theorangeinkblot

Looking at life through orange colored glasses…

Archive for the category “Poetry”

Just Stop Talking

Just Stop Talking

A Poem

Maybe we should just stop talking- after all, we disagree.

Should I even listen if you don’t agree with me?

When you say those things that go against what I’ve been taught,

It makes me feel these feelings: anger, sadness, and distraught.

 

When feeling these emotions there’s a strong need to defend

my position (which is right) so that you can comprehend.

After all, I must be right-otherwise that means I’m wrong.

How could that be true when my feelings are SO strong.

 

And yet you are the one who thinks you’re clearly in the know.

It seems there’s nothing left to do but argue to and fro.

It doesn’t really matter WHY you’ve come to hold your view-

though if you were to share that I might think of things anew.

 

If you haven’t shared it’s probably ’cause I haven’t asked.

But if I asked that question I might find myself off task.

The task, of course, at hand is to convince you that I’m right

(and make you feel quite foolish that you haven’t seen the light).

 

This might make you angry- you may even think it’s rude

which explains your coming at me with a pissy attitude.

Now you’re storming off because you say, “Enough’s enough!”

I can’t understand why you must leave in such a huff.

 

I was only pointing out the errors in your thoughts.

People are so touchy when they’re not calling the shots.

I may have the flu, but the flu doesn’t have me.

“People are just as happy as they make up their minds to be.”

― Abraham Lincoln

 I Choose Happiness

Even though I have the flu and am feeling somewhat crappy

Today, I am choosing to be happy.

True, the flu’s a bummer

I could wallow and be glummer

I could whine away the day

let my thoughts decay to gray

let my mood succumb to nastiness

Instead, I’ll just choose happiness.

 

 

Even though there’s congestion in my chest

Today I am choosing to feel blessed.

True, my cough’s annoying

It’s not something I’m enjoying

I could choose to be depressed

That my immune system’s suppressed

I could sit here and be stressing.

Instead, I’ll count my blessings.

 

 

Even though the gross stuff in my nose is of great magnitude

Today I am choosing to show gratitude.

True, if I run out of tissue

It could become a larger issue

My nose is in need of a soft place to sneeze.

And it’s only request is to breathe with more ease.

About this I could feel quite hateful

Instead I choose to be grateful.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but my kids appear to be immune…

Why is it when I make suggestions,

My kids always respond with questions.

When I say, “Come stand by me.” They respond with “Why?”

When I suggest a piece of fruit, They ask, “can I have pie?”

The questions keep on coming

Every hour of every day.

Sometimes it feels like questions,

Is all they have to say, like…

 

Are we there yet?

Why’s my tongue wet?

Do you want to make a bet?

Can you explain the national debt?

 

Why do you say I’ve had enough?

Why is elbow skin so rough?

Why is 3rd grade math so tough?

Why can’t I run ‘round in the buff?

 

Will we ever own a yacht?

Do I have to get a shot?

Could you wipe away my snot?

Do you think my forehead’s hot?

 

Do you wish you were a kid?

Did you see what my sister did?

Why does the toilet have a lid?

Can I go on e-Bay and bid?

 

Can you buy me, give me, take me?

Will you give me my own house key?

Why did daddy grow a goatee?

Do you think that I’m a cutie?

 

See how my nice my skin is glistening?

Does my hair need more conditioning?

Can I start theatre auditioning?

Mommy, are you even listening?

 

Sometimes the answer’s plainly yes,

Other times I just don’t know.

If I’m stuck, I have the choice of:

‘just because’ or ‘no.’

 

Some of their questions make me laugh

Some of them make me sigh,

Some of their inquiries make me shake my head

and wonder why?

 

It seems to me that parents should get an answer key,

cliff notes, or a cheat sheet, to unlock these mysteries.

But alas, having children does not come with a plan,

so I’ll keep fielding questions like only mommy can.

Please Continue to Hold…..

I haven’t written in a while and there’s a reason why.

I have a kind of writer’s block

The minutes pass with a tick and a tock

As I sit and wait for my brain to unlock the words on which I rely.

It’s not that a topic escapes me-

it’s more that I can’t narrow down.

Should I write ‘bout religion?

Or nuclear fission?

I sit in my kitchen, my brain on a mission, my face twisted into a frown.

I could write on the subject of discrimination-

Gay or straight, white or black.

Freedoms under attack.

I am taken aback, by the way our words smack of judgment and condemnation.

Perhaps I should write about all things political

But political words are so shady

Dishonest, and often berating

And not becoming of a lady

or maybe I’m just being cynical.

There are plenty of “wars” that they show on the news.

Wars on women and drugs

Wars on terrorist thugs

And similar slugs.  Even wars on bedbugs

to name only a few.

.

So it’s not that my head is empty, it’s quite full

With news of the day

Close to home, far away

Try to rise ‘bove the fray,

to sort truth from the bull

But when so many thoughts swirl around at one time

There’s a clog in my brain

Like you’d find in a drain,

And I have to abstain from writing these lines.

Eventually chaos will give way to clarity.

The word dam will burst

I’ll be free of this curse

and I’ll jump in headfirst, quenching my thirst,

 enjoying this moment of rarity.

Because when I put pen to paper,

I want to evoke a response.

Whether or laughter or tears

Or thoughts of past years

Even sneers allay fears of cool nonchalance.

My life in verse…

I know I owe you part 2 to my last blog entry. Consider this an intermission.

My brother is the poet in my family, but I was feeling creative this morning and thought I’d give it a shot. Here’s what I came up with (mostly) while I was driving my daughter to preschool this morning They are all a work in progress:

Wake Up Call

I am privy

To a very exclusive

Concierge alarm clock service.

Extremely personalized

And very reliable,

Every morning

At crack of dawn o’clock

I am roused from slumber

By the intermittent,

And increasingly loud

Shouts of

“MOMMY”

Floating across my house-

And there is no snooze button.

A Girl Named Sarah

I know a girl named Sarah who likes to stay in bed;

Morning, noon, and night, with the covers on her head.

“Wake up” says her daddy.

“Wake up” says her mommy.

“Wake up” says her little sister too.

But Sarah says, “that didn’t work, so you’ll have to try something new.”

I know a girl named Sarah, who likes to stay in bed;

Morning, noon, and night, with the covers on her head.

“Tickle Tickle” says her daddy.

“Tickle Tickle” says her mommy.

“Tickle Tickle” says her little sister too.

But Sarah says, “That didn’t work, so you’ll have to try something new.”

I know a girl named Sarah, who likes to stay in bed;

Morning, noon, and night, with the covers on her head.

Daddy takes the legs,

Mommy takes the arms,

Sister smiles sweetly, turning up the charm.

“I guess we’ll have to throw her” little sister starts to say.

“I’m up, I’m up” yells Sarah. “I guess I’ll start my day.”

Crayons

Crayon scribbles in the hall,

On the floor and on the wall,

They’d mark the ceiling I suppose

If she could reach on tippy toes.

I guess it’s better than last year,

When she stuck one in her ear.

And according to her tummy,

Periwinkle is quite yummy.

Cereal, It’s What’s for Dinner

Perhaps, instead of ‘mommy,’ they should call me “Cap’n Crunch.”

I eat cereal for breakfast.

I eat cereal for lunch.

At dinner time, cereal appears on the menu too.

There’s just not time to cook with all the running ’round I do.

My Town – A Haiku

(I wrote this yesterday in response to a Haiku challenge issued by my brother. The challenge was to describe an unusual addiction or obsession using Haiku or rhyming verse.)

My digital town

Has turkeys that roam the street.

No one seems to care.

Photo credit: Original filename: alarm_clock.jpg, added February 12, 2009 by Credit: Shutterstock

Photo credit link: http://photo-dictionary.com/phrase/409/alarm-clock.html#ixzz1hDFoB3wZ

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