Ordinary buts

The world of ordinary buts

the girl in the jumper, NOW CAUGHT IN  a suit

the one we all knew, now a full grown monster

the children we played with, now and proud snubby

somewhere lost within, a child screams for help

we grew up, but didnt grow well

we grew to know

but didnt grow right

didnt know right

Parched Sands

A dry and thirsty land

Famished, yet within the same nation some drown for plenty

And others die of lack

“Water” screams the parched sands

“Moisture” shouts the plants

But instead the land is fed with blood

The blood of vengeance, blood of pain

The land is fed with blood

And the plants refuse to drink

The ground is fed with blood and the clouds refuse to shower,

the farmers pray for water

But the blood of the dead overshadows this cry

The plea for vengeance bellows louder with every kill

For every life taken, stolen for every bomb planted to grasp life away

The blood of each person seals

 The fate of our rain, our lives as we know it

So dryness becomes dryer

And hunger sets in

The wind of death blows with stagnation and dryness.

The best thing this year!

It is the end of another school year

Full of mindless long days and cold nights

of scaring redium and ennui

I take those final steps to a much deserved break

But before I skip gaily away from it all

I take a retroscpective glanc e over my shoulder

good and bad memories all muddled up,

the good like paint stains on a blank canvas

some sharply contrasting and others barely  there

the bad like wounds on a war veteran

some leaving mere bruises and others deep scars,

and like harvesting a cereal field

some memories stick;  you can’t help but take them along

others you pick yourself and hold on to

you clucth like lucky charms you hold on to

to help you through those inevitable dark and and stormy times

 

Lots of cake and sandwiches and punch

moments playing games and scribbling and drooling

talking, smiling, laughing, working,

I sift through these like I would with pictures,

of all thesee moments a few stand out

these selected few have I constant,

that constant isn”t  X — it’s  U … get it?

your bright smile, always jsut below the surface

your ebullient laughter, infectious and genuine 

your ingenuity, hard to overlook,

your beautiful face, always beaming 

If  I could relive this year

I  would read a lot more play alot less,

sleep a lot more and sulk a lot less,

but I’d still meet you- That”ll be my perfect  year

No word, no phrase  no treatise, no speech

is profound enough to express my urge to see, you smile

these ones for want of better ones, should suffice ,

and I will stand on every curb with a loudspeaker and shout

“You   are  the  best thing that  happend to me this  year!”