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Emily Nov 2018
Burning eyes.
Heavy eyelids.
Pounding head.
All indications of too little sleep.

Curious.
Relentless.
Won’t shut up.
All descriptions of my too active brain.

If only my brain were as determined to experience
Sleep for an entire night,
Instead of pondering age-old questions,
Such as what will tomorrow bring?

Unfortunately, I cannot convince my brilliant, yet misled, brain that:
Lack of sleep will just increase tomorrow’s challenges, and
Thinking about potential events cannot minimize that simple fact.

Oh where can I get a hamster wheel for my brain, so the rest of me can finally have peace and quiet in which to sleep?
Anya Oct 2018
I binge WAYYYYYY too much

During my obsession with strawberries
I ate a couple boxes a week
For a solid
Month
Or few

During by obsession with reading
Every ounce of my
Free time was
Devoted
To
Scouring
At least several
A week

During my obsession with drawing
The number of printer paper
Packages I ran through
Cannot be counted
And this lasted
Several years
Mind you

During by obsession with Chinese cuisine
I constantly pestered my family
To go there
On our weekly
Outings
For a solid
Couple years

During my obsession with vanilla covered chocolate popsicles
I ate one
Every day
For
At least
A month

During my obsession with pogo stick jumping

During my obsession with chocolate chip cookies

During my obsession with Asian light novels

During my obsession with strawberry black forest cake from that specific bakery

During my-

During my-

During-

Dur-

Yup.

It’s confirmed.

I
Am
A
Binger
I would like to make something.
Something for you and me.
Something creative.
An activity.
What would you say,
With a good description.
Would be your perfect,
Society depiction.
Make a fun,
Meaningful fiction.
Of your personal utopia.
A place,
Of a happy place affliction.
Try it out.
If I ever had five minutes to myself,
I’d get a book down from the shelf,
Curl up in the comfy chair
To enjoy the peace and quiet there.

I’d do my best to just ignore
Toys and games scattered across the floor,
Or the cobwebs dangling from the light
And the ***** dishes from last night.

I’d fight the urge to load the washing machine,
Then give the stove a perfunctory clean,
To fold and iron the clean laundry pile
Which has been mounting up for quite a while.

I’d remind myself I’ll go insane
Fixating on the grubby windowpane
And I’d warn myself that I simply must –
Not trail my fingertips through the dust.

I’ll keep a calm, composed demeanour,
Resisting the tug of the vacuum cleaner -
Because maybe if I ran it around the place
The house wouldn’t look quite such a disgrace?

To the sticky surfaces I’d turn a blind eye,
And that dodgy smell, which would seem to imply
That something, somewhere in the back of a cupboard
Highly likely in mould is now covered…

I’d disregard with gargantuan intent,
Cards and gifts which should have already been sent.
And school supplies which I ought to restock
Because they need glue and scissors around the clock…

I’d caution myself that I’m still a beginner,
At preparing a healthy, balanced dinner
And that sometimes meals go unplanned
Plucked from the remaining vestiges at hand.

I’d forget to berate myself that I don’t succeed
At tidying up at lightning speed,
Nor keeping my calm, nor staying unstressed,
When faced with an eight-year-old who just won’t get dressed.

I’d admonish myself that for my peace of mind
I must make more effort to relax and unwind,
To not grab some down time would be a mistake…
But – oh shucks – I must make that Birthday cake!

So I quietly replace the unopened tome,
Glancing around my disorderly home
And remember I am now a mother, a wife,
And reading books was in my past life.

But on the plus side I have giggles and smiles galore,
And tickles and snuggles and cuddles and more.
So I’ll try not to let the clutter and mess
Become a reason for concern and distress.

And instead of becoming a source of displeasure,
I’ll allow myself these short years to treasure
For soon the chaos and hubbub will abate
And I will have fewer things on my plate.

And who knows, in the future; maybe one day,
I’ll miss the turmoil and disarray?
As I’m reading my book, quiet in my chair
I’ll wish that my brood were once again there…
For all those who can relate to the busyness and pandemonium of daily family life…
Wellspring Feb 2018
Inactivity online,
Whilst it may be somewhat sad,
(For followers at least)
Means activity in life,
Which is surely a good thing.
Yeah. Bored. Back at school.
Sumit Ganguly Apr 2017
The God-man said,
'We think too much but feel and act too little.
To have peace, come to us and donate;
when you give, you get His bliss.'

The professor at Art College demonstrated
how brush strokes can change thoughts to feelings.
'We think too much but feel and act too little,
in all art forms, feeling is a diamond resting on thought.'

'Have you ever found someone like you,
who think too much but feel and act too little?
Idle people and psychopaths are victims of dry thoughts,
Come out of hibernation, feel and act'- once told my papa.

Now I'm out of frustration
and exchange activities for earning.
'We think too much but feel and act too little' is a proverb to me.
I don't have time to think but feel and act for my dependents only.

4th April, 2017
Shadow Paradox Sep 2015
"Mysterious reflections of a buzzing mind"
~

Musical notes unfold the edges of days
Colors stitched together
Collapsing in symmetrical branches
Tilting on sunlit leaves
Copper and crimson leaking from the crisp pleats

The world is dancing inside distance
Lost between the dusk of life
Yesterdays linked to endings
Swirling in chocolate cinnamon latte
Stripped in honey dreams

Shall I breath in sky fragments
Steaming from diamond blood
Stained on the fabric of enchantment

You can see dimensional forests
Reflecting from Indigo pupils

Curved inside the spiral of a pixilated soul
Carved in silver ribs
Spinning in fractal clavicles

There is a myth
Waiting . . .

Trimmed with tasty figments
Pressing itself into a prism

Go on

Touch the pulsing linear of this hive
Its alive like breathing braille
A tapestry of delicious language
Deciding
To be kind
For those in need
I gave money off hand.

But soon
I turned cruel
When many took my giving
A for granted rule!

Savory,
Spoils many
Soft money.
A comment given to the poem
"Interesting and timely. There is the reality that need
creates a condition of giving which encourages a
condition of need. And who exactly is the neediest - and
to what purpose? The conundrum has no answer and
can actually have a detrimental effect on those most willing to give - entreated at every turn in this modern
world by the outstretched hand, singular and corporate.
In consequence, the willing spirit becomes prey to a
undeserved feeling of cruelty by NOT giving for whatever reason. "M.C New Berry
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