I sent a few words
Wondering if they would merely be
Returned to sender
You added your words
Turning incompleteness complete
And sent them to me
Tag writing
Small World
My days are your nights
When I fall asleep
You awake
While I am wrapped up
From the cold
You are warm
I read your words
And you read mine
We are worlds away
But very near
❤️
Flowing River
Take the world
But leave me stories
Never let the well run dry
Bless me with a flowing river
Until my words become alive
Boiling Point
The feelings simmer as
Words begin to bubble
Mixing as they begin
To boil, the tension rises
Heat gets hotter
Rushing quicker, faster
Pressure building –
Boiling point
Painting with Words
Crimson paint is splashed across the crisp, clean fabric of a nation’s flag – the last works of a man before being tied to a cross and shot – the dripping of wet paint as red as the blood that flows through veins paints its picture without words, and as the canvas dries, the pumping of the blood throughout the body slows, until it eventually stops.
Execution Night
In the next few hours while some of us are asleep, nine souls are going to be tied to a cross and shot. Dead. Amongst them, brothers, sons, husbands, fathers, a daughter and mother.
People will say they did the crime, now do the time. They are going to be doing the time. By paying with the rest of their lives.
Myuran Sukumaran, a reformed man (if only because he was caught), will refuse a head mask. He will be facing his executioners until he can no longer see. Hands and feet bound, there will be nowhere to go.
Nine cheap coffins have been delivered. White coffins to match their white clothes. White clothes with a target sign to mark their heart. Their dying day has already been engraved on a wooden cross to mark their lives.
They know the date, they know the time, they know the manner in which they will die. And now all they have to do is wait. Until their hearts are peppered with bullets. Ten shooters for each soul, three with live ammunition *so that no one knows who fired the final fatal shot*
And those that refuse mercy, will have dinner, and sleep, and live their lives. Perhaps watch with satisfaction the agony of the mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers and children left behind. Content with their hearts untouched by bullets, and untouched by mercy too.
Thank You!
Thank you for all the kind wishes sent my way. The WordPress community is really wonderful, am so touched to have received so many kind words and wishes from souls living in different parts of the world, people I’ve never met, the kindness and community spirit is overwhelming!
You have helped to make my day very special, I am filled with gratitude, thank you!
This cute little puppy belongs to my best friend, her name is Charlie, I received these photos this morning to wish me happy birthday!
🌷🌸💐🌸🌷
Note to Self
Just one step forward
I cannot
Endure for awhile
I dare not
Persevere
I choose not
I cannot tell you what to do
But if you cannot, dare not, choose not
Follow your heart until it can, dares and chooses to
Share Your World — Week 15
Regarding your fridge, is it organized or a mess inside?
It has been cleared out, so it is semi-organized. We have yoghurt (natural, no-sugar), some cheese, milk, watermelon, salad, tomatoes, feta, and aubergines as part of the current inventory. Um, let me go check:
Who am I kidding, it’s a mess! I missed the fish oil tablets, and cream because my husband is only drinking coffee with cream of late (long story). And dubious cauliflower, not sure how fresh it is. I’m not the world’s greatest housekeeper, that’s for sure. I’d rather spend my time writing. On a positive note though, I do have my dream pantry after a good friend of mine organised it for me. And it’s been organised for two weeks already.
Have you ever been a participant in a parade? What did you do?
I’ve wracked my brain, but can’t recall the last time I was in a parade (sorry!)
How do you stand out from the crowd?
I don’t. I fly low. At a school club meeting the other day (meeting for school moms), I must have been the only one who didn’t say a word. The others must have wondered if I understand English. I do 🙂
How many bones, if any, have you broken?
I broke my collarbone when I was five, and jumped off the bed. My mother was out and we had a babysitter looking after us. It was really painful. I also had dental surgery a few years back. It involved breaking my jaw. That was really painful too.
Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
Can I pass on these questions for a while please? I’m not in a good frame of mind even through all the encouragement. I really appreciate all the kind words and wishes sent my way. But I do not want to be parting from my blog and writing. I have only lately (as in the past few months) realised how much I’ve always written (acknowledging that it was writing albeit not poetry). To prove the point, here are a few letters I found sorting out cupboards. They were written to my grandmother from when I learnt to write from age 7 all through school. My grandmother kept them, and they were returned to me when she passed.
Thank you for reading, and thank you for all your well wishes and kindness!
❤
A Dialogue
I wrote a poem
And sent it to a friend
He said
The Falls, they are Niagara
I said
You know well, have you seen them?
He said
I have seen many places in the States
I said
I have not
He said
Last month I earned enough to buy two yachts
I said
I did not
He said
I could take you there
I said
I cannot go
He said
One day?
I said
Maybe
