Cover-ups

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Cover it up with ice-cream,

Cover it up with smiles,

Go out for shopping,

You’ll start feeling fine.

Cover up the gloom,

And look for answers out,

All they’d ever ask you

Is what you’re up to now.

Cover up the dreams and

Hustle all day long,

But when you are lonely,

The spider would start to crawl.

He’ll pull up the veil and

Bring back your frown,

So know that quick fixes

Are not wise or sound.

All they’d ever tell you

Is what the world’s about,

But who you are matters

When all comes crashing down.

This Chatty Bench

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Can you hear the lullaby

Or my mother’s touch feel.

Can you see the Alphabet

That I learned here to read.

Can you picture that first kiss,

Sense how it filled me with glee.

Can you listen the sweet warble

Of his first letter to me.

Can you tell the heartbreak

Didn’t fight shy of cutting deep.

Can you grasp the moments

Of which this bench holds memories.

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

Boxed In

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My eyes are rheumy

My heart’s gloomy

Everything poses a question

Why do they tell you what’s best for you

And box your wants in a prison.

 

“What do you hope?”

“Let go of the rope.”

“Get out, find your passion!”

“You won’t know until you go.”

But there is always a condition.

 

“Do what is ‘right’.”

“Come back on time.”

“Get your grades in order!”

There are no answers that they might have

There is only confusion.

 

 

surface

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you look me up and down

smirk, snort, frown

wonder why my laugh’s so loud

i am awkward, i‘m fussy

i am confused, i‘m messy

i throw a fit, i slouch

but you just look, not watch

you see, you don’t peek inside

i‘m just a girl on a ride

in the jungle gym of life

 

*a vulnerable rant

 

my listicle

 

yellow

Long walks, longer drives

Cool grass, clear skies

Loose sweaters, new shoes

Smiling faces, fruit juice

Petrichor, the colour yellow

Waning moon, a starry wallow

Paper planes, fairy lights

Hearty grins, chocolate bites

New leaps, coffee treats

Snug blankets, snowy sheets

Lazy dreams, a heart fickle

My safe and sound is a listicle.

 

:photo by Aaron Buden, courtesy of unsplash.com

Earth

 

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My toes touch the cold concrete

Before I scud through the wind, o’er the lea

To meet the damp strip beneath the tree

 Bare skin, hues of earth it gleans

A green patch tickles my heel

The Sun plays Tag with my feet

Chases as I leave my shoes,

Let my cracks breathe.

for you.

 

                                                                                                     

That lonely stump in the park

those ringing sounds of the dark

lifeless leaves on the bottom of your shoe

make up a song of fright and gloom

a rant, and maybe a terminal note

that spiral the tiny ball in your throat

that burrow far from the good-natured sky

like slouched soldiers on the sly.

 

Oh, rip that piece of paper

and don’t let those hands waver

for the fledglings of joy will soon stop by

cancel the noise like the songs that got you by.

 

I know you’ll rise from under this rock

pick up your head and walk

give me a list of all the things you like

and I’ll give you one of mine

if it is the conversations that you crave

if it will bring a smile to your face

we’ll talk about the bits and bobs you want to buy

heckle and joke, watch the time fly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hues

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There was a land blue and green

That soon turned gray, sanguine.

 There was a fort gold and silver

That now was dusted black, pewter.

 Not that purple had ever limned white

But this time it was a different fight.

 Years of oppression and persecution

Had ignited the flame of revolution.

 Those who dared to ask why

Said they’d walk with heads held high.

 The jar had a million hues

And it finally broke free, unloose.

15.8.1947

Trapdoor

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On the ceiling, dragons breathing fire

Squelch across smoky skies and clouds gray

Erupting a sprightly bout of shadows

A trapdoor opens and takes her away.

 

On the floor, a big hole

Gyrates demons that is to say

Unearthing a darkness inside

A trapdoor opens and takes her away.

 

Up on the wall,  flashbacks

Swirl and nerves fray

Schlepping memories out of blank space

Out of nowhere – a trapdoor opens and takes her away.

 

Image: flickr.com