When I was a child, every holiday was a surprise
teachers had us designing jack-o-lanterns and cutting out ghosts
this is how I had an inkling Halloween was afoot
It seemed like we were tracing our fingers to make turkeys the next week
Christmas was thrown at us by the music teacher.
We did not have an art teacher back in the day
our teacher was our art teacher
There was no winter program
there was a Christmas program
No one had ever heard the term politically correct
As an adult I can finally predict when the holidays are arriving
They come fast and furiously every year, like tornadoes and windstorms
I inhaled your blows like asbestos in my lungs
You smiled so sweetly while cutting out my tongue
Tabasco in my wounds, all the lies that ever stung
You didn’t even know it but I died so very young
I saw the ugly side of you each time I showed my heart
I wanted to be loved but you pushed us far apart
I’d give up on the dream of us if I was really smart
Because I should’ve up and left you from the very start
You never apologized for everything you’ve done
Just pointed your cold hatred at me like a loaded gun
Couldn’t be myself around you, I burned under your sun
So I lived inside your shadow until I turned twenty one
You took your anger out on me and punished me for fun
You hate that I’m just like you but that’s what I’ve become
So keep the bitter trophies of the war you never won
I’ll blossom through the cracks and I’ve only just begun
Cutting out a paper moon,
now in April not in June.
Eating ice cream with a spoon,
seeing TV moon at noon.
Now gluing it will dry soon,
to make a funny cartoon.
Paper moon is a balloon.
She looked pretty at the Zebra crossing,
weaving slowly, her shampooed hair tossing,
cars stopped still, to allow her go across,
who wouldn’t stop to let a beauty pass!
She looked neither to her left nor her right,
body cutting out shape in pants bit tight,
eyes fixed on the messages on her phone,
tripping when side stepping a traffic cone.
She continued her walk on the pavement,
her gaze on phone, no other engagement,
people just getting out of her long strides,
moving out, leaning against walls on sides.
She will, let us pray, march on and reach home,
Walking in a dream with eyes on her phone,
Smart phone habits have made people road blind,
live in a cyber, not engage their mind.
a habit that has cost many their lives,
smart phones kill more now than do guns and knives,
when use road pay attention to surrounds,
watch each step well as your feet touch the ground.
not fashionable if on phone walking,
drivers, road users find it annoying,
drop habit, urge others to do the same,
can save lives, limbs, if this habit we tame!
I planned futures with you,
but your happiness came first.
When anger calls, you shut off
I must stay composed,
must communicate,
must hold it all together.
Smile. Talk nice.
The bare minimum is not enough.
Imagine giving your life
to someone who would build with you,
then leave when joy runs dry.
Words once meant something.
Vows weren’t meant to break.
I could climb mountains,
cross oceans,
fly the world
still, not enough.
So take this version of me:
hollow, nonchalant, unsubscribed.
If attention is currency,
I will devalue myself
crash the market.
SPONTANEOUS ART
My spontaneity
of pure chance style
is to use
paper on a handheld
A4 clip board as a work board
&upon it
use a 6 pack of 'primary
(no smudging/quick drying)
paint sticks)
then
to experiment
therewith randomly
exploring abstractly
with these colours
¬ caring if I
overlapped onto
the underlaying
smaller sized
paper beneath
in addition to these sticks
using other media e.g tippex,pencils biros...
(whatever came to hand)
Sometimes
using the smaller underlying
smudged artwork to rub( when wet)
. randomly upon the others
to create
'spontaneous' effects
& also cutting out shapes
therefrom
that appeared to me
as something ie animals faces
or whatever.
I think that I have never seen
an idea that is more obscene
~ than that of tipping a machine
I thought tips were meant for service
Cutting out our jobs makes me nervous
~ without us humans, what's the purpose?
But! gotta keep up with the times, you know
Seems that tipping for !nothing? is the way to go
~ and so: 'Take your service to Hell, way down below'
Christmas Elves cut out the cookies all over the place.
They had them in each room, and they ran out of space.
In the bathroom? Someone asked, with a bit of a twitch.
It was the persnickety annoying grouchy old Christmas witch.
The bathroom elves are helping, and they know what to do.
They are frosting them in colors of red, green, yellow and blue.
We are also cutting out cookies on porch railings in the moonlight.
The Christmas witch threw up her hands and ran off into the night.
Another day at the gym,
Pumping iron for the swell.
Aching muscles feeling grim,
As I put myself through hell.
Boneless chicken that I bake,
Egg whites keep me lean.
Protein powders in a shake,
With a dose of creatine.
Heavy squats inflate the quads,
Bench presses for my pecs.
Arm curls to increase the odds,
In the mirror just to flex.
Pull-ups will expand the lats,
Back with snatch and grabs.
Cutting out excessive fats,
And crunches for my abs.
Stretching to protect my calves,
Dumbbells for bulging traps.
Smearing on more greasy salves,
For running more than twenty laps.
After many hours dripping sweat,
My daily workout finally done.
Don't you know I won't regret,
While basking in the blazing sun.
Orun mu oru
Eni ba lo lomo
Eni ba bo lomo
We tend to light our fears in the presence of a designatory Pen ??
Cutting out our souls for a damage we couldn't comprehend
Having it believed we either see it finished on Horse we rode from a distance journey
Making it tend we will enjoy the presence of our beauty
The courtesy we demanded hasn't never left, we throw away the dignity and seek for a red ink
Shall we lose our faith?
Shall we have our faith?
Shalll we overcome our threats?
Shall we overcome our pains?
?????
A coat was cut for a king in a rough yard
Looks so excellence dwelling in powers while he's being at shame from a Grandmasters
Our pieces was a doom when we seek for the truth in lies we told
"Consistently Drying the flowers
Watery the stones
Praising the Woes".
Partying and throwing shades of laughter
Independently crying and seeing the light to beautiful abode
The horse got cut down
The smiles turns fears
The might took lose
Grieves set its standard and work like a Nightmare endorsing Dreams
Races upon races
Flowers upon flowers
Crys upon crys
The City Walls becomes the gate to home of no Return.
Low and dim
I store my excitement together for you
Of a fortune no millionaire could purchase
A starless twilight viewed from your moonbeam caress
Never surrendered
Constantly cutting through the force
Which odes to Nevermore
Lust controls a love you pounce,you tear with remorse
The silent fall of a purposed rain
Never surrendered
Constantly cutting out the meaning of life
High and bright
I come to your heart imbued with goodness
Hidden but not lost, you can't touch the love in my heart
You can only let it encompass your soul
To believe in nature, to believe us together
Only exposed freely to lovers and me
From an inner so dull and faint
Deprived of the choice between acceptance and restraint
A sinner turned pilgrim progresses into a saint
Approaching the Light he must quickly acquaint
A glare leaving the eye not without complaint
Exposing his garment's rips and taint
The entrance of God's Word brings Light
Giving purpose to sight
Giving direction to might
Giving right insight on plight
Cutting out righteous lengths and heights
The very privilege to know your rights
Once lost but now found
Once distraught but now sound
Once chained but now unbound
Once oblivious but now renowned
And when airborne and looking back at the ground
The quick and time-cut work of God will always astound
K. Muitherero.
For others, spring means life
Flowers bloom
And babies are born
The air smells fresh
Perfect for new beginnings
For me
Spring triggers memories
Scenes in my mind that make me cringe
Trauma
Depression
Fear
And
Obsession
For me
Spring
Will forever symbolize the opposite of life
Spring cuts into me
Deeper than the sharpest knife
Slow and steady
It drags down my heart
Cutting out my innocence
Spring is forever tearing me apart
Oh! How he sauntered like a lord with his flaunt
The bluster and strut so nonchalant
The swank and sway blew me away
And swept me under the table like child's play!
My! His handsome style
His arrogant modesty was no denial
He beamed as he jilted so tauntingly
Every female around was flibberty-jibberty
Cursed! As he grabbed my eye balls out of their sockets
My heart in my throat-my stomach an empty pocket
While his prance in tight pants made me dance
Wishing for one real bona fide chance
So! Afraid of the outcome of dealing with this situation
Argh! "Get em up scout!" I'm cutting out
My courage is fading to total damnation
By this spellbound swagger sensational "knockout"!!
Moms beat their children half to death
For scissoring up their best white sheets
Cutting out two holes for eyes
Ghosts don't really look like that
Damaged linens is the Outer Limits
Is Addams Family crazy beyond the pale
Whiter than white turned gray
Thank you Thing!
Give Cousin Itt a comb for all that hair
To see through this vale of tears and darkness
Hand him a brush with death
A hand sandwich with mustard on it
Hand him a knife to cut through clouds
Gray beyond the pale
Beyond white sheets with holes cut in them
Blowing in the wind with ghosts still in them
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