On a sweet apple crisp cold day we walk
When the air is acrid with distant wood smoke
And bright Leaves fall with determination
Creating the season’s rich tapestry.
I run to keep up
Your science makes me grateful
For the rest
I notice still
My loose-mitted hand tentatively held out
To all manner of wonders that
My own hasty glances would have missed.
The stream, now
A sweet musty rug of russet rot,
Rambling with red and black fodder
For urgent little colonies of foragers
Who wait for wonders of the earth to be passed
There are days like this
To sip sweet tea from your flask
The ecstasy of the smallest thing
I’m grateful for the
calm winds of stoicism
exhaling from you.
He looked him dead in the eyes.
In his dead eyes, he looked at him.
“You are not helping, you are hurting.
You are not helping because you are hurting.”
A son to a father, as old lessons are taught.
A father to a son, as new lessons are lost.
I can't pen
As the best work of art
Beauty of you
You are beautiful
For grounded simplicity
Beauty doesn't define you
What is beautiful
All the difference
Theme: Beloved mother bonded
Writing this piece was a trouble,
says the story of a lovely couple.
A dinky apartment of 2 BHK.
Each day as lively as a flower in a freshly made bouquet.
First light was marked with peck.
Followed with looking for specs on the head.
Before the office came a hug,
that was addictive as a drug.
Their love moved the machine,
and so was their routine.
Today was no different,
For the going to be parent.
The peck, the spec, the hug and lunch.
All love showered in a bunch.
An extra kiss for the bump.
Promised to be back before the moon came up.
Had to return early,
to take her to the hospital securely.
The staff started to prepare.
Sat reciting a prayer.
That happiness was no lie,
when heard his baby girl cry.
Their eyes were full,
when saw their daughter beautiful.
Did it remind you of your partner?
wanting to be seen,
wanting to be heard.
all I've ever wondered,
all I've ever learned.
is that it's too much to ask for,
that it's too much to give.
why then do you take from me
in every hour of your need?
when he scares you
never expect an apology
after all, he didn't mean it
you're the one who's fragile
Shrewd enough to pick a purse
To feed a mouth sheltered under a rain of curse.
Empty bottles and opponent as partners
The fruit of a faint love
Now mine to pick.
Sleep and wake to the sour taste of poverty
Cure in the heart of men that walk the street
Too good to smile at the tartered shirt
Too quick to point our direction
Too heavy a baggage to carry
Too light the burden I offload
Ran back to my sheltered nest
Broken bottles and a red eyed woman
From whence I came
To this world of pain
Opponents as partners
The tattered shelter nature spared us
A smile on the little ones
My motivation to attract a pointing finger
My tatttered shelter - Opponents as partners.
There is pain on the street... a smile can save a soul
The struggles I had to face is something she wont go through!
No! Never! Not while I live , and definitely not under my watch.
THE CRY OF AN AFRICAN MOTHER
My daughter is a lawyer in the making.
She's intelligent, a doctor figure.
THE HOPE OF AN AFRICAN FATHER
Study hard baby
You'll take care of your sibling someday
and build us a better home.
THE PRAYER OF AN AFRICAN PARENT
Your good intent overshadowed by your failures and inabilities.
Genuine goodwill expressed in a confusing web of past decisions
Your way out shackles me to a prison wall painted in your dreams and wishes
I open my eyes to two options,
the wall of desolation and
the gateway of disrespect and ungratefulness .
I'd love to stay in these chains
enjoy the discomfort of your comfort.
but i cant!
I have a life to live
a destiny to realize
I cant live your dream
all the night you had to cry at nature's unfair gift of failure
could have turned to smiles and pride.
With the weapon of childbirth
You were assured a sweet revenge on nature
but the truth is...
all you have is an opportunity to be you
I'd love to be the doctor you long for.
**** to be a lawyer just to satisfy your thirst
What difference would it make
I get to be the doctor.... not you
I wear the wig ...... not you
You'd still be a slave to nature
and me, a prisoner to the horror of your past.
I cant live your dream
tho i dream of living the future you've planned for me,
all i wake up to is a pillow, a ***** sheet and REALITY!
I choose the gateway of disrespect
carrying along the tag of an ungrateful son
battling nature to the realization of my dreams
while staring at the Right to a wig and a stethoscope on the wall.
Hanging between those crafty wooden frame
is your key to vengeance
the crown of a wasted years chasing after your dream.
Sorry mom --- Sorry dad
I cant live your dream.
I Love You, I Hate You
I don't think I've ever told you this, but you are the person that stresses me out the most. I'll be all happy to visit you, until I talk to you for too long. You bring out my insecurities, you remind me of my imperfections, you remind me of what I'm missing, and what I lack. You know how to put me in the worst mood, but I forgive you every time. You were suppose to teach me how the world works, you were suppose to help me grow. You were suppose to protect me. The thing is... You make me depressed, you give me anxiety, I feel like I'm the one that has to be strong for you when you should have been there for me, THAT WAS MY JOB I WAS SUPPOSE TO BE THE CHILD, I WAS THE ONE THAT NEEDED LOVE, I WAS SUPPOSE TO MAKE FRIENDS, GO TO PROM, FIND MYSELF, YOU WERE SUPPOSE TO BE THE PARENT... but your just my.....
I forgive you....
I forgive you...