10am
It’s just not an easy word
It makes my skin crawl
everytime I hear it
Makes me cry because I know
You’re not coming back
I’ve gotten close to so many
Some are still here
some gone and
some are in transition
What a miserable word
I don’t understand how this
is part of God’s design for my
life.
Why does everyone do this?
why can’t you do the opposite?
Like a caged bird I have to
set you free.
I’d rather keep your feathers
bright and glossy
but I can’t
I’d rather you return to me
teach me more lessons
But instead-
I’ll see you coursing the skies from afar
never coming near again, but always there
on the outside looking in
there if I need someone to talk to
but not able to reply again
There it is again
my skin’s crawling
It’s getting closer and closer
Is there a way to push it back?
We’ve had a good run-
we’ve learned from each other
I’m not going to stand in your way
You have to go where led.
The time is at hand and I know
this is it.
I don’t want to say it
I can’t say it
I can tell you have a hard time
with it too.
Let’s just make it short and sweet
Goodbye
Mixture
First, take what survived germination,
Salvaging senses of self,
Sieving out tempers and traumas,
Smooth fractured surfaces,
Compact all together for the next stage.
Second, place on the lowest shelf,
Wait protracted periods to notice a rise,
When sinking occurs wait longer,
Be careful lest ingredients turn on themselves,
Not every mixture makes it past this point.
Third, notice which form is being taken
Poignant possibilities or none at all,
Casino kitchen bordered with fate,
Some change and some remain,
Nothing looks like the book’s examples.
Fourth, now some can begin to split off,
Luring and enticing variety into its mix
Such a composition, volatile at best
Changing it forever or spreading too thin
Yet fermenting a crust to show outside.
Finally, the process is always too quick,
Mistakes build unexpected taste,
Recipe is fixed and too late to change,
Carrying off with garnished presentation,
Never able to explain the steps you put in.
Hour 2: Recipe for Heartache
You’ll need,
- Love
- Desperation
- Music
- Musings
- Hope
Use a good deal of love, don’t be shy and pour in your entire heart
Now let it sit and turn sour
A few hours
Before it turns it to desperation,
And aspirations, rise to melancholic notes
‘Oh how she dotes, and quotes my favorite lines’
Say it with sighs, and that brings us to rueful musings
Pick a bowl of your choosing,
And pour the last of your hope
Viola!
Does it hurt yet?
Dreams of a poet
My heart is in a bit of a mess right now
Trying to find out where my calling is
I write poems and i feel delighted as i express my feelings
But despite all this i still have a duty to those who bore me
Their intention i become a lawyer and stand before judges
But i see myself creating a name for myself like the poets Maya Angelou and others
I want to be able to command authority with authority and make myself known around the world
I want to create a place in which there will be no sorrow and pain
I want to mould hearts and making us one living in togetherness bound by love and not race
But deep down i know being in the court will make me bound by some rules
I will have to live my life based on the rule of law and the codes of a lawyer and not by how many lives i can impact on or change the world with the words from my voice
But as i try i know it’s a gamble and only one can win and that’s passion i will get their degree and make them proud and i will still preach my gospel to the world against all odds
Hour 2 Recipe for Mental Freedom
What you will need
- Peace of mind
- A place to live
- A body of water
- A scenic view
- Serenity
Let’s try a new dish,
How about a piece of mental freedom,
You would think all we need is peace of mind.
We need a little more than that in these times,
But please make sure you have enough because we might need a ton,
A place to live is always a good touch,
And a body of water to calm the mind.
That’s what I’m talking about,
Add a little more of that peace of mind,
A scenic view to escape to will do just fine.
Don’t be afraid, you know we need more,
Keep pouring that peace of mind,
Make sure you mix it well it has to be just right.
Finally, we can add a little bit of that serenity,
Now let’s put it in to bake,
We will see how that mental freedom takes shape.
Mmmm mmmm, that peace of mind sure smells delightful,
That place to live gave it the right scent,
And that body of water makes even more enticing.
I just can’t wait for that scenic view to bake right on in,
I hope it makes you feel more at ease,
That serenity will definitely make you go head over heels.
All done and ready now would you look at that,
It came out just right on the first try,
A piece of cake and in no time.
I hope you remember the recipe for next time,
I’m sure you will need it another time,
But for now enjoy your piece of mental freedom.
Sonnet 25
Thy serpent tongue twists all thy truths to lies
And devil’s gleam lies content in thyne eye,
But that won’t shift my heart: I fail to try,
For when thou art near, what I feel, oh my!
I know thou cheat: life is a game to thee
Where all who surrounds ye is pushed and pulled.
That is what thou do to the heart of me!
I see thee, talk to thee- happiness filled.
I don’t care if they say thou art a fox,
One that shall only break my unseen heart:
Loving thee has made me strong as an ox,
Losing thee shall cause pain with I’d ne’er part.
Though my love for thou doth thrive in sin,
Do know that nothing can change what’s within.
10:00 AM Poem
Elizabeth Wingert
2. Forget About Today Until Tomorrow And Maybe Forget It Then, Too
when our maps became obsolete
when sudden mountains rose
and highways exploded
and dreams disintegrated
we became people living
on a threshold
beyond which we cannot imagine
except that one day this will be history
that some laughing people
bearing our genetic traces
will never think about
unless it’s on a test
they will never remember.
Strength Comes in Doses
Life has a way of over baking.
Without warning the timer has gone off
and you still putz along not knowing that
everything is crisping at the edges.
Good thing your soul is full of
pink sunrises, bird song, and meaningful prayers
filling in small increments a life lived so
when the tears rim your sad eyes
you realize your disaster isn’t the end
and your strength has come in small doses
urging you to try again.
Lockdown Special
Ingredients, you will need:
1x Global Pandemic
2x parents who’ve just got used to having the house to themselves
1x son who can’t stand having to leave the delights of the city for his parents house in the countryside
1x son with pretensions of being a comedian
1x enclosed space for all of them to cook together.
Start with your pandemic, season it liberally with panic, fear and panic buying of supplies.
Individually flavour the other ingredients with vastly varying flavours. examples include liberal attitudes to nudity, differing political viewpoints and an inability to deal with other opinions.
Lock up all ingredients in the confined space for several months. make sure to heat well with large amounts of sunshine but do not allow them outside for more than 1 hour a day.
Begin loudly pointing out all the fun things that your ingredients would be doing if they were literally anywhere else.
Let the comedian son write out a series of poems based on how frustrating he is finding everything. For extra spice, add several disparaging and thinly disguised descriptions of members of his family.
Mix said poetry with three bottles of wine at dinner. Make sure you stir well to let out all the buried resentment from the last 20 years. Sprinkle a few “OK Boomer” comments and serve with a long rant about Millennial snowflakes.
Bon appetite