Category Archives: poem

The mind of me.

Howling winds, raging storms.
A blizzard , a tornado

A cyclone , a typhoon
A lot of water, a flood of rivers.

That’s my mind today.
Untamed , wild unrestrained.

Hyperactive yet deficit in attention.
Glosses over all stops for none.

My mind the boiling cauldron
Bubbly water overflowing it’s brims.

Who will walk on this stormy sea
What will bring calm to this raging storm.

Jazz for a lullaby
Or an orchestra for a calming session

An opera for a distraction
Or pop music to drown out my own noise.

©Fr

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I survived

I survived
Thru a broken heart and a lost love
Thru a failed promise and an unfulfilled dream
I survived.

I survived
Thru a mindless rage and an unforgiving spirit.
Thru untold suffering and pain
I survived.

I survived
Thru sleepless nights and headache filled days,
Thru ferocious storms and scary landslides (in my mind)
I survived

I survived grief and loss
I survived a failed marriage and a sickly child.

I survived but only by grace
I survived but only by Mercy
I survived but only by love
I survived thru it all

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Francois

Thoughts of the Philosopher

Dark skies and clear skies,

Thunder storms and bright days,

Moody days and happy days,

Nature you can’t change, but your disposition to it you can change.

 

Daily secrets and weekly public announcements,

Everyday paranoia and the continuous need to connect,

Weekly fighting and daily make ups,

That’s how friendships are built and relationships sustained.

 

One word to soothe, one essay to scorn,

Tears to empathize, laughter to advance mockery,

A sigh can mean relief and can also be despair.

Guard your hearts, guard your thoughts; for out of the abundance of thoughts , emotions are let loose.

 

The Gift

At the peak of pleasure was the foundation laid.
In the throes of passion was the journey begun.
It was formed in darkness and grows in silence.
It had life because the creator willed it so.

It was a prayer but now a reality .
It was formless but that was just the beginning.
It will have shape and structure when it reaches the end.
Wrapped in fragile tissue housed in delicate flesh.

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Don’t spoil the surprise with a peek under the hood.
It always pays to wait and be hit by the surprise.
Its a long wait , yes, but its worth the time.
The quiet prayers, the gentle touches, the expectant looks all part of the gift.

Its a gift received with utmost joy.
But it is opened in painful groans and moans.
With screams and shouts of pain the wrapping is shredded.
When its stripped bare, there is a  cry, shrill and soul piercing.

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It signals a glorious new life, God’s perfect gift to mere mortals.

Francois

Its Complicated

I understand you,
At least I think I do.
And that informs why I do somethings,
Its because I think you might like them.

Allow me my “lie”.
Even if you think I don’t understand you.
Because in my “lie” , I make effort.
Take away my reality and I loose my reason to try.

My “lie” is my reality.
It’s my hope for an awesome relationship.
Its my practice of knowing you
Its my trial at meeting your needs.

I know I know you.
You might think otherwise.
But you will read this and smile.
And that is how I know ,I know u.

FREEDOM LOST

I listened and heard,
But I didn’t understand.
I looked and saw,
But I didn’t perceive.
Slavery reinvented and redefined
Children traded for their innocence.
Adults sold for their strength.
Who buys , who sells ?
The ones who look for soft skin and the eyes full of fear.
The ones who look for cheap labour and profit above welfare.
Its in plain sight but we see it not
Its before our very eyes yet we comprehend it not.
It has built companies and sustained economies.
Child Sex slaves in Asia and Latin America.
Adult labour slaves in the middle east and eastern Europe.
Africa and its child brides
North America and its drug slaves.
We talk now or we talk no more
We shout now or we drown in cries later.
What is wrong is wrong.
Man should make no slaves of his own specie.
Thats my creed and that should be yours .

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I will think about it.

I will think about it.

 

The never ending chorus 

To an answer not forthcoming.

The song of delay 

The birth of procrastination.

 

A chorus heard often but never really understood.

It is the answer that puts at ease

The answer that gives no result.

I will think about it and get back to you.

 

Any news yet?

No, I am still thinking.

The never ending psychic cogitation.

Don’t worry, I will get back to you.

 

I have been there a lot.

I have dished it out a lot too.

Its solves immediate problems and postpones answers.

It sheds off weight and leaves you free.

 

I will think about it.

It really means, I hope you forget about it.

Cos I don’t have an answer now and can’t guarantee one later.

So I will chew on it and hope you don’t ask again.

I will think about it.