I can make it rain when things need to be washed down the drain,i can make it. rain and go inside, i don't want to play no more. Momma open the door turn on some soothing music to compliment the rain drops striking the window panes,thank God i can make it rain.
When things go wrong and sometimes they will do that I choose not to get on the phone and go chat chat knowing they can't do nothing about that 'n that I choose to make it rain cause i don't want to play no mo.
When first the Covid plague had laid me low,
Methought I'd been in Tartarus below;
My teeth did chatter, naught could warm me there;
I gasp'd, I choked, I fought in vain for air.
The quicksilver stood calm, and said, "Not ill."
My legs did fail… and O, that bitter chill…
DAWNED AND PERPENDICULAR
Another day dawned;
We’re here perpendicular.
Let’s give God the praise:
“It’s the day the Lord has made;
Enjoy and be glad in it”.
Can you still
feel our beginning?
how overwhelmingly
amazing I made you feel?
how just thinking
of me made your
heartbeat so fast,
sending that heat throughout your veins?
how it felt like there was a magnet
that pulled us to one another
and how it felt so incredibly surreal?
can you feel how you craved me
and how my soft lips
felt pressed against yours
and how it seemed like we had
already belonged to one another
an eternity of forgotten days?
can you still feel
how those
butterflies felt
when I'd pull up
in my car?
Or how badly you'd
need me next to you
when we were far
apart?
Can you feel
how when we kissed
it felt like fire
burning throughout your soul
and how you had told me
that I was the first and only
woman that made you feel whole?
do I consume your thoughts
while you're awake & in your dreams?
are you still so positive
that you and i were meant to be?
can you still hear that voice in your head
that told you I was the one
the very moment you laid eyes on me—
because I am still trapped inside the smoke.
They want to occupy us, take control, make us be on our knees, and kick us while we are down.
More and more, we hear and see, many that want to dominate and make us slaves, make us pay, make us slaves, make us weak and make us cry.
We want to live in peace, to love, to walk in peace, to pray and live happily.
They want to end our lives, to make us slaves, to make us cry, they want to change our ways, to make us live under their ways.
We want to live in peace, to love, to walk in peace, to pray and live happily.
We ask God to clear any and all that want to harm us, to take away all the negative force that surrounds us and tries to make us live under occupation.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Anger-fueled words flare out of his mouth
like blue flames
I can feel the energy darken and turn cold
I sit silently
keeping my eyes locked downward,
absorbing every atom of hatred
that forms the sharp sounds being emitted.
I try not to show how uncomfortable I am
instead, I stare at the hypnotic,
damaging radiation waves
bellowing invisibly from the light of my phone screen,
pretending not to be affected by the unnecessary
vulgarities spouting from his ego.
in less than an instant,
the vibes go from comfortably chill
to anxiously wishing I was anywhere
but in this passenger seat.
every sentence carves a new scar
into my already damaged soul
as my brain categorizes each word
where it rightfully belongs.
I’m grateful for my oversized sunglasses
that hide my wincing eyes—
until I catch him looking sideways at me.
I solemnly mutter something about it being rush hour,
trying to become as small as my body will let me be.
I hope it seems like I’m too engulfed
in whatever stupid game I'm playing
to notice the short-fused flip-outs
that now happen every single time
we're in the car.
Life--the never-aging ballerina—pirouettes outside my window like a gazelle in showers of rain, snow, apricot blossoms, October gold... She is completely oblivious to MS sentencing me to immobility. I am irritated by her like a cow is irritated by an insect, except I don’t have a tail to shoo her away, and even if I had one, it would be as limp as the tutu in my closet…
The antelope wench
Is prancing all day;
I find it so strange:
I swat her away—
She dances instead
Of leaving, the prig;
I moo in my shed
Resenting her jig.
I have sought to conquer death,
his reaping blade was just too impalpable against my neck.
Wherein I must traverse alongside a withering flower—
has society already proscribed death?
An incurable disease has fallen,
the doctors left disheartened,
my family already blasé.
Then why I must be anguished?
Ambrosia was never meant to be eaten—
it yearned to be saved.
And if consumed by entitled desires,
it would grapple all mortals to death.
It is inequitable for me to have the antidote
to a disease that was never meant to be cured.
I want to be sanctified once more,
but I am already disillusioned by the veil.
Shaking off sad leaves still clinging,
singing of the summer gone,
For seasons change, and so do we,
Embrace now, golden dawn
The sunrise on the desert rises boldly, golden hued,
Reminds of life eternal, past the darkness
Night construed
Day is born, the world spins
Hope born again
Renewed
.................................................................................................................................................................................
A person leaves a memory,
a voice still breathing in an empty room;
a parent leaves a child's hand to hold
the wisdom gathered through a lifetime's bloom.
A lover leaves an absence at the door,
a chair untouched, a silence in the bed;
and words survive in letters, photographs,
small objects keeping what the heart once said.
Some leave a scar where tenderness once lay,
some leave a wound that time cannot erase;
some leave a garden, a house, a tree—
a changed and quiet place that bears their trace.
A life leaves footprints even after death,
a legacy written in another's days;
yet we abandon dreams we cannot carry,
and leave behind the selves we once displayed.
We cannot take our possessions into night,
nor carry earth's green forests when we go;
humanity leaves its shadow on the planet—
a wound, a wonder, and a debt we owe.
And long after memory has lost our name,
when even our last photograph is gone,
somewhere, somehow, because we once were here,
the darkness will be different from the dawn.
What courage to weather a crimson storm
Rising up bridging the gap between fear and action!
Life changes like the colours in autumn.
Transitions are not as smoothe as seasons.
A crimson storm rages in the depths of the soul
Throwing up confusion like debris.
A crisis of identity, faith and point of view.
A questioning of where one stands in life.
A crimson storm isolates us in our own mind.
We wonder if anyone could understand and
The methods of management is down to us.
Courage walks beside fear helping us to rise.
They cross the bridge of uncertainty together
And the person central to those feelings
Is greeted by joy on the other side
Because the storm did not hold them back.
When the heat of the crimson storm cools off
And life begins to settle down,
A character gains strength and knowledge...
What will this mean moving forward?
What If Everything
That You Thought
Wasn't Important
Wasn't Important
AT
ALL!
Quick.
Think Fast!
How Exhausting.
-Gray Squirrel
10-07-2026
Father
You are always going
To be number 1
In my live
Also father I need you
Badly in my life
That is the whole truth
That is coming out
Of my mouth
Father don't bother calling me
A liar because that is not me
I am afraid that you are forgetting
My Dad was my Idol, Philosopher and Guide
He taught me to obey Moral Values in life.
Throughout my life I do respect those.
He led most disciplined life.
He had left great example of his life style.
What he had left behind, I try to follow.
I took my life as a challenge
with courage at every step ,
never tried to escape.
I am leaving behind instance of my life style
to my children.
They have learned to honour Universal Moral Values
such as honesty, truthfulness, selflessness, love, compassion.
Above all, they are righteous but not religious
Like me they follow only one relegion and that's HUMANITY
I am leaving these fundamental concepts to my children
in order to follow to build a healthy life style.
Is life not written on the passing clouds
Shapeshifting rumors on an errant breeze
Tailoring the moon’s mysterious cloak
The fire and ice of an unsettled liege
Is she not a master of words that deny
The meaning of heaven and earth and goodbye
Conjuring demons to lead us astray
An unending search for the why of the why
Wet sands erase the sun’s sepia smiles
Leaving us breadcrumbs of love and despair
The flicker of longing we no longer feel
An aching that asks were we really there
Clouds have no mem’ry save moonrise and tide
And life only moments in which they abide
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