Began chatting, then as talking.
Talking, to safe haven.
Safe haven, to unfolding the dark tucked away.
Unfolding, to sharing years of distant memories.
Sharing, to unloading your internal warehouse.
Unloading, to tears flowing.
Tears flowing, words stinging.
Words stinging, airway burning.
Relief, haunting at bay for a passing moment.
Healing slowly, piece by piece.
Uncovering layer by layer.
Tear by tear.
One hour used to feel endless, now one hour feels like minutes.
Like meeting a friend, you felt you always knew. All the masks fall, no more camouflage, no more sabotage.
Just healing, growing and learning.
Beware of the men in bald, they say.
You’ll see them everywhere.
They come in sizes, tall and short,
upon their heads, no hair.
The bald men come in thin, they say.
They also come in fat.
Their heads are found upon their necks,
often, underneath a hat.
It is much better, people say,
to have hair upon your head.
It doesn’t matter, the color,
be it blonde or black or red.
But, if your head grew grass instead,
they’d say you ought to mow it,
and water it so it won’t fall out.
That’s what they’d say, I know it.
Now let me tell you something, son,
about the bald men you will see.
Some of them are not so bad,
like my father, his father, and me.
I read these letters I've written,
One was to be continued,
I must have been dreaming,
It made no sense.
Dreaming.
No one has three dresses,
the couple are strangers.
I'll never find them anyway,
the list.
Dreaming no more.
You do,
I do.
Why didn't he say some words like we do?
All was there,
no dress,
no shiny shoes,
no list,
no dreaming.
All was good.
Me,
You,
This Preacher,
His witnesses.
Witness His counsel he said,
What counsel?
Dreaming.
I'm young again.
We're Counsel.
You,
Me,
A Preacher,
His Words.
His Counsel,
Our love on paper to witness.
Dreaming no more.
I'm dreaming no more.
I’ve been to counseling.
Uni-life can be stressful, it's a 'judgy' environment.
We're under constant evaluation.
So, there’s free counseling.
Have you ever been to counseling, dear reader?
What I love about counseling is that someone has to sit and listen to MY issues..
Wait, doesn’t that sound a lot like poetry!?
To you, Geoffrey, congratulation
On your gladdening Graduation
Well-deserved: the standing ovation:
You are ready to serve your nation….
However, I fear, from your bedroom,
As you wait for the right job to loom!
Spurious has been the worshipped oil boom,
A compatriot leaning on it – Doom!
Now, to face it, one shapes one’s future,
Defeats a drag-me-down subculture,
Adds refreshingly to one’s stature,
Story rewrites and paints new picture…
How to deal with eyes for the TV,
Each day to some firm with your CV,
Hopes fastening on future PV:
Some patients are treated no IV…
I have said but part of all the things,
The main point: A Graduate tries hand swings;
In his ears I-can-open-doors rings…
Forever above Angels with wings.
We prefer putting blame on pastor-counseler
For secretly meeting her without him
He, not suspecting, divide & rule strategem
She later explained, I gave Dean my side
In case you blamed me for our "fall"
It was indeed love (of this world) after all
Best way forward, Dear Heart, seek His Will
Our free will always is our freedom, personality
LORD God never canceled The Commandments Ten
Zafar Sapari is drug addict and he needs counseling.
Khuda tujhay ice shesha aur cocaine say nijaat day...
I'm just looking for advice...
In the mirror I blush
or I pale with what i notice
There are folk, in church or non-church family
Abounding in warmth; "Hi folks!" with charm
Least expected ... On the couch, deep memory:
Kind misdeeds, intent ignored: cut on thy palm
NOTE: a pastor may counsel successful churchgoers & find unsorted anger & hurts, rumbling & smoking with volcanic ferocity. Watch for small signs: the unkindly cuts from charming people. So, talk ....talk, talk, talk. Someone will listen so that volcanoes will be natural disasters, not human. Shalom ShalOm
Can somebody, please, tell A Sugar Mummy
That her sweet young guy is not a dummy
Out of her The ‘Sugar’ what is left is ‘Mummy’
At last, her presenting as The Dummy?
Can’t someone urge My Sugar Mummy
To try a longer look at her tummy
For the still bold presence of The Gummy
That finally does return to her “A Granny”
Or, still not finer, ‘An Aging Nanny?
The Sure-To-Get A Nasty I Beg Your Pardon?
From a cheating lover she has told “Well Done”
And a much nastier and coarser I Beg Your Pardon,
After vengeful claims of not having a farthing.
Always, as at the last moment,
A hurting, even heart-bleeding comment
That does reveal her hidden rejection
By one already championing her projection!
They started
Selling
Their blood
Now their
Own brain
To make money
Well up at 3 this morning couldn’t shut the eyes anymore.
Finally hit the road before 6.
Took a drive
up not knowing where to go
Mind blank, mind filled
Wrote this while driving.
Insanely my thoughts crave my attention at untimely times.
My poem is mine now
Maybe someday I’ll post it here
This isn’t it
If you want to stop smoking, you should seek counseling from me.
I have a lot of experience in that category.
Not smoking is sort of a hobby of mine.
I'm an expert on the subject. I've stopped at least a million times.