Once upon a time not too long ago there was a land
where men and women were free! A place we are told
ruled by democracy. “United we stand, divided we fall”
became the creed, the chant of all. Slowly at first a malaise
took charge and infected everyone.
Humpty Dumpty stood tall on his wall to see what was the
matter. Then Humpty slipped, took a great fall and landed
with splash and splatter. All of his buddies and foes,
suffering from bereft just looked at their toes and left.
That was when the spider, a stoic politician, became
a decider and said with volition: vote for me, vote for me
and forever stay free!
And so it came to pass that in the land of the free,
the politico and his peers prospered by enticing voters
with lies and false promises. What was once a democracy
became a politocracy: a government of the politician,
by the politician and for the politician.
United they stand and divide us all!
i sip tea, looking through my backyard window
wiping my eyes from this morning's wake up
the rose bush holds still, just one
black on white sits the crow on the fence
the sun's face still hidden from altostratus clouds
sunrays peek through onto mountains afar
dewdrops slowly begin to sparkle
the morning chirping crickets last forage
after another sip, I see the sun
heard chirps fade as the tweets volume rises
mostly evaporated the grass stands rich, and tall
i grimace, thinking, time to cut the lawn again
in the kitchen the phone on the wall rings
from the cake tray i steal the last cookie
on the sixth ring, i answered- hello?
recording says- landscapers for hire
the crow has flown, the sun still shines
I close the shade and wait
the front doorbell rings, the landscapers here
the vinyl's spin- "september morn" and "how sweet it is"
once upon a time
mushroom houses
dragons knights and castles
magic faerie tales
unicorns, Nessie and Yeti
gargoyles, griffins and kraken
damselflies, daisies and dragonflies
faeries, ferns, frolicking frogs
princess and princesses
full-blown fantasy
lions tigers and bears oh my
warlocks, witches and wizards
heros and heroines
happily ever after
I Once Was….
I once was young
Fresh out of school
The future lay at my feet
And everything was cool.
My face was void of wrinkles
My body flexible and strong
There was nothing I couldn't do
And my dreams inspired my song.
I never thought of aging
Of growing old
Forced to give up activities
Because my limits were sold.
I looked at older people
And felt a sense of relief
I had years to enjoy my life
Was my misconceptive belief.
Day after day
Year after year
I took life for granted
And lived without fear.
One day I woke up
And I looked in the mirror
I saw time had dwindled down
And my age was suddenly clear.
I was no longer young
With years stretched before
me
My body stiff like the tin man
My bladder the size of a pea.
My memory has faltered
Simple things playing hide and seek
And I faced the fact
That time had sprung a leak.
I once was young
And ready to take on the world
But time somehow got away from me
Like a newspaper age curled.
There once was a man named Clegg
Who had a wooden leg
It was full of coins
Right up to his loins
So he never had to beg.
Some witchery has happened in my past
As I was prowling swiftly through the woods,
The scent of freedom in my nose, my lungs,
My hungry stomach and my lonely soul.
That fateful evening as I fell asleep
There was no premonition and no hint
That in the morning as the sun appeared
I’d realize that I was not myself.
What were these hairless long and stumbling legs?
What were these arms that didn’t touch the ground?
What were these teeth that couldn’t maim and kill?
And this desire for a human’s touch?
Since that much-hated day I’ve lived in towns
And villages with people who do not
Suspect the origins of my unhuman self.
I eat their food, I dance around their fires,
But once a month, when skies explode the moon,
And when my past is screaming in my face,
My every tooth becomes a canine knife;
I’m on all fours, I flee towards the woods…
The morning comes, and being back in this
Forever weak, forever naked flesh
Is worth the taste of fresh delicious blood
Upon my chops, if only once a month.
IN AN OF A ONCE WILTED FLOWER BLOOMING AGAIN
Hey, paper flowers
Don’t grow
And love is not
A fun plaything:-
You tickled my heart,
And I giggled silly tears;
You then reeled me in
As I feasted on your sweet bait;
Then, you left, leaving me like
An old cemetery: full and lifeless:-
Now I ride a roller coaster of emotions
Up and down the tainted rails,
Life all so often travels:-
However, companions of pain and fear,
Are ceasing to be old road dogs,
Without whom I can’t survive;
And you will soon become
A faded keloid, my heart
Once tearfully bore:-
Now blooming
In the healing garden
Of passion, I fragrantly grow;
Waiting to be plucked and watered
In a vase of true and everlasting love:
May my given love, nourish your growth:-
There’s a kind of power in my failure.
Like a bell that always rings inside me.
Not too loud, but at the same time,
its echo feels like a song teaching me
that failure is but a phase.
It makes the world unpredictable.
It rings when I fall,
as if it's a sign I will rise.
It rings when I cry.
Yet when I hold a pen and paper
and write my pain out,
it barely makes a sound ,
like a bell too shy to ring.
So, I let it ring in its own time,
like it always gives me a chance to be me.
Yet on those days it rang,
it showed me that I was here,
and made me turn failure into a song,
a melody that lingers, uninvited yet welcomed.
There once was a certain floozie
Who sang just like a chantoozie
Not in smoky night clubs
But in outback pubs
It happened when she got quite boozy.
He Was a Child Once, Too
He was a child once, too—
before the dusk outgrew the dawn,
before his little hands knew
how much a heart could carry on.
A face once lived beyond his sight,
then slipped away from memory’s light;
and childhood, like a fading tune,
grew quiet beneath a borrowed moon.
He became a roof in someone’s rain,
a little warmth against their pain;
he gave his flame so others could see,
while darkness kept a place for him silently.
He wore the years like a borrowed coat,
kept every storm inside his throat;
and though the world saw strength in him,
I know the child still lives within.
To me, that man is not merely strong—
he is the real hero of my life.
I love you, Abu.
— Zehreen
Do l belong anymore
On that l am just not sure
Once it felt like coming home
Now it feels empty and alone
Once l knew it was for me
I had found my place of acceptance and happy
Now uncertainty reigns
The unknown flows through my veins
Once l had definite clarity
Now l feel no solidarity
Once verses now ….at completely different ends
Time has changed what once felt like ….a dear old friend
As this room, Earth life's, dims more
Leaves us, piling up
With too much things boxed, besides
This, junked, abides
In the mind's own storage place.
Old. Wilted, washed out.
Sentiment! Flowery phrased.
Dream world's. Since rased.
You call yourself my father but you never even bother to call me your daughter.
I sat for a while thinking about you
I thought that maybe hes on the moon
“Mollee what did you do, to make him leave all of you?”
I realize that it was never my fault
Hes and adult
Why should I blame myself for him walking away, it’s not like i was old enough to tell him to stay
Thinking about him leaving used to hurt more then bleeding.
I'm 14 now and somehow I still don't know why you left
you just settled on theft.
alive once again
When I take my last breath and my life fades away, listen for angels with their harps and the happy tune that they play
You see, death is the beginning and is like opening a door, as the hurt and pain you have suffered will be no more
You will no longer be old or confined to a bed; you will be the younger
You and not a grey hair on your head
In heaven with the angels where you belong, reunited with loved ones you thought were long gone
And when they say death is the end and you are no more, you just have to follow the light through that open door
So don’t be afraid and don’t shed a tear; you will not be alone, and there is nothing to fear
So when your time has come and you are no more, just walk a few steps through the open door
To a place of peace and where there is no pain, a place where you are young and feel alive once again.
I regret now having once thought
That each new morning fresh hope brought,
And keys were meant to open doors,
Bars on windows protect what's yours,
Steep walls were meant for privacy.
Now I see how wrong one can be!
As I await for my release,
I pray to God for inner peace.
(Honorable mention in Line Gauthier's Bite Size No 147 Contest)
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