“Hello, how do you do?”
It’s a question we ask every day.
As rehearsed, we answer: “Fine.”
It’s what we have been taught to say.
Month: February 2018
Plague
Some people have this ability to make you feel,
Shaken, coughing, snotty, and altogether ill.
I’ve met them before, and I know you have as well,
For though I know it’s rude to say, you simply don’t look swell.
These people are an illness, and, darling, here’s the cure,
Don’t let them into house and home, don’t give in to their allure.
Shut the door in their face, don’t bother to be politely vague,
Or this simply cold, you’re struggling with, will turn into the plague.
A Gift of Oneness
A/N: Another lovely poem I thought I’d share with you guys via A Gift of Oneness
You Won’t Find Anything Down There
A/N: Just found this poem that I thought was awesome – reminded me of Nancy Drew – and I figured that I would share it with you guys via You Won’t Find Anything Down There
I’ve Learned
Ten years old,
I’ve learned how to tie my shoes.
Twenty years old,
I’ve learned how I like my booze.
Thirty years old,
I’ve learned to get up and go to work.
Forty years old,
I’ve learned to appreciate my quirks.
Fifty years old,
I’ve learned my kids are now adults,
Sixty years old,
I’ve learned to ignore the world’s insults.
Seventy years old,
I’ve learned how much a person I can miss.
Eighty years old,
I’ve learned how precious time here is.
Rose
A/N: I thought it would be funny to write a poem where someone was compared with a rose but in a bad way. And somehow, this came out.
He often tells me that his love is like a rose.
And I think “No kidding, boy, you sure hit it on the nose”.
Sure, she’s pretty and she smells so lovely too.
But her personality is her thorns, that vengeful, spiteful shrew.
Words
We talked.
You seemed unflawed.
We whispered.
Words of Love.
We yelled.
Hateful things.
Now there’s silence.
As yelling brings.
Closing His Eyes
He closes his eyes,
And there he is.
An Amazonian treasure hunt.
He closes his eyes,
And there he is.
A hero on the battlefront.
He closes his eyes,
And there he is.
Travelling to the great Bombay.
He opens his eyes,
And now he’s back.
In the classroom, dull and grey.
Blue & Pink
It’s kind of funny.
If you stop and just think.
Why do boys equal blue?
And girls equal pink?
Why did we decide so?
Such as odd thing to say.
That blue makes a tomboy.
While pink makes you gay.
Birthday
Perhaps your childhood ends.
I mean truly, really Ends.
With a large, capital E.
When you no longer celebrate
The day you were born.
But instead, you flee.
mariasjostrand 