I climbed the highest mountain, that’s Where
Or the highest stairs in search of you and your art
Which is lovely and unique, all because of thou,
My inspiration, the reason of my existence, my Muse,
We’ve experience a lot of things together, I know that
We’ve crossed half the world and the oceans, my thou
With you time doesn’t matter, everything else forget’st
In this world or the next, our paths will always cross, so
Till death do us part, for as long as we both live, that long
“The whole world takes a rain check” – You Are In Nearly Every Future by Noah Falck.
I think this means that everything has its own time, which we cannot influence or force. We just have to be patient. It will happen when it should. Like being in love with a certain person and it wasn’t reciprocated. It might break our heart, but we cannot force ourselves to the said person. He’s taking a rain check, or saying sorry, but he doesn’t feel the same way. He might not even know you exist or he has other things on his mind.
“And call it the cloud of my unknowing” – Dream of Heaven by Chard deNiord.
There are lots of things we don’t really know. OK, we all go to school to learn things, but most of them don’t really go in our head. And even though we learn something, everyone has a different interpretation of the things they know or not know. Everyone has its own opinion and everyone sees the world in a different way. I think motivation, relevance, importance, necessities, priorities, culture, tradition and others play some roles.
she wakes up late to face the world
on this nifty day, her clock is ticking
her bare feet flew merrily as she whirled
it’s going to be a great day, she sings with zing
in spite of all that beauty may disown
takes a shower, has a cherry for breakfast
someone rings, her voice skips on the phone
and pauses like a pencil, puts it down calmest
decides what dress, hat and shoes to wear
everything in her own pace and sequence
sits down and inserts a pin in her hair
and waits for some sort of suspense
outside she hears a knock on the door
the postman delivers letters and a white parcel
what can it be and who sends it, she’s unsure
and on this special day, too, she’s as baffle
a 24 carat gold chain from him
he remembered, she thought
large tears in her eyes brimmed
they shouldn’t have fought
The clock is ticking
What yo’ gwine t’ do when de lamp burn down – What Yo’ Gwine T’ Do? By Anon
Your voice skipped and paused like a pencil – Spain by Major Jackson
In spite of all that beauty may disown – Steamboats Viaducts and Railways by William Wordsworth
I am a shell
Leaving a fragrance
Great days long dead
I am a shell of my former self
My life’s like an empty bookshelf
I used to be happy, great days long dead
My spirit’s broke, my heart’s bled
Leaving a fragrance of hope, emitting despair
Need to plead, help might come from somewhere
Pillow-fighting with my bear, hurting my pelvis
Makes me careless, sees the world as cruelness
What is the essence of living if I’m unhappy?
Perhaps miracle happens to set myself free
Vandalism of stuff, crying for help
Give me a hug as I utter some yelp
It’s his wish to escape from grey walls and sky
With some supplies, he said goodbye
Traversing the forests, crossing the deserts
Even though he’s alone and a non-expert
Scaling mountains, negotiating some icebergs
From Heidelberg to Petersburg to Hamburg
Up and down, this and that way, never stopping
Never looking back, straight ahead he goes
Such determination you see on his face
In every movement too swift to count
Wandering, too impatient to halt
Until he reached his destination
He stopped and with a sigh
He yelled: “I’ve done it!”
Our neighbours were having a grill party and we were invited. We brought some salad and some meat and sausages to grill, plus a nice bottle of wine. Other neighbours were there, too. I was cornered by Paul and Kim in one corner, talking about how our lives were intertwined and the science of love. They got carried away, sort of like evangelical people as advertised on television. They rambled on their teaching on love. For them, love has different meanings for dissimilar people and in diverse conditions. Love was sacred and we shouldn’t take it for granted. I just nodded and from time to time made some noise of agreement or disagreement or to say that I was still with them. Until some time that I found some excuse to go and mingle with other neighbours. (137 words)
Donya Aurora was celebrating her 70th birthday with the family. They were having a quiet family feast, using her silver cutlery, crystal glasses and Wedgewood plates and dishes. The table was elegantly prepared by the butler and the cook, with bronze candlesticks that have been passed on to her by her grandmother. She was very delighted. All her children and grandchildren were there and she was proud of them all.
Bash, the eldest son was the flamboyant lead singer of the famous Mega Quake rock-and-roll band. Fitting with his personality, he was wearing a black trench coat and black combat boots, which he had designed and made for this occasion. His nieces and nephew idolized him.
Mariel, the second one, was the virtuous spinster who went to mass every day without fail. And when she wasn’t in the church, she spent her time in her garden of serenity. She was a meticulous gardener. She was also her mother’s constant companion.
Then there was Concepcion, a single mother of four (Armand, Bernadette, Cathy and Dorothy), with two different fathers. She was now on her virtuous cycle – no alcohol, no smoking and not looking for the third father of her children. (200 words)
We make our way back to her beginnings
With her luggage she asked for our blessings
Off she goes to places no one knows
Even if she froze, as long as she grows
Curiosity is a useful gift and keeping her go
She has to start as early as the cockcrow
She knows she can’t just stand still
It’s a drill she does with all our goodwill
Keep going forward to reach some place
She even goes to retrace her birthplace
Motivation is a very significant factor
She knows what to do, she’s not a bragger
And determination to succeed, she adds
Like one of the wanderers or nomads
Oh to be a woman in Ancient Greece
I have few rights and might go into pieces
My husband or brothers have their decision
Over me for my protection but such a confusion
I have no work to go to, gosh, what do I do now?
I wish I was in the Philippines, right about now
I can find my own pace with the flow of grace
How I desire I can snigger them in the face
I miss my favourite plaything from childhood
If she won’t, someone else will chop the wood
I have to stay indoors and run our households
Bored are what we are and feeling very old
For until it gets on paper, memory’s short-lived
Veracity through wits is the world’s short-sieved
Egon Bland parked his old Cadillac in front of the restaurant. This is his 60th restaurant. Normally, he goes to different factories or buildings. He travelled all over the country – on sandy beaches, in the city centres and in places where sometimes there were no electricity. This restaurant is a charming Italian one near the marina.
“Good morning, Mr. Bland, nice to see you again,” greeted Costanzo, the owner.
“Good morning, I hope you followed what I advised you to do from my last visit,” said Egon.
“Of course, we did, Mr. Bland. Come and see,” as Costanzo led Egon to the premises.
Egon inspected the area, ticked the ones he thought were an improvement from the last time he was here and let Costanzo signed the form informing him that the restaurant has passed the inspection and clear to carry on with the business.
Costanzo was pleased and invited Egon to have a meal on the house. “We just have this freshly caught fish and our chef can cook it to perfection, ” announced Costanzo proudly.
“Thanks, looking forward to it. As Pablo Picasso said, If only we could pull out our brain and use only our eyes. I have to add nose and mouth to that. Cheers, Costanzo!”