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Qweyku Jan 30
'Practice makes perfect' is a Damoclesian carrot fastened with erudite string.

Its bite mentally drops.

Practice is the whetstone of preparation.


Perfecting, the work of The Spirit.

© Qwey.ku 2023
2 Samuel 22:33 / Galatians 3:3 / Ephesians 4:13
The Lord Holy Spirit is a refiner honing the beauty of His Word seeded in us, unsheathing the sword of truth.
Man Feb 2021
how do you get a boilover?
you can turn up the heat
add more water
or increase the pressure

of course, you're using a melting ***
so there might be some difference
in how much you'd need of each, respectively

no past recipe can really offer preparation
the water's not the same
the temperatures' change
and pressure varies wildly
from kitchen to kitchen
Kristin Oct 2020
Autumn wants attention today
as she tosses leaves
into cool, crisp air

Autumn wants attention today
as my flip flops are thrown
off my porch
into a pile of crunchy leaves

There is a chill 
It makes me awake, more prescient

There is a chill
Have I prepared?

Autumn wants attention today
as she tosses what's no longer needed aside
Damien Jun 2020
Sometimes it’s stressful
when I’m unprepared
and nervous, because
I fear they might think
I’m not doing my job.
But when I feel good
having put in work
and seeing it all
pay off, I feel
amazed at
the fear
that no
Asominate Mar 2020
Finders keepers,
Losers weepers.
You're the prey
And I'm the seeker.

Hunt you down,
Leave you in pieces,
Hold me back
I really need this!
Me, mentally preparing for my nightmares like
Jay M Feb 2020
For my love I have a plan
So much to do - oh man
This plan so grand
For so long I have planned -
Now to spill
Oh, what a thrill!

So much to do
And all for you
My love, I don’t mind
But oh time I’m not sure I can find
Ah, oh well!
All shall be swell!
After all, it is for you that I fell.

First I must clean the house;
I must sweep the downstairs,
My anxiety I must dowse
Oh but who cares

I must sweep the porch and walkway,
Tell him, “Come, go this way!”
No dust at his feet
Take him inside and from the heat

I must clean the table,
Oh I hope I am able
Make sure on my feet I’m not unstable
Oh my dizzy spells
Are tiny hells

I must clean the placemats,
Shoo away the pesky cats
Little things get their fur everywhere
Oh but who gives a care

I must clear the clutter from the piano,
Think of my friend the soprano
She’s a good singer
But slow to answer her ringer

Then I must decorate;
Oh this house no one shall hate
Besides I, I suppose
Oh, I think I’ll give him a rose!

I must put the carpetes on the piano,
Nevermind the soprano
What a voice
On the carpetes I can put flowers or candles
With no handles
Oh what a choice!

I must place the smooth stones and flowers in the walkway,
Make them say, “Hey, come this way!”
Inviting him in
Oh, his heart I did win
This is a celebration of my love
Just for my Love

I must place the stool by the door,
Place his card on it and oh not the floor
Hope he likes it and keeps it
Hope he knows I am of wit

I must put the ribbon downstairs,
I don’t know if he cares
But I certainly do
Oh Love, I do this all for you

Next I must cook and bake;
I must make the steak,
Get the recipe from my stepdad
Oh I sure hope he’s glad
I can make this myself
And have a picture on the shelf

I must make the mashed potatoes,
No, I won’t touch the tomatoes
Those are for next week
Not my dinner to cook
I’m not that weak
I can be a good cook

I must bake the brownies,
They say you can smell them for counties
I hope they taste sweet
And not like feet

Finally I must get myself ready;
I must shower, clean my hair and body,
So I’m not still plastered with sweat
Oh and I bet
You’ll just look so good
Just like I know you would

I must wear something nice,
No, it will not be of high price
If it were I would leave it hanging
Like the photographs overhanging
In my room
Where roses bloom

I must do something with my hair,
Not that anyone would care
None but I
Still I try

I must put my lotion on,
This cracked flesh it must go upon
To heal me
Of this eczema I wish to be free

After all that;
I will give my arm a pat
An indication for him to take it
This great planning a display of my wit
I shall walk him to the door
Read him the card then read no more

Escort him inside
The dogs both aside
Have him pick a seat
While ready is the potatoes and tender meat
To be served
I supposed I would be observed
As I bring him a plate
Oh this is so great!

Ask him if he would like a drink
Once poured, our glasses will clink
A sign of good fortune and luck
And as I gaze into those eyes, I am lovestruck

We shall dine
Oh this heart of mine
Beating loudly in its cage
As tonight I have taken center stage
And brought all the light just for my Love

After we dine,
After I gaze into those eyes divine,
I bring out dessert
It won’t be too hot, so it won’t hurt

Once dessert is through
I’ll look to you
And ask what you would like to do

A movie, perhaps?
Seated side by side, a blanket on our laps
My hand in yours
Holding me, this ensures
My mind may wander
Oh the things that silently ponder
Whilst I am by your side.

- Jay M
January 30th, 2020
I wrote this in my Creative Writing class on Thursday. It's a ballad, and I had fun writing it.
Makenzie Marie Oct 2019
I’m the queen of overthinking so you have to know that I’m overthinking things each night that goes by, afraid that you must have, or will, changed your mind.
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
and preparing myself
to experience
my body becoming older
and my ******-functions diminishing
towards death
brings me peace of mind.
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
that my body will probably become sick
into the future,
and preparing myself
to experience the sickness
and improve my health,
brings me peace of mind.
Nigdaw Jul 2019
Bread from waxed paper packet
a childhood memory of mum making tea
snow white, thick sliced
fringed with a brown crust
comfortingly heavy, ****** smelling
the butter pleases me
covered under the tub lid
with a coated paper peeled back
to reveal a thick golden slab of
churned cream easily spread, cold
straight from the fridge onto waiting
fibrous surface, allowing it to sink in
cheese in a yellow block, related to
the butter in so many ways, dairy
a long lost brother, sliced thick with
a proper knife with the pointed curved
tip, designed to ***** and pick up
each slice, placing carefully on the bed
prepared for it to rest, ready for the final
ochre coloured element, mustard, from
a glass jar using a teaspoon, to dollop
before resting a second buttered slice
on top to make a creation, a taste sensation
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