"treasures" poems
There once was a young man named Feste, and he was not a very good young man.
He was a thief, and a sneaky one at that. He would go to all of the stores in the market and steal anything that he pleased.
He loved to steal from the baker and the butcher especially.
He would go to his hiding place in the forest after his deviousness and eat away his stolen treasures, brooding on what a “clever little boy” he was.
The baker and the butcher knew though. They noticed him coming in most days and leaving in quite a hurry. They could not actually catch him in the act, but they knew beyond a doubt what he was doing. They were having drinks together one night though when they devised a clever scheme to stop him from stealing ever again. The butcher carved up a juicy ham, and the baker baked up a delicious pie, but they added a little something extra to it…
The butcher made sure to quite a bit of alcohol into the ham, and the baker did the same with his pie. They both set their two traps in the store, right when the spoiled thief Feste came strolling into the market with his eyes gleaming.
The baker watched him walk into his shop,the pie disappeared.
The butcher watched him walk into his shop, the ham disappeared.
They both smiled and went about their work.
Feste rushed to his hiding place and devoured his stolen goodies so fast that he didn’t even realize how peculiar it seemed to taste...
Not long after, he started to feel strange. Numb and stupid. He ran towards the village, acting a buffoon. The villagers stared and laughed at Feste acting so odd. His mother found him though and brought down the fury.
“Feste! Why are you acting like a **** fool?" She demanded.
He threw out a few words in a drunken stupor and swayed in place.
"Wait.. have you been drinking!?” She screamed.
“Noe maum! Allll Ie had todae is pie and haam!” He stammered in a drunken sway.
“And where exactly did you get those!?” She inquired.
Feste had a look of terror on his face and grew silent.
He was found out to be the no good thief and was punished severely, because his mother thought he stole the alcohol as well as the pie and ham, and he couldn’t prove otherwise.
Feste never stole again and he even apologized to the butcher and baker, though they still do have a laugh now and then…
The End
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
What a wonderful view to see
The flowers and the trees in serenity
The people and animals strive for prosperity
For peace, mans’ natures’ unity
All united for every body’s equity.
A creation of such wonder and beauty
The birds’ one and only sanctuary
A product of God’s power of infinity
There’s no other majestic than a tree.
It stood so still and tall
Its rustling leaves gave a melodious song
Like a lullaby from far home
That someone would always long.
But now, man is blinded by treasures and selfish thoughts,
And forgot the tree’s such true and noble worth
He destroyed nature and the idea of balance he seems to abort
He thought that maybe with treasures he will go forth,
But never for if Mother Nature revenge he will be caught.
Buildings, computers and other inventions
These were the things which caught mans’ attention
Trees and animals suffered from mans continuous exploitation
Nature provided everything, so why can’t man give a little appreciation
Cut here, chopped there, cut here, chopped there
What a pity the fate of the trees were
The forest was swept off, hectare by hectare,
What a fool man was to think he will prosper,
When the joy he felt now tomorrow will differ.
Deforestation and pollution product of man’s wrong action
Reforestation and sanitation, why don’t we practice these act of affection
Why destroy nature, for mans upcoming destruction?
Why don’t we love God creation for a better nation?
Flood storm and fire, a taste of revenge from nature
Catastrophes or calamities that strike and torture
These will all happen if nature is not given cure
A sign that doom will fall and it will be sure.
Soon people will suffer without pity
And nature’s answer will never be mercy
For if man continues to destroy the tree
Then it will be the end of the story
But it’s never too late for us people to change
Plant a tree and be aware
For today’s, tomorrow’s, children’s sake
Save the tree, Save the Nature, Save the Earth.
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 3:48 AM UTC
Behold Nigeria my motherland
A land that sits upon the hills of many waters
A country built on the ancient landmark of heroes band
An Eagle that protects her citizens in the arms of her feathers.
A beautiful Nigeria whose fields are as green as green could ever be
An Iroko that stands on the root of peace and unity
A fertile land that is as fertile as fertility can ever be
A united people, a proud nation void of segregation nor discrimination in her city.
My motherland a land that upholds the staff of dignity and natural endowment
A land of unity and peace glowing like a river of gold across the horizon
A nation that feeds on the diet of heavens supplement
An ocean that runs through the test of raging storms un-torn.
My motherland! My motherland!
A Nigeria that adores her women more highly than the Queen of England
An Olive that yields more than the cedars of Lebanon
A land whose daughters are as beautiful as the daughters of Job in Jerusalem's land
An independent country as powerful as the King Nebuchadnezar of Babylon.
It's Nigeria my motherland
A land that rests on the pillars of her freedom
A country seated on the pearls and treasures of many Ireland
A Nigeria that lives on the soil of heavens wisdom.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
I saw you in winter,
and thought of tree branches feathered by starlight in poorly lit neighborhoods. A hearth where the more honest parts of myself, I am bared fetal, warmed upon, welcomed.
I saw you in spring,
and thought of long drives in the countryside in the rain. Ice cream melting from our chins dancing petrichor upon our toes, kissing by the sea shore.
I saw you in summer,
and thought of sleepy boathouses, uncovering ancient childhood treasures in the woods. A secret lake somewhere, the sky's reflection in promise. Windy hilltops upon which to blame each other for the sunrise.
I saw you in autumn,
and thought of scarfs and cafes, city streets and sunsets where we watched each others breath escape. Apartment staircases where windchill hibernates, the world slowing down around us from your window.
The first time I saw You, I thought to myself, "I could live there."
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
Soft melodies of the deep sea echo
Moonlight dances on my pretty scales
And icy bubbles whirl under my chest
Through my slippery hair
And down into my lungs to clear the way for overflowing foam
Laughter splashes behind my lips as my anticipation rises
Waiting for a night of twisted fairy-tales and uncalled for surprises.
Shimmering bodies swarm in spirals
Grinding in unison with the waves crashing at the surface
We're anxious for overflowing foam and hidden treasures
Purple light pierces the dark like shards of crystals
Casting a ghostly shade on bulbous faces
Pressure rises as each wave surges
Whirlpools of hot breath suffocate our gills
But the sidelines are shallow
And stragglers float motionless
Hair like seaweed at the nape of his neck
Unbuttoned linen soaked and dripping
Her hollow eyes glow green
Like the jelly orbs of a fish under florescent lights
She’s pressed against a boy who has hooks for fins
Searching for the parts that are edible
Tender, Scale-less, Slippery
Nothing wrong with being the catch of the day
Right?
Bubbles rise and pop as the last melodies drown
Schools of us are begging for shiny hooks and bad decisions
A handsome boy has been smiling all the while
He’s caught in a fisherman’s net
Craving salty lips and the spell to make him a man
But fisherman don't care for little mermaids
With hearts like sea glass and no hidden treasures to steal
Sweaty fins splash and cheer
The fishbowl shatters
Sea glass spills out onto sand
We squirm and flop onto land
Gasping without air to breathe
As our mouths and ***** thoughts dry in the sun
Leaving behind fresh meat without mouths to feed.
Rainbow confetti was stuck in the grooves of my scales
Wet clothes left on the floor of a steamy bathroom
Gasping and moaning into tile
With the face of a handsome stranger
Because this meat shouldn't go to waste
And I'm drunken with desperation
For overflowing foam, jewels, and shiny hooks
But I'm just another fish in the sea
Tumbling in the waves with my rainbow confetti scales.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
tell me...
will tomorrow bring,
all the things
i'm longing...
stowed upon its elusive wings,
tirelessly beating
and fighting
to show what's dangling
and hanging...
ready for the picking...
awaiting...
such time so it could begin its need for unloading,
delivering
and dropping,
its gleaming
treasures
on those who are deserving,
in no way lacking
so they could be at the receiving
end of this pressurising,
inking
of dwindling
words...
careless thoughts conceived only to
fuel
my deranged ramblings...
incessant mutterings of a shattering
mind...
bending backwards, almost breaking,
risking...
the chance of ever fully
mending...
hoping and praying
for a sentence that's pending
dawn's approval...
allowing
the rising
of the sun...
paving
ways for thriving
wishes,
unbarring
gates for soaring
dreams, unlocking
latches,
relieving...
the heightening
anxieties of grieving
hearts.
constantly whispering
utterances, promising
good will, happiness
and titillating
sanity.
we're thinking...
the earth is spinning,
the moon is setting,
so the sun must be rising
but...
tell me,
tomorrow...
is it coming?
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
•
i wish
to infinitely
soar•in the highest
of skies•always higher,
and always more•held back by
the string that ties•i'd still welcome
hale air•as it blows stunningly
fresh•meets and carries my
body bare•bearing invi-
sible treasures in its
cache...•the errant
breeze i'd openly
fight•but i was
made with a
shoddy kit
•i'm fail-
ing and
falter-
ing...
like
a
k
i
t
e
•
wi
th
a
**
le
p
u
n
c
h
e
d
th
ru
it
...
•
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
White folks: pack your bags and go.
Our nut-brown world is quite offended.
Make your shame-faced exit NOW,
And leave your mansions unattended.
Wait—before you pass the doors,
It's time to settle ethnic scores.
No more ragtime Minstrel Show.
Our Moorish Science took it down.
Black lives matter. White, less so—
Now move your pale face out of town . . .
But first, shell out for racial shame
Caucasian losers of the game.
Cultural pride is ours alone:
Kings and Egyptian queens we were.
The glories of our race, well-known
Bedazzle in a darkened blur
(Clear to Africa's descendants—
Puzzling to you white dependents).
Blackness lent your world its light,
Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers.
Scandinavia grew bright
Under our beneficent powers.
Negroes gave your blondes their beauty;
Helped those Norsemen shake their *****
The Seven Wonders of the world:
We built them all. No vain conjecture
Dims our banner, black, unfurled,
Above eternal architecture.
Arts and knowledge gained from us
Are what we threaten to discuss.
We invented math and science
Which you robbed from Timbuktu.
Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance
Caused Old Europe to renew.
All our treasure that you plundered
Testifies: your days are numbered.
Classics of our Greeks you stole:
Philosophy was never yours.
Shame upon your racist soul;
For Bach and Mozart both were Moors.
Misappropriated treasures
call for ruthless hard-line measures.
Latino fate falls next—but, where ?
Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ?
Orientals everywhere:
Choose your side and join the fight.
Blackness rising! Late the hour;
Heed your call to fight the power.
Crackers need to check your race—
Stop rooting for that ****** clown.
Rednecks all up in our face;
Racist throwbacks got us down.
But as your statues bite the dust
Your light goes dark (you know it must).
So move on out, oppressor, thief.
Long have you held our nation back.
In some white galaxy seek relief—
But here the light itself is black.
Stars are racist. So is the sun.
Now let God's great black will be done.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
Whirlpool of whirling quaint
Inequality brewing in the
Winepress of smithereens
Fragile polity.
Voices of weariness cried
Out from the wasteyard of
Waste for succour,
Pointing fingers of
Recrimination towards
The abyss of drouth ,
Entangled in conflicts
Of interest.
Winds of improvised emblem
Bearing hunchback of
Woes,
Raising hands from the
Drowning deep sea
For rescue like
A dejected beautiful
Vigaro in a
Turbulent ocean of quarrel
With her spouse.
Whereas reddish fluids of life
Runs across the same veins
And arteries of haves
And haves-not but
Cottage of interests
Hoisting avalanche of
Rainbow-coloured flags
Standing aloof on the
Pole of misrule,
Demarcating their interests.
No accommodation for wants
In the corridor of affluence.
Wants on a trade mission
With wealthy but caged in
The confinement of wealth.
Winds of inequality blew
Whirler of wants into
The marrow of the
Haves-not.
Rains of inequality passing
Through a lockage of lack
Into the improvised,
Doling-out poverty to
Gain the control of
Wealth.
Alas! Blindness sees inner
Vision of darkness from
The households of political
lamia.
Alas! Deafness hears
Discordant vague voices
Of failure from the forest
of frustration.
Alas! Dumbness speaks
Language of gnomes out
Of the vale of forgotten
treasures.
Alas! A four year tenancy
turning into decades
of challenges.
But we shall revive our hope
and raise our voices
tomorrow.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
Kashmir Delirium
Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we,
For each act of benevolence shown to us.
Your gilded sweet words describing,
The beauty of Kasmir, land and people.
Mention in books and talks of it's riches,
Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth.
The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir,
Treasure of resources in every sphere.
To elevate each aspect, our wish for life,
As every acre of this land is worth millions.
Full of treasures and recreational value,
Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers.
The outside world's view is so limited,
Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty.
Mentioned in world forums and organizations,
But what of the goal of giving us freedom?
What has The UN established in our name?
To measure the pain and anguish we bear,
At the hands, of our supposed benefactors.
The saviours who has us fractured.
But in reality they train their enforcers,
In the art of creating oceans of tears.
The red blood now hidden in camouflage,
The spent shells now gathered and hidden.
The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams,
Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists.
Joint conferences to address personal interests
Dialogues that never address the root issues.
Just the formalities and no sympathy,
For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals.
The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated,
More augmentation of the security forces.
For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy,
Walk this land, you know as beautiful.
Religious leaders will teach you political artistry,
Sermons full of ambiguity and guile.
Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display,
Political apologists give great lessons.
Religion and religious ethnicity are tools,
That keep minds and bodies in total check.
Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb,
As promises are forgotten once office is obtained.
When writing of this succulent beautiful land,
Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices.
This land is being stripped of worldly treasures,
And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily.
The best of nation is the inhabitants,
Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
a flawless poem
if such there were,
will always be,
the next one
my poor soul,
my rag tag heart
has no censor,
so careless, reckless,
as if words were but
frivolous treasures,
easy spent, easy get
if only, how I wish I
could harvest my best,
with golden cutlery excise
the single flawless poem,
that I know in my possess
lay down this hand so weary
from cupping tears,
be satisfied at long last,
so much so,
that my casket lowered,
hands in repose companioned,
clutching his best, easing his rest,
a paper record to join his ash,
his flawless poem,
at long last
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 6:53 AM UTC
drenched in a sea of waveforms,
dancing on the ebb of a digital ocean
its crests crowned with sound
pitched upon amplitude tides
their volume compressed;
reverberating through glass speakers
mere dots in the sands
i hear cadence...
within the music of your speech
how can it be,
such a many word
written,
yet forgotten,
indelibly on your beach?
if we could interpret the oceans
what stories would its sea speak?
of its corruption?
treasures unreturned
to lost and found?
or of its time to give up the dead,
or of the angels that fell to its ground?
© Qwey.ku
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 5:42 AM UTC
#
*if you are the ocean
then I am the mist
that kisses the morning
the way I’d want
to be kissed
if you are the ocean
then anchors aweigh
we'll sail through the evening
and on to the light
the daystar is dawning
we'll keep to the right
like Peter and Wendy
to Neverlands' door
we'll sail on forever
and touch every shore
if you are the ocean,
come wash me away
to some misty morning
and there we will play
if you are the ocean,
then sing me a song
of sailors and treasures
and places long gone
if you are the ocean
come wash me away
to a place, together we’ll
forever stay...*
#
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 6:05 AM UTC
***That Night by the ocean
The waves sung me a lullaby
Of palm tree silhouettes
And tropical sunsets
Of singing waves
And gritty white sand
Of lemonade sipped on the shore
Of nocturnal ukuleles singing a melody
Of sandy flip-flops left on the sand
Of little ocean seashells
And ocean treasures beneath the waves
Of hibiscus blossoms in bloom
Of tropical fruits
Of salty breezes stirring my brown hair
Of tropical Nights
And on and on their lullaby went
And hushed me to sleep***
~Marian~
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
We wander, we wander,
By moonlight, I ponder,
Whilst sailing my ship towards that shimmering star!
How we who are pirates, so willingly wander, both hither and yonder, no matter how far…
Methinks to myself, “Not a bad life to lead, no longer a slave to the land like before…
The wind at my back, so utterly freed, to seek out adventures, on any fair shore!”
“Why do it?” Methinks, as I stand on the prou, the breeze on my face, lightly tossing my locks,
For any a man would be called crazy now, for braving the sharks, and starvation, and pox!
Is it the gold, that calls me to sea? Where hurricanes howl, and sturdy sails rend!
Or is it the freedom that calls out to me, and gold is not more than a means to an end?
For me, ti’s the freedom, to do what I love, to sail by the light of the stars up above, And stand on my deck, under moonlight, to ponder, how we are those pirates who willingly wander…
My ship, a fine lady, a handsome thing too, a good set of guns with a competent crew, her holds full of treasures, and finest apperal, and row upon row of *** by the barrel!
So drink in the morning, and drink in the evening, and I would be lying if I didn’t say, We guzzle the *** from dusk until dawn, and me-thinks I’ll be sipping it all through the day!
Then we dance on the deck, for the music is playin, the chilly night breeze has our ship gently swayin,
And off once again, for we willingly wander, “But why?” Says I, as by moonlight I ponder…
Wouldn’t we like to at some place belong? Would dropping our anchor for ever be wrong?
Perhaps there’s a place with a temperate climate, and someone to care for a salty old pirate?
But till that day comes, I shal willingly wander, and whilst I’m the captain, by moonlight I’ll ponder…
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
In the night, those shadows come alive. So little do i know about this heavy doubt.
Cold wind biting the heart. Trying to figure out where I've been.
Dark winter pulls me closer, now theres a place i'm thinking into the air.
A voice calling, "Who knows but that which seems omitted today, waits for tomorrow?"
Nothing is as it seams, just as beauty leans from the earth in a sunset--a harp for the soul to sing.
But You are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at her self
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
And if you want to know truth retire of solving riddles.
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way,
begin no day where we have ended another day;
and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us.
Even while the earth sleeps we travel,
back into dreams.
Ay, my bow rests on my chest.
There is the flame spirit among a starry mountainside.
Oh it was but yesterday we met in a dream. You watched as I built a ship towards your shore.
My spirit goes wandering upon the wind, off to the desert sands, deep beneath the ocean's sound.
I am the gypsey and the fortuneteller, liken an honest thief. No I'm the myth builder and dream master.
who laughs with me when I destroy,
the sand castles of my innocence. The
sun warming my back just as the wicked, and drawing my image locked in a shadow.
Here the soul a battlefield, where
reason and passion become one.
they are the sails of my seafaring soul.
There I found the naked body of my dreams, in silent sleep my spriit walked the path.
I am the star-gazer who feels the power of endlessness, Aware of timelessness and
neverending space. The love in me still
present amidst the scattered fires that
burn in black ink.
Just as the caveman draws his fears on lost walls, speaking of misfortune and
treasures gallore. A fantom ghost in Hade's Fate.
Now my ship wanders forever on a pearlous course but never sinking.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:47 AM UTC
The soil brings forth precious gifts, not tainted by mankind
But we choose to poison them, to me that is a crime
Anything is justified when profit is involved
But food should not be business because food is life for all
Faster, cheaper, longer lasting; all these things sound great
But the truth is most of what we eat is far from food and fake
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
I. The Mermaid
I am six years old,
and I am obsessed with Ariel
from The Little Mermaid--
she is, by far,
my favourite Disney Princess.
I want to be exactly like her--
hair billowing in red swirls
around a heart-shaped face
and eyes so blue they put the very
ocean to shame
(my sister has blue eyes too, you know,
and, to this day, I still envy her,
for her eyes are the loveliest
characteristic of her Beauty--
and believe me, there are many);
purple clam shells vibrant
against porcelain-doll skin
and fully blossomed *******
(in three years from now,
I will begin
to grow *****
elementary-school style,
over-ripe.
B Cups going on C cups
fated to become D Cups,
plum-sized
in comparison to the
budding mosquito bites of
my fellow classmates.
Barely a child,
womanhood threatens
to sexualize my girlish body
before I truly know
what sexualization is);
fins cutting through the water
gracefully in all their
green, iridescent glory
(little did I know that,
as I grew older,
"cutting" would adopt
a far more sinister meaning
in the context of my life).
But,
despite my admiration for Ariel,
I fail to understand her desire
to abandon her
under-sea rendezvous,
sunken treasures,
oceanic melodies to
"be where the people are."
This lack of approval I foster
exists due to the fact that I am
a firm believer of the magic
the aquatic realm (and Disney)
has to offer.
To this day,
I continue to maintain my stance--
that Ariel had been terribly wrong
in the choices she made--
but I have become cognizant of
different (and better) reasons
to argue my position;
after all,
and as a cartoon crab
had so wisely declared once,
"The human world--
it's a mess."
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 10:29 PM UTC
Small town,
starry night,
the playback of old times on vinyl,
small town had our dreams,
osiers standing silently,
along the causeway,
seeing shadows of days gone by,
against the wind,
memories of the small town,
bright and luminous like pearls,
small town has changed,
dreamers no longer dreaming,
laughter and tears demised,
and became our own treasures,
walking in this city,
you can go back to a lot of places,
but you can’t ever go back,
to the days of yore,
of the small town.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
I chose to hide,
Behind my veil.
In my safe home,
My existence frail.
My identity and my honour,
My own choice to preserve.
Hiding within my soul,
Modesty that i reserve.
Eyeing this dusty world,
Lost treasures of faith
seven virtues for world,
Veil for me is eighth.
Proud of my identity,
happy on my choice.
This is what i am,
Hijab is my voice.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
mementos
richly held
hidden in
fractured chest
big people
shifting boxes
heavy
light
silenced
a child's fissure
clasping favourite shell
close
swift salvage
in tight world
rescue from
gaping hole
#family #disruption #moving #treasures #mementos #lost #ignored
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
There's something about the ever-moving sea,
Whose shimmering waves brighten every face,
Whose calming sounds bring joy to every ear that hears
There's something about the forever changing beach,
Whose soft sand holds treasures from the deep blue,
Whose sparkling granules clump together to create vast castles
There's something about the ongoing sky,
Whose blue tints are home to the warm, shining sun,
Whose colors magnify themselves onto the gorgeous sea
So look upon this picture and smile,
Because each figure is a piece of a puzzle,
Forming a complex but brilliant masterpiece.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
It was early nineteen thirty four
The world was set to change
Europe was on fire
It was time to rearrange
Poland was the first stop
The German Army on the move
So we left for America
I hope you did approve
You came with me to Jersey
On a trip across the sea
You've guarded all my secrets
Known by only you and me
You used to spin quite gaily
Now you just stand there en pointe
You're my clipped wing little angel
That's the name I shall anoint
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Dance your dance for me
We've been together eighty years
You are who I want to be
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Just one more pirouette
We've been together all this time
Our dancing's not done yet
I sit here and remember
All the treasures you once hid
You've still some trinkets in there
Some from when I was a kid
Your tu tu is all tattered
The silk lining frayed and torn
But, you've held together nicely
But, I guess we're both quite worn
Your lipstick isn't red now
I hear your music in my head
It hasn't played for 50 years
I just remember it instead
The music gave up playing
You were slightly over wound
But, you still twirled and kept dancing
Even though there was no sound
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Dance your dance for me
We've been together eighty years
You are who I want to be
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Just one more pirouette
We've been together all this time
Our dancing's not done yet
I've told you more than anyone
Than I have ever known
We've been together now forever
You're the most precious thing I own
You've been with me for two husbands
And you've seen my kids pass on
There's just me and you, my dancing girl
All the rest of them are gone
Your paint is chipped and cracked
Your pony tail is broken too
If I still can recollect now
In the fall of fifty two
Your spring is rusted tightly
You need a hand to stand up right
But, then again, I do as well
And most days it's quite the fight
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Dance your dance for me
We've been together eighty years
You are who I want to be
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Just one more pirouette
We've been together all this time
Our dancing's not done yet
Charms and little trinkets
Plastic jewellery, real as well
Secrets of a child
Secrets you would never tell
I am now moving to December
Of my calendar of years
Soon my life will end and
There's no one left to shed me tears
I sit here and I wonder
What shall become of you
My Thumbelina Ballerina
In your dancing dress of blue
You started as a music box
You are not used as that no more
But, Thumbelina Ballerina
Will you dance for me once more?
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Dance your dance for me
We've been together eighty years
You are who I want to be
Thumbelina, Ballerina
Just one more pirouette
We've been together all this time
Our dancing's not done yet
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
If I could
pinpoint the
exact moment
your breath
touched mine
washed me over
in ocean waves
sea creatures glowing
in delightful recognition
as the seedlings
of connection
shimmied into our being
and, dancing within me
in its own lifeforce
your mind a living,
breathing animal
your heart, purring
and whirring its sacred forces
into my molecular structures
your soul throbbing
in mitochondric pulsing
(*oh what
a delicious vibration
of ribosomes*)
Between us, we hold
the true treasures
close, in frothy
tenderness
a purity of the expanse
of our universe,
swathed in prismatic color
colors that shift,
these fresh hues
for which there are no name
they are lucid and fine-woven
as silk histories
yet deep as earthcore
your eyes, voice
are forever burned
into my own
every day scriptures
that rock my shattered parts
into wholeness
and,
like ancient magic,
I conjure forth
the holy gospel
rising from our bones
every second of
every minute
as our deepest fires
our most secret filth
our murky corners
our darkest hours
we weave into light
brilliant and lustrous
multi-layered in the richest
folds of the earth
and as you place me
upon the shores
of your garland-graced
throne
Now I'm alive in a new
kind of light
and
all I can do
is love
and love
and love
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 5:23 PM UTC
Death, sweet Death, beckons to me.
He is a lighthouse, warning most to avoid his realm
But He calls me by my name
He tells me to be dead is the greatest gift Life has to offer
And whispers of the secret joys of His hazy oblivion.
"Come my child and partake of my treasures," and
"Your troubles shall cease even as your spirit roams," are His entreaties.
At first His voice is as soft as the waves lapping at the shore
But as I ignore him his call becomes
louder
Louder
LOUDER
Than the squall of a maelstrom
Until He is all I hear
His voice dries up the Happiness fed by
Hope, who is a frightened dove.
And when Hope ceases to feed you in the morning and in the the evening, then
"Elijah, you are alone."
So
End Life to escape from Death.
Cast off your body and dwell with Him.
Death is the light in the lighthouse.
Choose that light
Choose darkness.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC