The leaders of some countries
lie and deny the genocide
perpetrated by their military
despite the evidence being bona fide
yet those disliked
they don't even know
but want to annihilate
as a dangerous foe
unfortunately it shows
when he goes on the warpath
with ethnic cleansing
it's only the victims who take a bath
Time is meaningful, yet
unimportant to some people.
Some people worry about
how fast time goes by on a
clock, while others do not
worry. The people that are
worrying are frightened
that they will not get
everything finished or
completed that day. Others
have nothing to do, so they
do not worry at all and they
relax. They watch movies,
read books, take a bath or
a shower and even play
with their dog(s) or cat(s).
They don’t need to stress
over anything, worry about
work, or getting everything
done on time.
Mom's on the warpath,
"Get inside and take a bath"
(She says she wants us clean).
"Then put on your PJs and go to bed."
I turned that logic on its head.
(I'll tell you what I mean.)
Why should we wash up when
we'll just get dirty once again?
(That's using the 'ol bean!)
"Pretty clouds filled with water, then it rains down." By Poet
My pretty pink rose garden is wilting,
they need a drink and a bath.
Fluffy gray clouds let it rain down,
sweet rose scent fills the air.
As the rain drifts off,
puddles stay behind.
Now birds can drink and take a bath.
I want to take a bath in your soul
Is that so much to ask for.
We love playing in the street
To escape the summer heat
On this day we walk to the park
Feeding chicks who stole our hearts
Suddenly the weather did change
We got caught shoes off in the rain
No need to fret for the animals don’t
Not upset we sing a rainy day song
Splash splash near the duck pond
They take a bath as we carry on
Find a double puddle to splash in
Left foot right foot jump and grin
There’s a rainbow in the sky
And we make great mud pies
A bright day and there’s still sun
Dancing in rain we have much fun
Grandma’s ghost has taken up
knitting rattlesnakes in the drapes.
They hiss when someone lies.
Now, my mother only speaks
in noodle metaphors.
I ask her how she is, and she replies,
al dente, then goes back
to stirring the aquarium water
she'll later take a bath in.
My sister gives birth
to a daughter who levitates
during thunderstorms.
She answers to the name Unclaimed Bag.
In other words, we all gather once a year
to shed what’s left of politeness,
to laminate new rules:
No bleeding at the table.
Far less mirrors in the fruit salad.
All grudges must be gift-wrapped,
left at the door with the shoes,
with the husbands.
And when it’s over,
we nod like diplomats,
swap our favorite spells,
(that is to say recipes), pretend
we don't notice the fresh claw marks
on the floor.
It ends when we remember
our names again, who we are.
Then we leave—
each of us, in a different skin.
I came in from the fields to take a bath.
Taking off my worn clothes I stared aghast.
They were so stained and filthy, torn and worn
That I looked for a way to get new clothes.
Sadly, I was poor without a penny.
I looked and saw the old chains on my feet.
These kept me bound to a cruel master.
I would not be free after my life passed.
I walked by the place where the lamb was killed.
And in quiet desperation I threw
My clothes into the place where its blood spilled.
Quickly, I pulled them out and stared in shock.
They were made new and bleached whiter than snow.
I put them on in surprise and in hope
And found the chains had fallen from my feet.
I danced to the mirror and realized
That the blood of the Lamb made me new born.
Foggy morning
Affect my heart
And feel the cold.
Start my day
I walk a mile
To get warm up.
The sun is up
I take a bath
Ready for work.
Side of the road
I wait for bus
To get to work.
While rain not yet come
You already have umbrella
Atop your head.
I know you have many rain
That you have pass by
You use to take a bath happy.
The rain washes all worries
And cleanse all past behind
Coming home healthy.
The wind peers with rain
Smashing my dirty face with rage
To cleanse this life once again.
He fell asleep in the bath
When he was drunk
Slept so long
His body shrunk
To such a small
Miniscule size
He couldnt be seen
By human eyes.
When he awoke
It was far too late
For him to avoid
His horrible fate.
His wife pulled the plug
Allowing the water to send
Him down the drain
And round the bend.
For a year she was
An abandoned wife
And then she got on
With the rest of her life
There’s a moral to this story
Don’t take a bath take a shower
There’s no chance of falling asleep
And it uses far less power.
Rung out
before you unfurl the rag
It's a muddled mess of colored cotton
It's just a mash in your wet
hands
In that moment it is nothing
crumpled nothing
But
Once unfurled it can again find purpose
be useful
an agent of change
with potential to bring in the light
Alter the view
remove the aged dust
That one rag can change things
Clean the room
Whipe away everything
One little crumpled rag can completely change
a room
and it can most definitely change you
Take a bath
Be a crumpled wet rag
and then
unfurl....see what you can do after the storm
There is an urban legend
surfacing somewhere on the islands
that I am a possessor of a converted
fountain of youth deep inside
my bedroom closet
and every year on my birthday
I would take a bath
into its calming spring waters
enclosing the mystical essence
behind my perpetual childlike appearance
I have no time Melinda argues
You need to take time for you, we tell her.
I am way to busy! She shrieks.
She is on her own last nerve.
We see it.
One aunt says she will watch the two-year-old twins.
A great-grandma offers to take the new baby home for the day.
Grandma wants to do her laundry.
We are all rebuffed.
Melinda is the only one who can do any of that.
She is frazzled, frenzied, and frantic.
We have seen postpartum before.
You really need to take some time for yourself we tell her.
A doctor’s visit might be in the works.
I am too busy! Melinda argues. “I cannot see a doctor!”
We are at a loss.
We cannot force a grown woman to take time for herself.
To relax, take a bath, play soft music.
Sadly, her entire family is suffering now.
Today is the day.
The day to put in records.
The day of extrication.
The day of riddance.
My albums are clean.
Swept them before dawn.
My archives are clean.
I reviewed it down.
The photos she left with me.
My ex girlfriend.
All down to ashes.
I set them ablaze.
The rags and tatters.
She left in my wardrobe.
All I set afire.
I watched them turn black.
The chronicle trash she made.
All I want to forget.
I want to take a bath
Back to the market I'm going.
?@ Tha Formidable Cheru.
#themonk.
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