local TV station) when out of the kitchen came his wife with a pan --BOOF!-- "a who name Holly?" asked the wife.
"Mi jus see a paper eena yuh pocket wid di name 'Holly' pon it, WHO IS SHE?".
The man rubbing, rubbbing the back of his head, said "me and Richie did dung ah di racetrack tiddeh an dat is di name of di horse weh we bet pan, a wah duh yuh?!!".
So the wife apologized, kissed his head, and went back to her chores.
15 minutes later the wife storms out of the kitchen again --BOOF!! BAM!!
"A WHA DUH...
A shift in mindset towards consciously embracing who you are and standing in your truth is the ultimate revolutionary act. If others ' get your journey, it wasn't meant for them. Leave them behind. People often want to police the thoughts of others. Those who do the "policing" are usually in bondage and don't even realize it. How can a prisoner free someone from their chains, when they are in captivity themselves. If they haven't undergone the work it takes to fully transform themselves, why would they ever believe that they can or should "fix" someone else. This isn't just ignorance, it screams ego. If someone has stolen your pen, in an attempt to write your story. Take it back and confide...