"ringa" poems
i sometimes wonder why you still visit my mood swings,
left in abandoned playgrounds between my chest.
why you still visit even though the slides may only carry you down to somebody like me.
somebody difficult to love,
somebody who cannot tell the difference between crying and laughing anymore.
why you haven't left this soul,
who's bones can't seem to find enough strength to push my side of the sea saw,
who can't seem to move past three poles on the monkey bar,
simply because of the weight on top of my shoulders.
this flesh of complete brokeness that couldn't bare ringa ring rosie,
because at some point one gets tired of always falling.
i often wonder, why me.
why me, with all my chipped paint and countless dents.
why you still visit,
when this isn't the grass on other side that's greener.
because God knows,
i'd understand if you look for a park elsewhere.
a park worthy of you.
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
Sitting in this dark room, with my eyes closed
I feel a world,
the feeling is so lively, so beguiling, as this world slowly unfolds
Its a world where people don’t talk, but sing
Where people don’t walk but hop
Where people don’t fight for the spotlight
Where people greet each other with ringa-ringa-roses
Where bruises are cured by gentle fondles,
Where people cry laughing,
Where everybody is a proven man,
Where everybody is a lovely woman,
Where nobody fights with his own friend trying to win over him in his fight for the first
Where ego is only as real as satan,
Where god is seen and felt in every human being
Where money is just a piece of paper
Where religion is music and dance
Where peace is filled in air and is felt in every breath
Where strangers dance and sing together,
Where heart breaks are as sinful as ******
Where school is a place to learn what is life about
Where the teacher teaches how to live it fully
Where we are one with the universe and universe is one with us
Where one is no different from two and two is no different from three
And zero is as high as one-not-four
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
Ringa-Ringa-Roses!
Pocket Full Of Plastics!
Was Under Me - And -
The Bed Broke Down!
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC
I was never good at doing the hokey cokey
didn't know how to put one foot in
and one foot out and then turn it all around
Ringa a ringa Roses did not charm me much
as well
I was adverse to all these, Athishos we all fall down
they wouldn't even let me fall down on top of Misanne
my cute kindergarten girl-friend
Now the Grand ole Duke of York was something else
Why should I be marching up and down
and then neither up nor down
I told the teacher I wanted to play cowboys and Indians
She said I should get in Line
I rebelled about all these nonsense
No foot in, no falling down, no marching up and down
Let's play Chase and Kiss the Girls, I suggested
The two teachers sent me to go see Mother Superior
in the office
I asked Mother Superior why she was superior
as I'd kissed six girls behind the games room
so I am more superior
She gave me a note to take home to my Mum
Mummy said to stop kissing girls at school or I'll get germs
and die, and I won't go to heaven
I did not stop and kissed a lot of gals and liked it
twenty years down the line and countless girls in my wake
I discovered that adults do the hokey-pokey and a lot
of falling down and going up and down
And then just as I became a certified expert at this
Something happened and I was jolted into the realisation
that there are some bad people
who can mess things up
by
putting their oars in and their oars out
and shaking things all about
and athisho and you fall down
and then they march you up and march you down
and you are neither up nor down
But like all those years ago, I didn't like to play
So I sat down and watched them play
but there are no girls around to play chase kiss with
Well, I suppose I won't get germs now
and I'd be allowed in heaven...........
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 4:49 PM UTC