Don’t be a Cinderfella
I aint no Cinderella
get off your **** and mow
don’t watch the weeds all grow.
Now if we’re being truthful
I need you to be useful
cause I don’t need no boy
I don’t want no toy.
I need a real damn man
who likes to lend a hand
someone to meet my needs
not afraid to take the lead.
If you can’t bring to the table
everything you are able
then take a bloody hike
get on ya pussy bike.
Don’t need no Cinderfella
cause I aint no Cinderella
I like to get things done
throw in a little fun.
A real man provides protection
has a real connection
Is a calm within the storm
has a heart that’s really warm.
A real man aint no Cinderfella
He shouldn’t need no Cinderella.
It earns its place under the sun in May -
A tiny speck against the evergreen.
Nourished by raindrops poised for its display,
Slim but what Glory! In grand Nature’s scene.
In summer lush the flowers take the lead,
They have it all - a beauty and such scent.
Leaf in the woods, reluctant to concede,
Assumes supporting role in full consent.
In Autumn flash the leaf - a centrepiece,
Its pulsing palette wins and takes it all…
All Nature bends to seasonal caprice,
Leaf in the woods, from triumph to the fall.
Succumbs to weather whims, weak and worn-out,
It’s fleeting life leaves nothing but a doubt.
August 11, 2026
Letting her take the lead
Her every command l obay
Their in her hour of need
Be it night or be it day
Perhaps off each other we feed
Neither of us willing to walk away
At these times seems hard to read
Never listening to what shed say
Though not your tipcal pedigree
Still her mind game l then play
Perhaps l am an unusal breed
Never the sort to stray
If I take a book and read
And the initiative and I lead
Or if I finish a book I’ve already read
I am a follower if I've not lead
So, if I’ve read
But don’t take the lead
Because I’ve already been lead
To what I currently read
Depending on the context
Or the speech
Lead can be lead and read read
(It can also be read Pb)
A tower carved from heavy stone,
It braves the raging, timeless sea,
Where ancient wooden ships were blown,
By winds that whistled wild and free.
The keeper climbs the spiral stairs,
To trim the wick and light the flame,
Through bitter frost and salty air,
To guide the ships without a name.
With whale-oil fire and iron gears,
It pierced the heavy, choking fog,
A savior through the passing years,
Recorded in the Captain's log.
Through naval wars and trading booms,
The lens revolved with steady grace,
To rescue crews from watery tombs,
And mark this rugged, lonely place.
Though modern beams now take the lead,
The weathered structure stands sublime,
A monument to human need,
Defying all the rust of time.
It’s opening day (that’s for baseball);
The season’s officially here,
With fans set to flock to the ball fields
To watch, buying hot dogs and beer.
If life were compared to a ball game,
Each inning a decade or so,
We’d root for our home team, while knowing
The game’s sometimes boring and slow.
Yet other times, there is excitement
And we take the lead in the score,
Without any way of predicting
What action is waiting in store.
There’s a break in the 7th for stretching,
When the game’s cut as if by a knife,
Which is like when it’s time to retire
And confront what is left of your life.
Then the players get back in position,
The outcome still up in the air,
But there isn’t much time to the finish
And perhaps not much power to spare.
Now my husband’s a bit of a joker;
This baseball/life theme’s his, not mine,
Yet when he said we’re in the 9th inning*,
I knew I would pilfer that line.
*The title is what he actually said about
where we’re at, which cracked me up…
Salsa classes
I learned to dance at
family and friend’s parties.
I learned by watching.
Not very structured.
When I dance with my husband;
he complains that I don't let him lead.
My mom taught me,
women should be in control.
I danced like this for many years.
At 50, following my soul's desire.
I took my first salsa class.
What a surprise!
Maybe,
my husband was right.
Just let the other take the lead.
Let go and flow.
Perhaps. I can change
my unconscious dance
into a more harmonious
sensual movement
In deep sleep, when both mind and senses recede,
identity disappears, yet we exist
in an unknown state where bliss beats take the lead
but on waking up we know not of the mist.
One without a second, outside space and time,
our formless presence is synced with God’s love chime,
which is why we wake up feeling so refreshed,
till trapped by ego, we are in thoughts enmeshed.
simple chords holding her music together in the form of a forgotten book
the cover hanging off. tied on by determination and love of music
simple cords, her grandmother used to say, make it easy to listen to
she was a patient loving woman who mastered a piano in every showroom
the torch had been passed, and Sophie was now the family maestro
all musical ability had bypassed her mother and her siblings
her satin ruffled dress made a crispy sound as she shuffled to the bench
the orchestra was waiting for her to take the lead.
Simple chords she whispered under her breath
feeling her grandmother next to her.
To dwell on something could really drive you mad
Thinking about it over and over can really make you sad
As easy as it is for us to breathe in and breathe out
Really that's what letting something go is all about
We ponder over it making it bigger than it has to be
Allowing negative feelings or animosity take the lead
Its not that serious because changes can be made
Being able to let it go gives our forgiveness a gauge
Holding on to a matter will only sir up contention
Try to let days go by without the matter mentioned
No one or anything should steal your sleep at night
Just let it go if you're not planning to make it right
Rather you're over it or not is only for you to know
Your soul would be much happier if you just let it go
Hold firm resolve, to remain still,
gentling thought, word and deed,
that thus by relinquishing will,
we let love take the lead.
Awake dear heart, awake
Be tranquil like a lake
Our soul’s growth is at stake
If we’d evolve
Hold firm resolve
plugging energy leak
we see we’re strong not weak
the ‘we’ we allude to
is bliss that does renew
pervading every cell
in this body-mind shell
so as God’s magnetism
in this organic prism
as bliss beats take the lead
fears and desires recede
thus we become the flame
here now in life’s end game
In ancient times, a tale unfolds,
Of Jael, brave and bold.
In Deborah’s song, let’s sing along
"Most blessed of women be Jael,
Most blessed in tents they dwell"
She broke the norms, defied the rules,
With courage, not in ships of fools
Inviting Sisera to her tent,
A deadly blow, her intent.
With hammer and peg, she struck him down,
Her bravery, in history, renown.
God's purpose clear, her actions just,
In Him, she placed her trust.
For God can use the least of us,
To fulfill His plans, so marvelous.
From Rahab's aid to David's stone,
From Paul's past to Matthew's loan,
Each story shows, without a doubt,
God's justice, He'll bring about.
So let us learn from Jael's deed,
To act with courage, take the lead.
Sisera a picture of our sin, said Spurgeon
With peg to the ground nail it down
Jesus struck the victory blow on the cross
When Satan thought he’d won, he really lost
For in our hearts, His purpose lies,
With faith and strength, with Him we’ll rise.
Oh my love, I imagine how the world would be
if everyone decided to give peace a chance
if you stand by me we'll break out in dance
every woman man and child would be set free
from the tyranny of injustices and greed
we'd remember it's up to each of us to take the lead
Oh my love, imagine how the world would be
if we'd all realize that in our hand we hold the key
AP: 2nd place 2025, 2nd place 2025, 3rd place 2025
In poverty's grip, we struggle to stand
Delays in church programmes, with empty hand
No money, no food, yet we accuse the night
Ignorance abounds, in futile fight
"Kill it! Die by fire!" we cry in vain
While future's labour, we refrain
Little wonder poverty's dark veil remains
As Africans pray, while Chinese innovate and sustain
China rises, in tech's mighty stride
Creating jobs, and a future to abide
But we, in ignorance, our potential waste
Forgetting scripture's wise and timeless taste
"Faith without work is dead," it's written true
Yet churchgoing sleep, won't see us through
Breakthroughs need hard work, consistent and real
Not just fervent cries, or emotional zeal
Balance we seek, between work and prayer
Engaging hands, not just fervent air
For faith alone, without labour's might
Leaves dreams to wither, in endless night
Let's strike the balance, and take the lead
Work and faith, in harmony we'll proceed
No more delays, no more empty cries
A brighter future, with hard work's wise eyes.
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