The Plea of a Gnarled Tree – Poem

woman tree

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. I’ve been thinking about you a lot

You capture attention – mine surely got caught

So, here’s my reaction to your heartfelt plea

The plea of a gnarled and exhausted tree

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This detail won’t stroke your ego

It won’t make too many mentions,

but the road to hell is paved with details,

or is it ‘with good intentions’?

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Never mind…

I know you mean well,

Still, one cannot ‘good-deed’

Their way out of hell…

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Even so…

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In doing good we must leave no stone unturned

Yet, Grace is a Gift which cannot be earned…

This gift is not carved into tablets of stone

We cannot reach peace on our own…

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Bread can be hardened, and yet

You can never turn stone into bread…

The truth’s independent of one’s belief

If you bite into stone, you will break your teeth

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Some say truths are many, but how many are there?

And how can those ‘truths’ contradict one another?

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There is only One… for the old and the youth

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“What makes me think that I’ve met the Truth?”

I am Free Finally – I take that as a proof

There is mercy and grace for those who repent

Even to the gnarled trees that are twisted and bent.

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Talking with a Mother – Short Story

Homeless MotherWhile they seat in their big houses, I’m wondering how to tell my children that we must move out of our tiny flat, and that I don’t know where we’re going to…

–    ‘Must we leave our friends? Must we change our school?’

They ask, and I feel like running away, but they have only me, so I have to stay.

I go to the powers that be and ask them for help. They don’t look in my eyes. They glance… Their head holds a PC inside, rather than a mind, never mind a human heart. They hand me a number to ring. And I do, so I can be lied to… I sense that their words might be far from the truth, so I start my own search online. The computer, seemingly a little more humane, tells me part of what’s to know. “You are on the waiting list – number 334. So, I go back to the ‘people’, and ask:

–      “Does this mean that you’ll help us move house?”

–     “No.” They say. “Don’t leave there – stay. When you’re on the streets – come back. Then, we’ll have a chat. There are many like you. You are not the only one.” Fine! I leave. “Next one, please!” I hear them yell. I feel like I’ll lose my mind if I stay. From now on, I’ll send letters or I’ll e-mail them.

I will work, at the same time, as hard as I can. Though, to rent a new small flat this job won’t provide. What else will I do? I will cry, sometimes. Not too much. I don’t want to drown… in tears. Then, I’ll work again just to pay the bills. I feel really tired – I’ve been lacking sleep… I can’t let them kill me though! I’m going to live! Yet, I bottle these fears and the pain. There’s a bottle of wine in my hand.

– “Why?” The interviewer asks.

– “Why wine? I’m cutting my chocolate down.”

– “No. Why bottle the pain? Why not talk to someone?” He smiles.

– “Oh…” She sighs.

Those who are comfortable want to stay comfortable. They say that they pray for me and my family while they seat in their big houses comfortably. Meanwhile, I wonder how to tell my children that we have to move, again… And, I cannot tell them where we’re going to… I don’t know… God knows. Oh… {She pauses} That’s right. He does. ‘Oh, thank you for listening’, she adds.

The interviewer smiles.

 “I will put this wine away. I’m going to pray.”

She gets up and goes… Where to? Well… God knows.

Happy Mother's Day

Dedicated to all mothers - especially those forced to persevere 
a lot more than others. You are amazing! Happy Mother's Day!

There She Goes Away – Poem

doubt, fear

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Here she comes again…

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And she takes my peace away

Then, she steals my energy

She says it’s too late for my life to change!

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Here she comes again…

And I run, so much faster than I should,

Or freeze disabled by ‘I wish I could’

Unable to hear – unable to see…

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Here she comes again…

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She is the cunning first cousin of fear

She’s so slick. Oh yes, she is & her goal is clear

She wants to destroy my faith

When my victory’s near

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So I doubt…

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Still I know

If I follow her advice

I… will pay the price

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If it’s right it is Him

If it’s not it is me

If it’s done it is we…

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So, I shout:

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Father! This is the first time when it really counts!

I don’t want to make mistakes

I am so scared I could fail!

Suddenly, I realize…

Whatever He’s promised before

He has always done…

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So I pray…

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I know He remembers me. I know my Redeemer lives!

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There’s no time to rush

There’s no time to wait

There’s no time to lie to myself

No time to complain

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Hence, I say:

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It will be okay, again. I know who I am!

These words paint my future

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There she goes away…

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Retrospection (I am Free finally) – Poem

My past is a story of a tortured soul

Trapped in a jail with invisible doors

No way out and no way in –

Complete unawareness of being within

…In the heart of the greatest lie…

I was the most faithful friend of my greatest enemy

I was the lost coin

Looking for ways to be destroyed

Locked away. Locked in…

Believing religiously that I held the key

Surrounded by darkness from inside of me

I was a vampire, not even a leech –

so convinced I lived, convinced I was free

Chasing after shadows and fighting with winds

I just kept running around, like a chicken – beheaded one

Just running in circles, running in the darkness

Flipping my crippled wings in my utter madness

Admiring the image of my ugliness

Tripping against each stone on my way

In the dirtiest soil I kept washing my face

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Not knowing why I kept running away –

Away from the world!

Away from myself!

Away from my fate!

Running after freedom, getting more in-caged!

I tried! …To break away from the spell of his darkness!

But was overwhelmed by fear and tangible sadness…

…After I experienced all deaths that were mine

He surrounded me with a silent shout singing:

‘Girl, for you my body has been drained of blood.

How many more times will I pass you by?

How many more crimes will you bring to life?

Recognize me – I am He… Acknowledge me now.’

My past is a story of a tortured soul

Trapped in a jail with invisible doors…

Quick! Before the Drama Blooms! Poem

Drama Trap Pic Final

They have seen too many fights

Teary days & weary nights

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Respect, trust,

Communication

Seem like ancient arts

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Instead, there are…

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Fast flying arrows

By a rebellious Cupid

And mean accusations

Some way beyond stupid

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Whenever she wins a battle

She knows she has lost

When she opens her mouth

Her heart becomes closed

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She can’t hear his heart

He’s convinced he’s right

Every common goal forgotten

Overshadowed by pride

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What are we doing?

Why do we fight?

Where are we going?

Where is the light?!

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If there was a drama trap

She’d buy it – whatever the price

She would lay them all around them

Like the ones used to catch mice

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If there was a drama spray

He’d spray it all over their rooms

He would spray before it comes

Quick! Before the drama blooms!

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Yet, there sure is such a trap

Yes! There sure is such a spray

They remember the old battles

They decide to kneel & pray…

I saw the gods – poem

death crowned

I saw the gods

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Fighting each other

Like little old boys

Playing with words &

Playing with bombs

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I saw the gods

The old & the young

Simpletons & fools

The proud & the Proud

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I saw the gods

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Claiming the power

Over life & death

I saw the gods &

I saw them scared

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I saw evil queens

I saw sluggish kings

Greedy advisers & their royal rings

Aided by strong winds

& powerful wings

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They seemed far away

Yet, I was concerned

I knew that our world

Was connected to theirs

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I saw the gods

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Yes, Attention Paid

I saw the gods

I prayed & I prayed…

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Then, I saw my God

He said I was blessed

Yes, He said I mustn’t be

Fearful nor depressed.

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Human Disasters

Lit Candles

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What happened to you makes no sense, it makes me cry

This shouldn’t have happened – you did not have to die…

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What happened to you makes you mad, it makes you cry

Children thrown out of windows? Why? They cannot fly …

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Why?

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There’s not enough water – London towers rise so high

There’s not enough help! There’s not enough time!!!

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This is not a house of cards, but it surely burns like one

This fire caused even more pain than their knives had done

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This is not a house of cards – there are lives inside

Real people like you & I – they shouldn’t have died

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I’m praying for you if you have survived… You’ll rise…

And for you who’ve lost your loved one or many loved ones

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I’m praying that those in power do all in their power

To prevent human disasters in another London tower.

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Tribute to Grenfell Tower victims & their loved ones ♥♥♥

It’s OK if You’re not OK

i-love-you-photo.

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Our eyes cry the same type of tears

Our hearts feel the same type of pain

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I don’t need you to smile if you’re hurting

By His Grace, I can handle your hurt

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You don’t have to be strong all the time

You don’t have to pretend it’s just fine…

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I’m not scared of your tears. I won’t run away

What do you need? How can I pray?

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It’s okay if you’re not okay…

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You are still one of my favorites, on Earth…

Even when your mind doesn’t match His name

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I’m not here for your fame, or to cast the blame

I’ve made many mistakes, gone through guilt & shame

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It’s okay if you’re not okay… Yet,

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If you hide from me, do not hide from Him

You won’t drown in these tears. He will help you swim

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He will help you jump through each hellish hoop

As far as New York is from Guadeloupe!

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He is stronger than life, death, and night or day

He will show you the way to escape, so I pray

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It’s okay if you’re not okay…

Finding God

lost found searching

You don’t just find God in Love, although

So many people like to think you do…

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You find His Love break through our hate

You find him in joys, but more in despairs

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You find him in pain and in rain

You find him at night and during the day

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He is all the time. God is everywhere…

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Yet, here is the most beautiful thing

About finding Him…

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When you cannot find – you can’t even search

Your heart is too tired and too weak to care

He will find you…

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Wherever you’re at…

In sadness, in pain,

In the storm, in the rain

He is there.