Point them; flex them;
Point them; flex them;
Put them in your
Lap, lap, lap.
She was my mentor
My first teacher
I knew her.
Or did I?
ballet was short.
Then I met her again
This was the last time
she would be my friend.
she would become my enemy.
I would see her now and again
each time, getting more and more
fire up and down my veins.
Until one day,
the last day,
that was it.
A simple hello
sent tears rushing
down my face.
Never has a simple
greeting been more empty.
Never have your words stung so deep.
Never will they again.
a cup of coffee
and a smile
on her face
even when exhausted
coffee in hand
and in studio
willing to love all
who comes her way
Inspired and In the Style of "Sam's World" by Sam Cornish
there's said to be some merit in me
and there's something to be said about mine
but please never let it be taught
and please never have it headlined
that I've ever done any of this
but with measured and deliberate thought
or time consuming and considered design
none of this comes easy
little of this goes smooth
we all think ourselves imposters
but some have pushed through
so whatever doubts you're having
however steep the climb
take the chances you're offered
and give yourself some time.
No amount of guilt can resurrect the past and for some that past is still a future
still there is an innocence in the thought of sowing a piece of oneself in life
but I’ve learned we are not remembered we are not remembered for our changing seasons or for the gifts we bring
no , we are not remembered for our perfections
it’s the imperfections that leave a fingerprint
a fingerprint sowed into the veins of life pumping and shaping the vessels of our memory
we are not remembered by those who do not remember themselves
we are remembered by our morals and actions ,for the way we drowned with air in our lungs
we are remembered for trying to leave a little piece of ourselves in the lives of others
as a parent, a friend ,a tutor ,a sister and a child
for the unbending ,heartfelt , seer-willed deeds of someone untamed of life only caged by the deeds of others
You ,pained by your memories and the vessels sowed in your place ,stuck questioning your loss of the unknown when you realise what you lost was yourself
your sorrow and entrapment will fade away and your shell will remain
that little piece of a perfectly , imperfect , fading smile imprinted into my life
and now that you don’t have to be perfect anymore
you can be remembered
This poem id dedicated to someone in my life who has passed away , someone who made an impact in my life and i will always remember her for how strong she was even if the world tried to break her.
you are the one my heart is tethered to.
not a lover, nor a friend, but my guardian angel.
a spark in the coldest of nights.
my laugh on the darkest of days.
my non-romantic soulmate in every which way.
you don’t cower at my scars.
nor cry when it gets dark.
you never forget to remind me that life is all but sparse.
“so write me a song”
you say it so proud.
fly angel, fly. soar through the sky.
i hope when we meet again, both our suns will shine.
sending my inky love and darkest of hearts.
for my wonderful little angel who saved me from the dark.
so this poem is about my teacher. him and i have a really nice connection (completely platonic and in no way ****** might i add) and we talk about a lot of stuff and i've come to view him as sort of an emotional support animal haha. but in all seriousness, he has really become my guardian angel and i have no clue how ive lived without him in my life for such a long time. he literally bought me a coffee the other day, like he's such a nice guy man. this is basically a teacher appreciation poem. i literally cannot imagine what my life would look like without him. he was the one that noticed i was depressed and is the sole reason i ended up getting some help for it. he's just a funny, good-natured and lovely man who has become like a second father to me and i have plenty of room in my heart for him. one day i will tell him so.
Yes Dada! I realize I am nothing but I live in ignorance.
I need Thy grace.
I need God's Grace to be liberated from this ignorance.
Without you my Guru, what would I be?
Continue to lead me,
my dear Master to the one reality.
Continue to guide me.
Continue to bless me.
I need you. I can't do without you.
I Love you.
I am nothing.
I know! I realize.
And I realize I don't know what I know.
Only you can make me realize this by opening my 'real eyes',
My Guru, my Mentor, my God on Earth
gone too soon—
you have lived all your life
making others happy.
now that I think about it
what a selfless person you are
always putting others needs before yours
you believed in me
more than i ever believed in myself
you were the one
who pushed me to reach my full potential
i wouldn't be the person i am today
and still be the shy girl I used to be
if I didn’t have you in my life
i thank you for everything
you’re in a good place now
and you will surely be missed.
because i am upset
and since when has writing become a form
of exploitation of the human condition
this will all be over soon
over? can that be replaced by fixed?
i don't want it to be over
i want my expectations to become real
i don't want you to go
that steady decline you've been in
you made me hope for too many things
we talked about
starting a business
suceeding in business
starting a charity
we planned out
your new house with a swimming pool
you said you'd give me away
watch whether i decide
to be a stay at home parent
or pursue a career
you're still convincing me
to take on a responsibility im not yet ready for
i need you...i still
want to need you
to be my support
at some point i'm not so certain
of my intentions
i met you
i was taught
above all else
all i had disappeared
i met you
what was convenient
invisible to myself
less than what was due
does it stop there?
maybe you taught me
the better part of me
maybe you showed me
the other side of things
but there is so much more
to hope for now
the just will have a cause
worth fighting for
things are at an end
all these will be done
it shall be finished soon enough
when I ask myself
what I am
I am not sure I know the answer
a ‚mature‘ man
of 70 plus
of 11 grandchildren
person of authority
mentor for young ones
still looking for themselves
all of the above
or none of it
in the end only those
who read these lines