Long End up Poems
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The sky is red, the sun is black, im riding a roller coaster, but my mind is off track. Theres lots of ups and downs, smiles and frowns, even kings placing crowns on the heads of clowns. But I really don’t care, life isn’t fair, but gods given me a life I can hardly bear, every day I ask him, why cant you share? My life is going, I just don’t know where, because a life like mine is kind of rare. What do I do, while theres love in the air? Other people kiss while I just sit and stare, I look to my left, and theres nobody there, I look to my right, and theres a pair. The clouds are red, the rain is black, I may have left, but ill never be back, but what I can say is, theres nothing I lack. I look at the trees, I look at the sky, but what is the point when I just want to die? Why? Why do I try? When every time I fail, all I do is cry. And how can I be calm when im jealous of every guy? My heart is grounded, while my mind wants to fly, you can guess by what I write, that im also kind of shy, why do I need them? All they do is lie. I try to be nice, but they just punch me in the eye, and when im upset, all they do is pry. The clouds are blue, the sky is white, my mind is racing faster than the speed of light, my life just gets worse, but I still have to fight, why am I like this? Its just not right. Life is taller than me, im not its hight, I fly through the sky, gut still held to the ground, just like a kite, and why are people scared when they know I don’t bite? You can tell my whole life, just by what I write, I sleep during the day, and fly through the night, and im pushing a boulder with all my might. But im getting nowhere, my hands are bare, I love the dark, so give me a scare, I lost my mind and my soul, they were a pair. Sometimes I just sit, sit and think, think that I cant end up in the brink, my mind is empty and cold, like a skating rink, I don’t care if people say I stink, because I already know that im their main link, I have a cup, but nothing to drink, my mind wants to grow while my heart wants to shrink. The water is black, the sun is red, you cant kill something that’s already dead. I jump off the bridge, I take the dive, you cant kill something that was never alive. Im steering my life, but I don’t know how to drive…everything gets quiet when I arrive. I live in a shack, I peek through the crack, and when I look outside, all I see is black…
Am I really the only one thinking outside the box,
When it comes to pension costs,
Regardless of whether people are able to work or not,
With some working til they drop.
Let me open my box and tell you how to stop the rot,
In my box is all the evidence that points to the life experience,
That those who are for a pension now due can bring to the table,
Along with the math's calculations that says how much they can give back,
If we ask their help,
To mentor the young and keep them out of jail,
To share a lifetime of knowledge that we may need if the internet breaks,
So, we don't end up back in the stone age.
To help on their good days or even good hours to reduce the rubbish pile,
That is costing us more every minute to manage,
Then there the hidden costs they can help us with,
When you start thinking out of the box,
Like, the longer we employ them when they are incapable,
Of doing their job there is a cost,
Or the fact that increasing their age of retirement,
We delay the intake of the young,
And if the age of retirement keeps going up,
The number of those unemployed for life goes up,
A cost that would burden us for generations to come.
Then there are the facts about the health problems,
With older people in workplaces,
Bladder issues,
Skin that is less resistant to knocks,
To name but two which will leave businesses no choice,
But to raise prices.
Another thought I came up with while thinking out of the box,
Is that to get the best out of the old work wise,
We should be looking at retirement as a gradual process,
With flexibility for gradually reducing a persons work hours,
And shifting them to light duties, including mentoring roles,
According to their individual health and abilities to do their job,
This should create opportunities for more young people to
Enter the workforce.
Then still thinking outside the box there is the mental wellbeing of
The aged which effects their physical health which impacts,
The overall rate of spending on health.
The more useful and less anxious people of any age feel,
Is a win in terms of real dollars saved.
If we can get more people thinking out of the box on this issue,
We will find it is not an issue at all,
Once the number crunchers see the new evidence,
That was sitting outside their box,
Who knows they might be tempted to think outside the box themselves.
Wanting what I can’t have,
That seems to be my M.O.,
Why I keep doing it I’ll never know,
You’d think I’d understand that I can’t have it;
(Yeah yeah yeah,)
(Go ahead,)
(Make a blonde joke,)
(I’m not even blonde dumb ass;)
But no,
I still go on wanting it more and more,
I want what someone else has,
(Yes, I know,)
(****,)
(Shut up;)
I want what’s too far away,
I want what doesn’t want me,
I seem to want the impossible,
And then,
Outta the blue,
Something wants me,
And of course I get excited,
But then there’s luck I got,
Something always comes up,
And I always end up a day late and a buck short,
Story of my life,
It’s not just that it happens with something important,
No,
Of course not,
It’s with everything,
I can’t seem to get a break,
No matter how much time I have,
Or how many 20’s I got in my wallet,
It always ends up short;
(Yeah,)
(Go ahead,)
(Laugh it up,)
(I said short,)
(I know,)
(Smartass,)
(You aren’t helping my situation,)
(So just shut up,)
(I don’t care,)
(I’ve got bigger issues to deal with;)
Because I don’t seem to have enough of somethin’,
And lemme tell ya,
It ain’t fun not havin’ it;
(Not that you care,)
(You’re busy makin’ wise cracks,)
(Doesn’t really bother me though,)
(So get over yourself, a’ight?)
(Why am I even bothering?)
(I’m not writing this for you;)
I’m not writing this for anybody,
I’m just writing it,
Just putting my pen to paper,
And letting the ink write whatever comes to mind;
(That explains the ranting, eh?)
(Yeah,)
(Bite me,)
(I’m having enough problems without you,)
(So could ya just lay off for maybe five minutes?)
(Somehow I doubt that,)
(But one can always hope;)
It’s not my fault I come up short;
(And don’t even say it;)
I am who I am,
With or without whatever’s missing,
No,
Strike that,
Because if I had what was missing,
I wouldn’t be me now would I?
The thing I need,
Wants me without whatever’s missing,
But good luck finding that,
And we all know how my luck goes;
(That’s it exactly;)
A day late and a buck short,
Ahh the universe loves me;
(Don’tchya think?)
(What?)
(You don’t agree?)
(Can’t imagine why,)
(Well, I guess I’ll have to put up with you,)
(Lucky lucky me,)
(Nothin’ I can do about you;)
At least not now,
Not until I got an extra penny,
At least,
And I’m half an hour early.
What Makes A True Friend?
What are the qualities that a friend should
have – that which would make a true friend so true?
A friend is one whom you like to be with
while a true friend insists on being with you.
A friend likes you when you have so much in
common. True friends like you who for who you are.
True friends make you feel as though they are at
all times near, although they are very far.
A true friend is one whom you can always
talk to, even at night when it is late -
when loved ones are asleep, a true friend is
always there to hear what you have to say.
Friends like to share, but a true friend always
gives you – not what you want, but what you need.
The feelings you hide, as well as your thoughts,
and your dreams, a true friend can always read.
A friend may forgive you or they may not
forgive, for something wrong you've done to them.
A true friend forgives even when you don't
ask. True friends forgive - again and again.
Friends are close when you are close to them. A
true friend wants your friendship to be closer.
A true friend does what is best for you, and
hates that you would end up with the losers.
A true friend teaches you lessons to help
you grow – lessons that are hard and easy.
A true friend is always there - having a
true friend can never make you feel lonely.
Friends may sometimes make mistakes, but a true
friend is always careful not to hurt you.
A true friend is a guide and a teacher.
A true friend knows everything you go through.
The true friend I mention is our God,
who kept you company before you were born.
The friendship of God, if you truly keep
and cherish, you will never feel forlorn.
The true friend we all need is God (Allah) –
the One who guides and can teach us lessons,
the One who hears our calls and understands,
the One always near – in every season –
Allah, as a Friend, never judges us
by the way we look and how we appear.
Allah, as a Guide, if we ask Him for
guidance, He guides us and makes our paths clear.
Allah is with us – each day and each night –
He is always there when all are asleep.
Allah always listens when others don't.
He gives you comfort when He sees you weep.
Fortunate are those who have Allah as
a Friend. Friendship with God is friendship true.
May Allah bless me with His Friendship and
May Allah's Friendship be shared with you too.
Ameen. Allah knows best.
Miriam / Mariam Mababaya
If you stick your neck out for a friend, you’re likely to lose your head.
A friend is a potential enemy in disguise as a loving wife just before vowing ties.
Friends are of all kinds but the kind you want them to be.
A friend you use is a friend you abuse and who has no use of you.
The friend you call upon in need is always in greater need.
If you give a friend an helping-hand, make sure you take it back as soon as you can.
If you trust your friend with your girl, you’re the biggest dope in the world.
When friends meet, they always talk about beating meat.
If you take a friend to dine, make sure he leaves his horse behind.
The friend with daughters is the kind you wished sported blinkers.
A friend who works in banks, we always drop in - in person - to say thanks.
The friend’s wife even if she’s a bad cook is no chinook to hook.
If friends go on vacation with their wives, they always know who connives.
Friends who live close-up always end-up in the lock-up.
A friend with an axe to grind always uses it on some friend’s uterine.
A friendly father is one who takes a lasting interest in his daughter’s girl friends.
A friend who loans you some dough is always knocking on your door.
Only a friend who walks his dog picks the hour your wife goes out for a jog.
A friend at your beck and call must be wondering why you don’t him enthrall.
A friend by any other name is a still a friend you can put to shame.
A friend is someone you can entrust your shame with, but never your fame.
Keep your distance from the friend who shouts in your face for it’s a downright disgrace he spits in your face.
Friends who work for rival companies tend to share daily work memories.
Friends who work in different embassies are thick as thieves.
The greatest friends are those married couples with very large families who realize far too late they are/were really homo-sexuals.
Friends who give one another too many presents ought to look for friends who only give presents.
The best friends are those who need no psycho-analysts for they can see each other without waiting for appointments.
Childhood friends always end-up wishing their friends on other friends.
A friend of a friend always turns up for a spend or a lend.
Long lost friends who meet to go out for the night leave behind wives happy, whallop-py and tight.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
I worked towards this dream my whole lifetime
But it always seemed just out of my reach
The harder I tried to achieve it,
the further away it seemed to become
I was always told growing up
That I could be whatever I wanted to be
As long as I worked hard for it,
And kept my eye on the ball
No one tells you
No one prepares you for
what happens when you fail
The feeling of defeat, and loss.
That feeling of hopelessness
that seems to envelope you
Mind, body and soul.
I have fought so hard over the years
Tried and failed, just to pick myself up and try again.
Only to realize failure once more
How long do you ride this never ending Carousel?
constantly and consistently
Round and round,
only to end up in the same place you started.
Back to square one, over and over
When is enough, enough?
A day, a week, a month, a year?
When does one decide that
it is no longer feasible
To continue on this path?
To continue the ups and downs
on this roller-coaster of life?
You may even momentarily feel
that you actually are in control,
only to be holding on for dear life
within the next moment,
hoping and praying that you won’t
be ejected and thrown from
the false security of the car that is
barely being held upon the track.
One after the other,
time and time again
Failure after failure,
try after try
As I sit here once more,
after being thrown from
the proverbial horse
Trying to decide if
I should continue this
seemingly never-ending
spiral of failure.
I look back at all of
my attempts to succeed
that ended in failure
Never realizing the pattern
that was before me all along
I see those who have
supported me and had been
brought into my life at the
precise moment they were needed.
I see the places these attempts
took me and how each one
changed me in such a way that
I have become a better person
than I could’ve ever imagined.
I realize how each failure
caused me to become more
determined and more courageous
than I ever would have been
had I not experienced that failure.
So I guess it cannot be perceived
as a failure due to the good that
each experience has created.
I may not have reached
the goal that I have dreamed of
all of my life but what I got instead
is something greater,
something that goes beyond
all of my wildest dreams.
In this evening, I wear the perfect smile, and,
you’ll quake, in the wake of my guile
Cause I’m the best liar you’ll ever meet,
Because, In a way, I swear, I’d mean it
Not, to say that I believe it, but
The intention’s there all the same
This is my confession, my admission of guilt.
Because, it’s upon good intentions, that the road to hell is built
I’m always working toward my goals, and my dreams
But, in self observation, I'm beginning to question my means
As of late, been having a lot of trouble, maintaining the tension in the telegraph lines
And for that reason, the deserving will have no honorable mention
For these wires that run from ear to ear
have been in disrepair, for the best part of the last year
And, this is my apology, as well as, a desperate plea
Because, in reality, I’m in need, of someone that can save me,
Someone to be the monkey on my back
And one who possesses all that I lack
Someone who could, with words deify the drying of paint
And, since patience is a virtue, my girl will have to be a saint
Someone who bear with me, when I beg her to stay
and then push her away
Endearingly Awkward, is all I want to be
The martyr, with out the fee
But, the apprehension in me, doth decree
My title has the need for a higher degree
of precision, and simplicity
And, In fear’s wake, I’m brought to my knees
And, despite my hearts desperate plea,
I comply, and then cease to be,
Until, love breathes her life into me
I feel poison coursing through my logic
And capitulation that could be considered tragic
I’m growing weary, of this battle,
In which my ambitions are roped like cattle,
And slaughtered, just to end up filling the bowls and plates
Of, fear, my sworn enemy, the one I’ll never cease to hate
Considered jaded by some, and boring to most
I feel the part of the silhouette, or the ghost
But, in all honesty
I am, in a word, broken.
I don’t know, I cant even begin
To tell the difference between ecstasy and agony,
Or know what to say, when asked about my identity.
in the evening, behind this perfect smile, at my fork in the road,
contemplating left, or right, and carrying a hell of a load, .
I put faith in a coin toss,
Not knowing which led to love, and which to loss,
caught in clenched fist,
And slapped down on bare wrist,
for an instant, i wonder
if this Is reprobation?
Or some road, leading to my vindication?
I do it for the boys, the girls, men, the women,
plus Allah's unborn children look how I'm living
it's similar to, your situation no money making,
just chips and egg crates in front the Playstation.
Cable's late again my real friends know my struggle,
a rough 9 to 5 plus supplying studio time is my hussle.
It's just my father, Jibri, and I shacked in a shack
shackled to a broken home with no
welcome mat get back.
Everysince my mother left the building,
the feeling ain't the same pain is building
rain is killing the window pain.
Winters are harsh man, but I can take it though
as long as I'm wrapped up in these blankets
I'm a make it man.
I do it for the emcees, the djs, the b-boys, the b-girls,
hip hop is a growing culture plus it's a free world.
Free to manifest expressions,
free to rep your section focused over nice composures
flowing until the night is over.
Don't be like me just be like the music you like
use right rhyme and reason choose nice lines and preach them.
Watch the ones leeching watch who you be with frequent
cause you can end up with your dreams slowly sinking.
Only you can make it in this, it's a business,
forget the fame listen use your senses don't be senseless.
Be patient and grind hard if waiting to shine start
slanging tapes on my block & your block it don't stop.
Hit up every spot around,
it's a milion of us trying to get a milion bucks and
chill in a vila feeling the cool breeze.
I'm am who me.
the same easy dude speaking jeweles
do you I'm a do me.
I started off young with a pen and a pad lyrics I had
before that I scribbled on scraps forget about class.
Entered school thinking of rap,
grades sinking in math
twas either skip, go home, or sit in the back.
During lunch I read what I wrote
they said it was dope, within battles
no one put Bomb Threat on the ropes.
Six years later I.....left to go solo felt I was hopeless
in a group that wasn't hungry only one supplying money me.
Then the south was united, two years later divided
but Mama Glo, had the best ideas,
but I, down no man no way no how
cause if you make it in this game from the heart I'm proud.
FLA I will make this official rake up a pencil
for Jenah's sake I'm a make it
and mention you on an instrumental.
That's a promise I'm honest, show me love back
hold me down
southside is us you gotta love that.
There once was a couple who lived a peaceful unit until one day they designed to have a mystery party. Little did they know it will turn out to be the real deal.
It all started when the guest arrived with bong.. A gunshot they heard. The couple looked at one other and asked "Did you hear that? Did you change the plot." They both said no and went ago with it. Little did they know there was cold blood on the floor. Harsh killing, shooter on the loose and no one knew where he lurked.
Could be Wade the butter, could be Billy, the chef that always carries a knife in his suit? Could be Sue the maid, Sugar sunny the exotic dancer, or could be the happy couple? Thunder lurks booming sounds like if its was coming from the inside. The lights turn off and everyone shouts now no knows where they will end up. Feelings of fear and smell of blood in the air the lights turn and the suspects and killer all in the same room.
Flames were rising blames flying claims thumping but one one screams. Stop! Stop! Stop! Lets figure out what happened. Clues to the sense she had a gun in her hand was pointing at her but the gunshot was right through the heart. There was no letter to say it was a suicide. Meaning only thing there was murderer on lose but everyone was a suspect at this point.
Everyone started asking questions Could be you? Could be me? Who killed Sue the maid?
Everyone gather together just one person was out the group. He feeling guilty and guilty he was. The lights flickered like if they were winking at the him. Nervous- very very dreadfully nervous had been and is. He breaks down into tears. "Okay, okay!" It was me, said Wade." But she asked me to. She was my life. She was my wife. What could I have done? Sue was diagnosed with lung cancer. She had one day one day to live. She took out a gun. A gun out of her bag. She took it in her hand and she took mine as well. She said goodbye my love and pull trigger I know I didn't pull the she did, But the guilt was growing knowing I saw it all and I didn't call for help knowing she would be suffering through the night.
"I am weaken in mind but not by spirit, I hope she forgives me. I am calling the cops I have proof of what I am saying its true. Now its time to let her go. Moral of the story is it wasn't a murder but a mystery in a way a person that knew it was her time to say goodbye.
"We chase unreachable heights, in the hope to find happiness,
Only to find we are still the same, because in fact we are chasing ourselves."
(Triggered and inspired by a conversation this morning between Arthur Vaso and myself)
I have crashed many times over the past five years. Many, many times before realising I was chasing my own tail.
Does this mean that I don't crash anymore? On the contrary. I came back last week from a three-week stay in a mental hospital. Oh, I crash and when I do, I do it good and hard. Rock bottom, here I come.
Then what?
Realization is just a first step. It can also be the first hurdle, the one you never get over, that one that you will see in the distance and that becomes so BIG when you come near it, that it seems it will swallow you whole.
It's a first baby step.
What is unreachable? That is a first question everyone needs to answer for themselves. It's different for everyone, but we all share this: if we don't realize we are chasing a phantom, or our own tail, we will end up bitter and frustrated.
Unreachable for me (to make it less abstract) is:
- walking;
- playing the violin again;
- dancing again;
- speaking fluently;
- not feeling lonely;
- setting goals that jeopardize my mental and physical health.
Up until recently I tried to achieve the impossible by trying to reach every one of these goals. Seeing this list I think that everyone who knows me realizes that it's a list that is setting me up for failure. And I finally agree.
I used to try and aim for the impossible. And I admit it still feels a little like defeat by admitting I can never reach these goals. It made me deeply depressed at first, almost suicidal. But I am slowly learning to set new goals, little steps, small things that make me not only happy, but also proud of myself.
Like writing poems, alone or together with the marvellous poets I met here in Soup and among my other friends. Or finding out what fun sports are available in a wheelchair when you also have limited use of your arms. Or finding friends, even though my loneliness is innate (also something I needed to learn to accept.)
I still chase myself. But I set the reachable goal now that I finally found the truth: I am aiming for acceptance of self.
Comments and discussion greatly appreciated.
***
January 22, 2017