There are so many words
I’m not sure which are true
I don’t know who I am
Or what part of me is you
There are so many ways
I just can’t figure out
So I guess I know what’s certain
Is a life much lived in doubt
There are so many words
I’m not sure which are true
I don’t know who I am
Or what part of me is you
There are so many ways
I just can’t figure out
So I guess I know what’s certain
Is a life much lived in doubt
The way I see it
My reality is fine
And the way you see it
That business ain’t mine.
I’ll devour these words
Every damn letter
The dot on the i
The curve of the e
YUM, there ain’t much better
I’ll sip the t
I’ll crunch in the d
I’ll grind my teeth on the c and the p
So nothing’s more scrumptious
Than writing on the wall
What they say, who bloody cares
Each word, I’ll eat them all.
“I’ll tell of this love that I know”
She said to me one day
“So please, if your will should allow
Listen and hear what I have to say”
She spoke of the soil cushioning her
The grass tickling her ears
The sunflower towering above her
Yellow soothing and easing her fears
She told me of seeds and their spurt
How spirit moves heavens on earth
And the force that grounds deep roots
Is the same as us knowing our worth
“Don’t forget you are no different”
Her whispers I still hear
“What makes the sunset so beautiful
Is you seeking you, my dear”
And with all this love that I know
From the listened word, not spoken
I conclude that I was, all along
Whole, not once ever broken.
A herb a day
Keeps the doctor away
And calls in the witches
The white and the green
The rosemary sprig
The kiwi, the fig
All help keep me glowing
Through times hitting hard
The end of the tunnel
The light in my funnel
Isn’t further than reach
As we’re told it can be
And this delight I feel
I didn’t earn it nor steal
It’s a thought that I had
And decided to keep
When my health starts to tip
Herbal tea I do sip
And imagine my body
To be sparkly and well
It’s not easy to write when you’ve nothing to say
I pretty much face this dilemma each day
But as problems go, it’s not so big
There’s larger worries for a slaughter bound pig
Or the grass that’s brown from no rain for a week
Or the alcoholic who’s reached their peak
So writing something, a prose or two
Is just filling my time with something to do
So over and out, this poem I’ll end
Instead I’ll find something to break and then mend.
Give 100% and you’ve no where to go
60%?
“No way, too low”
40% and you’re off the scale
10%? Hanging on by a nail
30%?
Yea, that’ll do…
If you’re frail and starving or struck down by flu
There’s always 50, the happy between
For the average, make doers, not large but not lean
80% gets a tap on the head
And 20% gets our arse outta bed
90%, that seems pretty high…
“Can’t push for 100?? Tut tut, oh my”
70 then, that’ll have to do
“70 might, at a push, get you through”
1%, 12 or 103!
What number grades best when I’m just being me?
That’s all.
Because the birds can fly
It makes me question things
Why was I born a human?
When I dream of having wings.
I would take off everyday
Hearing nothing but the breeze
No toes to break anymore
Nor more grazing of my knees.
Never wishing I was someplace else
As I’d soar across the sand
I’d be free to coast the ocean
And my garden’s where I land.