I only have one Mummy,
her cakes are really yummy,
she can be funny.
She is one of my best buddies,
she loves a lot of buggies,
she doesn’t tolerate dummies.
She has a lot of chummies,
She loves me when I’m grumpy,
I am really lucky,
to have my one mummy.
Just need to frame that with some macaroni.
Fair warning, this is only poem that I came up on the whim. It’s not serious.
Tomorrow was the day that I was born,
Now I am torn,
whether to write the word porn,
as it rhymes with born,
I should have probably forewarned.
Tomorrow will be a chance to be redrawn,
will it be with rose, or thorns?
or will my life become as fun as a fauns?
Now, I will be asleep when this is actually announced. In the meantime though, I have decided to write a little poetry of my own. How this is will go, will be anyone’s guess though, haha
First the news:
T.S. Eliot Prize 2021 shortlist – Poetry Society UK
My hand is on that page,
closing my eyes,
I can feel the ink soak up, through my finger, hand, elbows and the rest.
I feel the words soak into my blood, into my DNA.
The ink, words and letters, wrap around my neck. They don’t strangle me, they comfort me.
I can SEE the words, I can SEE the letters.
If I just reach out, I can see all the words and the letters becoming real.
As I concentrate the words turn into colours, shapes and make believe character.
I smile to myself.
Everything I believe in, right at my finger tips.
Without that page, I don’t live. I don’t live without that page.
Can you feel it?
Christmas isn’t a present, or food
It’s a feeling deep down,
A feeling of joy and love,
of wanting peace for all people kind.
Santa Claus is real,
It’s a feeling deep down,
He comes still comes every Christmas Eve,
but this year I hope he brings joy.
Santa Claus is real,
He is watching us when we’re sleeping, and he does watch us when we’re awake.
He knows we need to be better,
so be better for goodness sake.
I will let you know the power you gave too me,
this horrible human being.
I will let you know the voice you gave too me,
after I treated you “horribly” for years.
I will let you hear me roar,
as I laugh if your face.
You think you could stop me?
You think I wouldn’t speak?
One Day … Too Your Face, I will let you know the voice you gave too me.
One Day … Too Your Face, I will expose how you did know me. So when you realised that I knew you knew, it was all over.
One Day … Too Your Face, I will TELL you how I don’t waste another single second on useless toxic emotions.
I will say too you, all that you taught me.
I will say to you, you taught me to listen for the people who WILL listen too me.
One day and too your face … I will tell you how I could never cruel and unkind to others, like you are.
Too your face … I will tell you how my friends ARE friends.
I will tell you to your face that I will never again, spend my life, waste a single second on someone who never thinks of others and their lives.
I can’t be cruel or unkind to you, because you taught me the biggest lessons in my life. How can I be cruel or unkind, to someone who did teach me so much about myself?
Oh, the time has come for my dreams to be heard
They will not be pushed aside and turned
Into your own all ’cause you won’t
Listen
Some days, I don’t want to fight with anyone anymore,
Some days, I just want to relax and ignore the whole world,
Some days, I want the solution to be easy.
Some days, I’d do nearly anything to win the lotto … (nearly anything…nearly)
Some days, I could honestly sleep all day and still feel tired.
Some days, I couldn’t fall asleep even if I tried.
Some day, I can’t believe I was so unhappy the day before.
Those days are days where I try to do everything.
Some days, I just want to do everything but I become tired again,
Some days, all I want to do is read, but can’t =/
Some nights, I just want to read all night!
Last weeks “Poetry Day” was so inspiring too me, but I am not a very good poet, but I do want to try.
Poetry by Lolsy’s Library
Oh, poetry how thee inspire me,
as I sit under this cold breeze,
thinking of my pedigree.
Must all poems rhyme?
Will all writing die?
Rhyme, Rhyme, Rhyme.
Don’t stop and start,
that’s when you lose the flow.
“I know. I know how lost you feel. But I assure you, you will be okay.” I know. I know how lost you feel. How when you look up at the sky, you feel like blowing away in the wind. How you see your sad eyes in the mirror and wish for it all to […]
Daily Post – Sing – One word Prompt
Sing it from your heart,
Sing it with all of your might,
Sing it from your core,
Sing it from the soul.
Make sure they hear it, loud and clear,
Sing till their ears bleed,
Sing, so they can’t ignore you,
Sing, till there is no more denying.
I am sure most of you have heard of Cecil the Lion and the very sad story that has followed since. I clearly care about more animals and people than just “Cecil the Lion”, but if I were to post about everything I am passionate about, my news-feed postings would never end!lol…With animals (for me personally) they cannot speak for themselves, for example today, a white Rhino died the same week as Cecil…leaving 4 known left in the world, forever…We caused that, we owe these animals…So thanks for those supporting me and not making me feel bad about speaking up, cause apparently there are a lot of people who are upset people caring so much about “just a Lion”…I kind of want my children and my grandchildren to be able to see wild animals running around free…That’s just me though…I’m hoping that this tragedy will bring some good, especially for conservation!
The Australian Senate: Keep the ban on lion trophies and body parts
There was a poem written by this 13 year old boy whose wishes to remain anonymous, and for me personally, it speaks exactly to how I feel and what I think about the situation.
I am Cecil.
Naturally I am powerful.
Yet the situation was such that I am not longer alive.
Alive to hunt, alive to live, alive to be African.
I am not Cecil. But I am Africa, An Africa for you to kill, obviously.
I am every rhino and elephant that you tear apart.
I am the Ivory ripped from their faces, for you to consume.
I am rhino and elephant. I am Cecil, I am Africa.
I am sorry that we can’t defend the defenseless against people with weapons used to attack.
I am sorry that we can’t bring Cecil back.
You’ve killed Cecil.
You’re killing Africa.
I am not Cecil.
I am Africa.
I need help.*
Donate to help High 5. Give $5. Save Big Cats.
(Myself and my Mufusa…Click on the picture to be taken to World Lion Day twitter page)
Lolsys Library 