Next time around I will be six foot eight
I will play basketball, and I will be great
Next time around I will be born in a city
I will have confidence, not care if I’m pretty
Next time around I will not care what people think
My own opinions will keep my joy in the pink
Next time around I will be a star with an entourage.
People will lavish me with bouquets and a corsage.
Next time around I want fifteen fingers and twenty toes
What I would do with them, only is known by me and my nose.
I would have two nostrils and six eyes of royal sky blue.
Some could call me a monster; it would be long overdue.
My body would be corpulent, Rubenesque, Hilda-cartoon like.
My hips too large to fit in a car; they would crush a motor bike.
I would be carried on a royal stretcher, taken place to place.
In spite of this development, I would have a pretty face.
She is the queen! The call would go up, as in a battle cry!
I would be feared and revered, until I chose to fade and die.
Next time around I want hair that curls up, and touches the sky.
Fifteen fingers, twenty toes, you cannot imagine why.
Within the mind the monster sneaks
Hidden by shadows of what we think
The sin that hovers the conscious mind
Awake we find the call for time
Time to seek time to tell
Time to buy time to sell
Time to laugh time to cry
Time for truth time to lie
With in the heart the spirit speaks
Revealing the secrets of what we seek
The good we do often incomplete
Awake we find the will we seek
The will to live the will to die
The will to fight the will to survive
The will to love the will to hate
The will to be silent the will to debate
With in the ego the pride often speaks
The outward appearance that everyone seeks
The feelings governed by more than we see
Awake we find what we should be
Be more careful next time around
Be the one who wears the crown
Be the one without the mask
Be the one who completes the task
how do we vibrate,
here at heaven’s gate?
do desires remain,
soul sees as a stain?
if in dark fears drowned,
the next time around,
how will our life change,
in a new realm strange?
Speeding out and back around the sun
The comet came on its periodic run
Straggling tail spread afar
By the wind from the star
Carrying deep at its heart
The vital spark for life to start
Each package held there steady
For despatch to any planet ready
For the precious gift given to few
The chance to nuture life that’s new
One last look but nothing found
Maybe just maybe next time around
The mission continues at its alloted pace
Time and distance both vast in outer space
The comet carried on its periodic run
Speeding out and back around the sun
So many forks on Opportunity Road
She turned back quickly the first time
Settling for a life she never wanted
But it was incredibly easy
And dreams can be adjusted
Sad about her settling, she tried again
This time it was much more difficult
For she had children, and a husband, two cats, a dog or two
But she thought she could do it
She began anew, readjusting, and finally changing her dream
Life happened, and she slid all the way back to the ground floor
It took twenty-five years, and eighteen colleges to get her close
She was excited about it, but no one wanted to hire a forty-four year old
She did not get an interview, so she turned down a fork in Almost Road
Almost Road was better than nothing, right?
The next time around, she plans to do better
Her best advice to her grandchildren is be you, don't stop.
Travel down Dream Road, collecting stars and diamonds along the way.
We suffer seperately in our factured future.
Even though we are only three streets away.
But in many ways we are Mars and Venus.
With only the pleasure of wishing on shooting stars.
Longing to meet somewhere in the middle.
But there is so much space between us.
Being pulled by unknown forces.
Perhaps we'll see each other again on the next time around this dying star.
Fully aware that our paths will always bring us back to each other only to rip us apart again.
There is love in this consistency.
We may do this through all our lifetimes
but of all the world's cruelties at least there is beauty in that it lingers.
Tones blare
Heart pounds
Prayers sent
Station bound
Turnouts on
Nomax too
Helmet, gloves
And rubber boots
18-15
That is me
Sirens sing
Engine gleams
Airpack on
Arrive on scene
Cars on fire
Patients scream
Hoses pulled
Scene assessed
Flames put out
Jaws of life spread
Patient care
EMS on scene
Life-flight inbound
Punctured spleen
Patient gone
Hospital bound
Head back home
Til next time around
2/19/2020
Pick her up when she cries, one said.
Never pick her up, said another. You will spoil her.
Love her, said grandma.
When do I pick her up? The young mother asked.
Three times a day, one answered.
Don’t ever pick her up, another stated. You will spoil her.
Whenever you want to, the grandma told her.
Now? The young mother asked.
Do you want to?
Yes.
Then what do you think?
I should pick her up?
The grandma smiled.
Knowing it will be easier for the young mother the next time around.
My next time round will be different for me
I won’t question what good there is to see
And try not to be misunderstood
Not wondering if I can or should
There will be more rainbows to make me smile
And I know that I wouldn’t waste a mile
I would give thanks for what I will find
Not wishing for what can never be mine
For life is such a precious thing
And at every opportunity your happiness should sing
Just one more thing before I close
I won’t sweat the little things you know.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Swing batter batter swing
Keep swinging no matter what life's curve balls may bring
The bases are loaded and the heat is on
Make a choice to take a chance before the opportunity is gone
We hit high fly balls and low ones that make us cheery and weary
Life's a mix of both and we are all champions in our own world series
Everyone feels defeated as you strike out and miss
Don't you give up it could lead to a victory kiss
Next time around you may knock it out of the park
We are all stars and have the power within to illuminate the dark
Repeating Themes
I guess maybe I am tired
of repeating the same themes.
But I must, if I’m ever
going to overcome them.
My patience is not there.
In my mind, the more often
that I go through something
the faster I have to overcome
it the next time around.
This time though, I’m sick to
my stomach at what it will take
to overcome this theme, or
rather this stockpile of themes
that have accumulated over time.
Its about what i did wrong
What i could have done different
Its about thinking was i even good enough to begin with
its my minds thoughts to a tragedy of my own
Could i have been better
I guess now i will never know
I can't help but wonder
Could i have been to blame
Was i only half the problem
Or the full equation
I will never be the same
I can only make a few different decisions
Put words to motion
Make sure it doesn't happen again
Turn away from the bad voices
Of people who opinion should not have made a difference
trust me when i say my second chance will be made with better choices
I am now left to reflect and regroup
To get stronger and better
For what is to come in my future
Next time around i will think smart
Because you will be helping me forever in my heart
RIGHT?
Looking at it now
Life isn’t simple.
We do make mistakes
Every now and then
We’re the great sinners.
We can’t undo
What has been done.
Need to avoid
Next time around.
We’re sinners!
Not a saint.
Need to learn…
From our
Mistakes.
Right?
Nature held a Beauty Pageant
Guess who was crowned a crest?
A flowery green meadow was the stage and rostrum
Watch who won the contest.
Well, the peacock from India was crowned beauty King
The bird of paradise from New Guinea became Beauty queen.
And last but not least was the Indian tiger, runner up
But care he for beauty that he might as well sup?
And what care any of them
for accolades, crown or cup?
Other contestants were the gorgeous leopards
and the flimsy beauteous butterflies
They'll be crowned
next time around.
For beauty tis rich in supplies.
But nature-lovers alone applauded the flamboyant winners
who gaily stood upon the flora
They did come out with 'flying colors'
Around them nature's beauty an aura.
Miss world bird of paradise yet unaware of her placing
The peacock endowed by God a crown
They might never know of this showcasing
At our staring, gawping, they might just frown!
Then there are those unsung unawarded yet perfect beauties
both among mortals and animals
who join no display contests nor pageants
yet are undeniably glamorous nonetheless
for beauty ain't exclusive
to önly beauty contestants.
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