self disgust
and disappointment
for the slip-up
but I need to know
what cheapens intimacy
devaluing myself
devalues anyone
with whom I
would share something
valuable
it's why
I'm detoxing from
all these dopamine pumps
and anesthestics
(gambling and alcohol)
how could online "intimacy"
not be included in
the mix that
keeps me from
feeling
all must go
until this backlog
can be managed
“Honey, tomorrow is Allen’s baseball competition. Please, he needs you to be there. You know how hard he’s been practising for it. He'll be so excited to have you around.”
“Oh! Honey, if only time would be for sale. I'd buy it for a reasonable price. I have a backlog of work to do. I'm hunting for balance.”
“Oh! Dear. The kids need you as much as they need me. You have to create time for them. Find a space for them. You remember how distraught Karen was when you didn’t make it for her ballet competition.”
“Oh! Lauren, all I'm doing is for the family. Very soon I'll be on my own then we can go for a vacation anywhere in the world.”
“Oh! Honey. Please.”
“Ok. I'll be there. I'll postpone all my engagements for tomorrow.”
“Oh! Thank you, dear. Allen will be overjoyed.”
December 11, 2022.
I turn off the alarm.
6 o'clock.
Tired shoulders.
Stomach grumbling.
I turn over on the bed.
Long day ahead.
Deadlines, backlog.
You enter our room, my heart skips a beat.
You...
You.
I smile,
Stretch my arms,
And get up.
Kristina Lim
December 10, 2021
Imus, Cavite, Philippines
Our vicar says prayer is the best
Our doctor says pills pass the test
The Powerball
Is no cure-all
But its way ahead of the rest!
Throughout the ages an aching sigh,
dispersed by waves on rabid seas which only splutter,
swept up by gusts that mask a cry which disappears
across the nettle voids,
this raw dispatch of fatal wound backlog,
atonal antiphon amok,
a caution light epistle
back in time to be quenched by secret language never heard.
The backlog of time charts an aspiring future on the way
Scrolls back into memories lighting the path
Backstreets of remembrance embrace tantamount change
Rewind foundations towards a sweet novel journey
Back to Earth - Back to the Future - Backstage of Time
Rewriting the story - Reliving a dream - Reclaiming the Past
Background scripts mellow the nib of pen’s darkest pain
Invite smudges and scratches to assemble the trek
Backdrops entertain recesses shelter foundations of truth
Frame the here and now whence there and then
A tear for a tear and a smile for a twinkle
In the back of beyond awaits the henceforth
14th May 2019
Your mirror is
Within you,
See the truth.
No strategy
Is on work.
Nowhere find
Hiding place.
Secret is always
The secret,
No use
Me Too.
Backlog cases
Pending since long
Only for you
Every school holiday really matters
Students find relief and welome the break
It's feeder road to planning for teachers
For better cognitive skills for their sake
Some parents fear they'd be dawdling around
And are mortified of what the'll do
Unfaithfull friends they may have found
In some wrongs they may be clogged through
But they know how to make time sublime
In winter they love hybernation
They may read or net surf for film
Or try PC games or playstation
Some students go trekking on ramps
Or for leadership training sessions
Night, they're spilling giggles in camps
And share jokes free from restrictions
Summer also has unique delights
Parks and beaches are very pleasing
Day they make trips but fight tedious nights
There's no moan and no belly aching
Some others take studies seriously
And catch up with the backlog of lessons
So they get involved in tuition quite deeply
As they are always in competition
Yet, there's no place like home for holidays
They do house chores humming with a smile
No place can beat sweet home on free days
They rest and still do something worthwhile
Back to four a day, how's about that
Reduced my backlog, clearing the stack
Needed to slow down
Or breaketh my crown
So damn prolific, hope my brain didn't crack
A dog and a frog
(with the names of Bull)
sit on a log
abutting a synagogue
drinking eggnog
until they are full
Suddenly agog
(by a fog in their bog
that makes them slog
like a cog
when they jog)
begin a dialogue
with a demagogue hedgehog
"Start a blog monologue
regarding this smog"
voiced to the hog by Bull
"You've had too much grog"
stated the hedgehog
offering a prologue
raising self up with a pull
"and regarding this blog
I have a backlog
know just analog
and expect my payment in wool"
here at gadgados we keep loosing them employees
the other day me was so frustrated threatened a quit
the MD heard of it i was summoned to the big office
whats the problem.. don't complain about your duties
do it this way do it that way accomplish it this way finito..
the MD didn't mince his words and i begged for a better pay
i begrudging backlog and overload and appreciation
him assuring we need you.. i never quit so i took a leave
am back to the hassle and tassle as i look for daily bread
of providence and work and great redemptive power
the power and ability to pay my bills thou an artist..
it inst easy living by art in this beloved nation of art
i am not a quitter but i nearly quit and weeks later
am handed a letter its a promotion and better pay
dated the same day i had wanted to resign from duty
lewis nyaga
Blurry e-motion
Waiting on words;
Upheaval swirls
Meal time posture
Food court harvest;
Same old stuff
Chinatown fringe
Walkabout excursion;
Hot humid weather chokes
Word for word jazz
Relevance juxtaposed;
Poignant verse strains
Book store punctuates
Tucked in a corner;
Niched following
Verse genres ply
Moods and variations;
Starling change surprise
Clap books monochrome
Small print runs;
Modest readership circle
Works on offer
Book bargains tease;
Second-hand relevance
Simple repast
Eat when hungry;
Flexible meal duration
Migraine fatigue hits
Siesta to recharge;
Stop gap measure
Cash and carry
Shopping trip downtown;
Happy getaway
Tired eyes droop
Glare of noon day sun;
Sudden shower wets
Casual visitors
Impromptu discourse;
Catchup chit-chat
So much to say
Hourglass reprieve;
Abruptly cut short
Conversations hurl
Mid-afternoon visit;
Twenty years backlog squeezed
We style a smile
Catch-up with past wit;
Great mileage in minutes
Joy in swift passage
Touching bases now;
Moments in retreat
Leon Enriquez
13 June 2014
Singapore
A life well lived
A loving and caring being
His smile made our hearts leap
Such a fragrance only he could bring.
A lot was said as he was lying in state.
So much love served but could no longer be eaten
Backlog of people swarmed in because of him
So great a crowd, his dwarf house had no space.
Indeed his life was love made cryptic.
At least from the little I knew of him
But never knew it splashed off the beaten track
Nor beheld so much admiration while still ticking he was.
Exquisite words fell on ears dumb,
The very ears they are meant to chin up.
I wondered why they had to twiddle their thumbs
Till he was about to bite the dust.
If only he knew how much love he created
It would have pushed down his throttle plate
And he would have fired on the more
Till all was given and none left to draw.
If only he heard these words during his time
He would have left with a better smile.
And it would have eased the strenuous life
Which is everyone’s plight.
I know I cannot follow this road.
Everyone that makes my heart flutter must know
At least this debt is the little I should pay
For the love that comes freely everyday
I am Black, Am Proud,
Not slack, but Smart,
As intelligent as Any Caucasian,
Africa gave life to other continents,
Let’s say She is the Cradle of Civilization.
You can’t underrate me, calling me a backlog for I
Know that I am an Absolute Specimen,
Maybe you don’t know the African physique is the unique
Prototype of God’s first creations.
Am proudly African,
Am No Racist,
A Humble Gent who Believe in Racial Equality,
But the Love for My Fatherland is all Encompassing,
So Natural...Landscapes with unique scenery,
Human Resources Intelligent and Hardworking,
Mother to the world.
My mind this place...
I need to go...
where my thought...
comes unhinged...
when tension arrives...
my thought pattern becomes
a barrage of the interim...
...a delicate thought singed...
I need to process...
to understand...
a mechanism
learned as a child
survival mode...
for my mind has no quick answer...
it can deliver two three days late...
through a filter...permeates...
down time is often needed...
while a decision lay in wait...
trapped inside interpretation...
some one else s damage...
unraveled...undone...
keep the faith...mystic illusion...
something good will come...
as we work our way through
challenges...and those curve balls...
...no longer discourage me...
...my mind needs time to
process...this depth this
understanding...
the explanation...the relativity...
form my foundations...
through soul thought
I entrust in me...
...survival mode
...self taught...
the mechanism of thought
is crucial to understanding me...
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