Created to be different to bring about a generational change
Trauma invoked to keep most from creative conscious range
Learning being different can bring in a great feeling
It's imperative for the need to work on inner healing
That inner child help develop creative healthy happy adults
Taking chances to heal, help the experience for those results
Don't stay in the cycle of programmed victimization mode of pain
Get help to find tools and resources to turn your pain into a gain
Take accountability for your role you played while blaming/pointing a finger
Easy to blame another, sometimes they had no part of the sadness or anger
The masks worn and swopped due to your unhealed trauma
Hides a grudge that blames friends, lovers, daddy and momma
Forgive them, they experienced and lived through trauma too
Reflected their own stories, hiding with pain too shame to tell you
Each generation has suffered through the abuse and trauma program
Become your generations' survivor with the future blueprint or diagram.
Whilst pensive and serene
and seated on the loo
contentedly having
my morning number two
my serenity was shaken
torn asunder
by a massive mistake
a terrible blunder
someone had installed a new toilet-roll
hopelessly bungling this very simple op
the paper, oh horror of horrors
was not being fed from over the top
as quick as a flash
not missing a beat
I swopped it around to feed as it should
restoring my serenity with this simple feat
business now concluded
with a nod of approval I watched it unroll
but, this glaring absurdity
had taken its toll
with hands properly washed
and soap in its receptacle, right side up
I saw something else that had my nerves all ajangle
another absurdity whose jig was now up
the towel on its rail
was not folded in two
but haphazardly bunched
and hanging askew
drying my hands
I folded it neatly as it will be on show
then hung it back up
ends equidistant from the tiled floor below
leaving the bathroom a tad overwrought
I immediately felt my sanity slipping
with a nice cup of tea and some toast on my mind
my senses were assailed by the kitchen tap dripping.
If you're a straight person
Looking for a companion
You have to do your homework
To see what you're getting
Because, some men are women
And some women are men
Christopher Columbus,
Swopped his compass for a rhombus,
Embarked upon new shores with ‘Ooh arrs,’
That knocked America out with fifty stars
5/12/22
A Brian Strand Choice Poetry Contest
Form: Clerihew
Sponsor: Brian Strand
I slide and heave with gaunt brittle bones,
along this pitch fume-filled black tunnel ,
twisting, rolling, writhing in a sea of tar,
vapours hot and sticky taunt my nose,
as thoughts of orange-red sunsets,
coral pink lagoons, dream scene blue,
moon shadow are my visual anchor,
catalyst to daylight freedom quest.
here I am scrawny skeletal innocent,
squeezed like toothpaste from a tube,
into a world of pulsing urban metros,
Big Brother cameras snoop on sight,
prying eye, CCTV cadre choker.
wolves in human form fly a kite.
venal dormant czars censor skylines,
concrete jungle watchtowers scar heavens.
has this earnest gumption-driven fugitive,
swopped one form of jailer for another
Posted : 6th March 2022
I received a bag of mystery seeds in the mail
I didn't know what to do with them so,
I took them outside to be sorted out
When some birds swopped down, grab
The seeds then flew away, three days later
Some giant birds flew in my yard an sat
Suddenly,they begun to tear through my flowers
As if they were looking for something
I recognized two, from their feathers and markings
But their faces had turn into something horrific
Big budging eyes an growth covering their faces
They had turn into monsters from eating the seeds
If humans had planted the seeds to grow food
They would be ugly monsters to
Time for a de-clutter , make some room
in drawers and shelves,
Feng Shui folk swear that it makes
one feel good about oneself.
These trainers from my glory days
of racing round a track
now swopped for orthopaedic shoes
that help my calves and back.
That old Blue Stratos aftershave
for attracting women faster,
all I need now is my Gillette G3
and a box of sticking plasters.
The medallion and gold chain can go
from nineteen seventy six,
as my Medic alert tag round my neck
will not pull any chicks.
The tight briefs from back when I had
ideas above my station,
replaced with baggy boxer shorts
for better ventilation.
And should God say my time is up
and kindly call me home,
he'll find that I shall travel light-
no more need for this comb!
Once opan a time me and my friend were thinking about the legend about the old footbridge
We came acroos a river so we had to take the bridge
Because of course the water will be as cold as a fridge
Once we stepped on the foot bridge it seemed normal
But we felt a chill which made it fell paranormal
We kept on walking along the wood
And A bird swopped down and almost knocked us down from where we stood
The bird landed right behind us
And keeped motioning us to climb on
When we climbed on,the bird fly high in the sky
It was fun we couldnt denyi
The bird brought us back at the front of the bridge
We said good bye and walked on it again
But this time it rained candy
We took some and went back to the start to stop it because it would be handy
We got on and off a coulpe more times
If you really want to be exact id say about nine
The old foot bridge really earned its name
When we stepped on and off it would do something cool but sometimes candy would rain
Babbling talk of unknown words
Striking precious objects with damaging knocks
Deep cuddles to obtain wishes
Swopped roles for flying trains and planes on tracks
Familiar noises for new things
Questions by noises that are not understood
A gentle eye-rub with a curved thumb
Slight complaint for restriction
Jumps and stamps are created by a new energy ribbon
Indecisive request for nibbles
Not that one!
A determined climb to the lap
Dramatic sway of the head
One feeble dry cough
Giggle for a favourite character
A “Deh?!” for the favourite story
A “Deh?!” for milk
A tired yawn
Relaxing slump
Gone to the world
The oldest patriarch in the close family
Wise, historic, brave and a quiet shroud of dominance
I grew, I matured, I aged
He shrunk, he slowed, he aged
Age and frailty grew: worsening health
He held my arm as we walked along
I was now the carer
He was the one being cared for
The order changed
The positions had swopped
“KILLING ME AGAIN”
Once again there is none that may see
anguish and hurt deep inside;
With sparkling tears I’m killing my fears
Removing all shame I try to hide
The voices of doubt run their tirade
as they rage shouting their blame;
I’m killing my fears with sparkling tears
Struggling to deal with unceasing pain
He sees me trying to run away
while He watches from above;
With sparkling tears I’m killing my fears
Drenching myself in His grace and love
© Kim van Breda—May 2014
(My first attempt at a “ZaniLa Rhyme”—syllable count 9.7.9.9.
Line three is a repeating internal rhyme with two parts swopped every stanza)
It was first all, beautiful
And the plain blue sky spanned on either sides
With snow-white flakes drifting religiously
Over light-green steeples into a land
Beyond what my bulgy brown eyes can see
And God sat; watching
It soon turned pitiful
And beholding as in a trance a swam of famished
locust
As they swopped upon all that was green
And the orphaned cub watched it's mother's skin
sold for a farthing
While the hunters bragged, brawled and laid upon
empty bottles
And God still sat; watching
Then it became sorrowful
With the tsunami as its hits the glass towers of
China, and the famine in the dark soils of Somalia
The nuclear arsenals in the far east
Which could annihilate all that creeps
And the blood of the sackless on the tub of the elite
Apocalyptic sermons on all corners;
Yet evil, even on holy ground nests gallantly.
And God still sits .........
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