The little birds sing with the rising dawn. Slowly I wake, my face sad and withdrawn.
The songs the birds sing, of my task they remind me. Slowly I smile, and that's how my
friends find me.
Ever so cheerful, I always laugh, always grin. They have no idea what I hold within.
For a person so strong, they don't know that I'm frail. Reaching, and hurting, smiling
and supporting.
But then the day is done, the sun sets, the birdsong stops.
It is then, and only then, that my mask drops.
There's no need to smile, there's no one to please. The darkness reveals what the day
hides from me.
In the dark I face that I am alone. That I don't know who I am, or what is hope, where
is home.
But then, as I tire, I'll go to sleep. I'll dream silly things until the birds start to sing.
The dawn will come, and my mask will rise with it.
IT'S MASK TIME!
Daniexelle M. Lingofelter
Nestled in coconut groves and lush fields of paddy,
with the love of a large family, each day warm and tardy,
Ever poised and elegant, stood my trove of memories,
as boys and girls innocent, played under mango trees.
Soon as grandma came in sight, her hair grey with age,
we rushed to hold her tight, dropping our baggage.
It felt as soft as feather, touching her frail hands,
her eyes filling with tears, to see us back on her lands.
Dewy mornings crawled by, as we grew lazy by the day,
sultry afternoons passed by, watching cows feed on hay.
Breaking the serenity of dusk, came a fishmonger yelling,
catch of the day cooked with much spice, there was no telling.
Swollen with the monsoon, the dark night sky,
eager to pour it down soon, still as the earth did lie.
And soon, when will I see you next, grandma would sigh,
Feeling sad, as the moment came, for another good-bye.
When will I get this back
is it far too late
I already stepped on the crack,
now I'm, far too off the map-
Sometimes I wish it were forever,
others, I ponder and regret
but it's a rotten apple, it's spoiled inside
but the outside hasn't been touched yet
Chorus
So hello immortality,
I've quite missed my best friend
you've been gone for too long now
and now it starts again
again when everything rising up
left everyone in despair,
I promise to reject that absence,
cause i'm coming back for good and again
Here I stand again now,
revolver glued to my hand,
society calls, and I repent
this music stays alive again
I wait for the day it's over
I wait for the day it's the end
But unaware, I abide the death
But my timeless meanings occur again
Chorus Repeat*
Embrace each and every day with pride
Written By Dean Masciarelli
November 18, 2010 (7:02am)
Embrace each and every day with pride;
and set all your fears and worries aside;
Because you really don’t have it that bad;
Compared to so many other people
in the world; including the children;
that have nothing; And they
don’t even know where there next meal
is coming from; so that they can be fed;
And it is truly saddening to see; so
much
suffering; taking place in our world;
At least you have a roof over your head;
and a nice comfy bed ;
to sleep in when you are tired;
Embrace each and every day with pride;
and set all your fears and worries aside;
Because you really don’t have it that bad.
I am inspired by people
who rise above the mundane quagmire
of their previous daily existence.
One day through diligence,
they become better off than the day before.
Just like an infant who steps out of a dirty diaper and
continues to walk forward, he will ultimately look back.
He can hear, see, feel, smell or be smeared by the previous.
If he backslides he will lose what he has gained.
What he rose above, only to leave behind
becomes highly motivational in retrospect.
The ultimate essence of this new dignity,
is to “NEVER FORGET HOW ONE ARRIVED!”
*Dedicatd to those who refuse to remember!
For John Heck's Beatlemania competition. To the tune of "For No One" from the Revolver
album.
The day fades, the earth shakes
The Haitians find their homes no longer stand as families fear their future
They struggle through rubble
To find survivors, loved ones who've succumbed quietly to nature's violence
And in their eyes we see despair
No spark of hope behind the tears shed for victims
So many lives lost in tremors
They want help, they need ours
And so we dig through empty pockets struggling to find scant resources
And in our eyes they see empathy
In tears we promise to do what little we can offer
To ease a pain that knows no end
We stay home, we watch them
The TV shows such agony that all are moved to send their prayers and sympathy
A day breaks, our hearts ache
Such turmoil spills upon the screen and we reach out to help our Haitian brothers
And in God's eyes they are children
As are we all now joined in hearts and in sadness
Rebuild this nation with His help
So many people in these days and times
Are busy talking about love but no proof will you find;
They talk about it day in and day out
But if you look at their actions, you will find there is reason for doubt.
They look upon others and think they are or no good;
They feel that they only have what it takes to do and be understood;
And therefore I ask the question, do they love others as they should?
Is it inspired from above?
And how great is that love?
Do they always try to greet others with a kind word and a smile?
Or do they say, "I'm sorry," they will just have to wait awhile?
The Scriptures says to love our neighbor as we love ourselves, but
so many are saying it and doing something else.
They "walk" over others as to say they are nothing and treat them like dirt;
And do it without feeling, as if they wont be hurt.
But as time keeps on progressing and life keeps going on
All of us must take a look at ourselves and figure out what's wrong.
Decide if we are loving, being led by God's Spirit from above-
Search deep down inside ourselves to know
How great is our love?
It was only a shed
Leaning on the wind and your courage
But there always you fed
Each child with a special knowledge
Of the world and its art
Into them you poured your heart.
And I, barefooted child
Struggling to flower in the sun
Drawn to your shade so mild
Came with you, built on what you began
And day after day we
Labored to a calling more than duty.
I came to teach the tots
And found seeds of all ages there
In stony soil and rusty pots
And I followed you to make them bear
Fruits uncommon to their lot
And found me sprouting in a pot.
It was your hand, your love
Your wisdom of kindness that rescued me
Pushed me to make my move
Along the path that shun despondency
And that day when the board
Lit up with my name, I saw your pride restored
Those thirteen JSC subjects
Was this a beginning of the times
For gold its light deflects
And the sweetest bell that chimes
Repeats the song that brims
The heart of love secret whims.
So always I serve still
The same constituents you taught
But unsatisfied till
My desire in your presence is caught
That may say thank you dear
For empowering me to rise above the fear.
If only we could do it all again,...
Drive down Highway 1,
on that day in the rain...
Stop and have lunch at the small cafe,...
shake off our wet jackets, eat our chowder,
warm ourselves....
Stare out the foggy windows,...
watching the tourists running for shelter,....
I would smile more,
not complain that our day had been spoiled by the rain....
Instead, I would rejoice, and be glad
to have spent such a fine day with you
DRIVE
A day to drive,
Coolant sunned,
Last leaves scattered,
On a pedal-fly,
Ignition lust,
On mother-piston,
Pointed beams like bone fingers,
I sit upright alone,
Dark storm racing,
Lightening spoken to.
Weary of the voric-tendonces,
The telly I left,
From Demille's close-ups,
Of Towers steel rain,
Hand holding Jumpers,
The day of the terrorist tools,
At home I got car sick,
When I was a replay witness,
And our behooved king cow poke,
Started his info-spin,
Telling a child his dad would be ok,
It's a noise vio-licked.
Beget, to begot,
A day to drive,
Needing true air,radio off,
For the ones gone
So weird how friendship blossoms
One day we’re searching strong
But then, on a day later
We know someone belongs
Belonging to the life we lead
For, would it be, without?
So weird how friendship blossoms
With you, there are no doubts
The days, they quickly come and go
who knows about tomorrow.
Will we greet another day
be touched by joy or sorrow?
Why do we waste our precious time
on things like greed and hate
when any day could be the one
we're called to Heavens' gate?
From this day on I choose to live
and fill my life with love
to share the gifts that I've received
from our Lord above.
I'll use my voice to trample hate
where ever it is heard.
Where ever there's a broken heart
I'll place a soothing word.
As these days pass quickly by
I'll do the best I can
to plant the seeds of goodness
into my fellowman.
Why are some,
so cruel with words,
do they not understand,
how deep they hurt.
Never giving thought,
how sharp their tongue,
and it's not easy,
repairing the damage done.
One day to answer,
maybe not to me,
but that day will come,
then you will see.
We got trapped for seven hours
We couldn’t un-trap ourselves
From the dungeon of the road
Couldn’t call or receive calls
Was indeed incommunicado
Sim card got stuck
Would we ever get to our destination?
She got fed up, endlessly waiting
Luck smiled on me briefly
As I got through to my cousin
Who told her of my trap
My sms met hers on the way
She was still very worried
Only short of being scared
The day crawls by gradually,
Hours tickle away slowly
Behold! Darkness hovers
As it took over the day set aside to unveil
The faces behind the phone
The day was over.
Alayande Stephen T.
2.01am
21st November, 2007
It was written at the Abuja Garage in
Iwo Road, Ibadan on my way to her in Ado-Ekiti.