I used to be a
rocking chair
in the home of a lovely
elderly two.
In the summers I sat in the shade
on the porch
that was my world.

But I got tired of going
back and forth
with the same old things

I used to be
a pair of rubber gloves
belonging to the maid
of a grand old palace.
I held the sponges
that cleaned the biggest of ballrooms
and the feather duster
that danced along
the most delicate riches.

But I didn't like
being used
to do someone’s
***** work.

I've been a wish from a genie
(I was taken for granted)
I've been the pencil of an artist
(That job was too sketchy)

I was a sapphire gem in a mineral museum
(But I started feeling really blue)
I was a sunken stone in a rolling river
(But I just couldn't go with the flow)

Though, I don’t regret
a single thing I've been.
Because the best part of imagination
is the only thing about it
that I don’t need to make up:

my mind.

Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, "It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice
To be the only bird in town."

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

Should I love clouds?
But they prevent me
From seeing the sun

I wonder how it'd feel like
To put my hands out
And touch one

Are they soft as cotton candy?
Birds love to dance in them
Or do they disappear at touch?
And fade into thin air?

I wonder what they see
When they look down at me
A heart of opal black
So pale compared to them
I wonder if they mock me
But what right do they have?
They travel on a journey
Of transient tragedy

And since I started writing
The clouds have moved along
They're indistinguishable from each other
Was this the one I saw?

The day is quickly fading
The clouds are not as glowing
The moon waxing and waning
The firmaments fade to black

But what about the sun?
For all its splendour is worth
By day the clouds conceal it
By night it's somewhere else

So, should I love clouds?
But they prevent me
From seeing the sun

Learn to love people; no matter what they say.
Learn to love people; they could be having a bad day.
Learn to love people; resist the temptation to fight back.
Learn to love people; many are suffering from lack.
Learn to love people; this is a command from God above.
Learn to love people; reach out and give someone a hug.
Learn to love people!
By, Author & Poet, Sandra Juanita Nailing

I bet her name is Lola.
After all, she fits the part,
all little girl, sweetheart,
bow in hair and storybook ringlets,
bouncing down the halls
on pretty shoes
that I would never wear.
I bet she places her small hand
on your arm when she flirts,
eyelashes ablaze
and head tilted,
inadvertently charming her way
into adulthood.
I bet her voice is sweet,
crackling with forced sexuality
as she melds childhood innocence
with the politics of growing up,
trying to get the best of both worlds
and almost succeeding.
I bet her wide smile falters
when she walks away,
as she realizes the impression she has made
and, too proud to turn back,
continues down the hall
feeling tall
and yet invisibly small,
little girl, sweetheart
in search of rebellion.
I watch her, and
I wonder what
her problem is.
I bet her name is Lola.

The only negative
to being so
blessed

is having so much
you could take
for granted.

Always be grateful,
humble, and
kind.

Release the burdens
of your
heart

and smile for all
you have or
have had.