The month of love and adoration Is the shortest one of all! Not all happiness can be packed into its summation, Short, though it is, its effects are a ball!
In its center, couples celebrate their love, As if you only praise your unity, then! And every other day falls short of its possessive Hold on your cheery life filled only with a pen.
The one you use to organize your life, Strategize your next goal, perfect compassion That leads to compromise and less strife, While dissent and enmity to envy’s fashion.
Duty and love are two sides of a coin, Where duty can choke the life out of veneration As it stomps out the cheer from your conjoin.
As the new year approaches, you look back and realize that you’ve grown as an individual, while others are stuck in a rut. As I remember my past obstacles and breakthroughs, I recall my childhood holidays filled with aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, and friends gathering under 1 roof. The noise, laughs, cries of fear for a too mischievous child were part of the atmosphere of unity.
Today, only a few hours remain for a brand new year to start, a blank slate, maybe?
Never.
Life is cumulative, and there’s always context for actions and reactions. I wish for simplicity in life to return, where actions don’t need to have double or triple meanings, but where honesty, love, peace, and equality are the only values that are enacted by all.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms, including Amazon.com:
As I look above, the sky’s scintillating Colors, whether sunrise, twighlight, sunset, or night They inspire moods that vary, like colors devoting Beauty to your every versatility, like a kite In flight, I realize, GOD, is all around Doling out beauty for your joy that’s found
In being beside you when times Are exciting, cheerful, depressing, When you look down upon ecosystems Surrounding you with miracles, outstanding In their simplicity: ant home, beehives, Even larger predators, the need survives
In each one, human, animal, insect, Knowing YOU’RE present everywhere Above, below, and at our side. In fact, That knowledge is what initiate Our appreciation for all GOD’S creations, Also innately aware of your presence’s jubilations,
That empower all to subjugate Negativity with optimism, transforming Our core into being compassionately humane.
The month of love and adoration Is the shortest one of all! Not all happiness can be packed into its summation, Short, though it is, it’s effects are a ball!
In its center, couples celebrate their love, As if, you only praise your unity then! And every other day falls short of its possessive Hold on your cheery life filled only with a pen.
The one you use to organize your life, Strategize your next goal, perfect compassion That leads to compromise and less strife, While dissent and enmity to envy’s fashion.
Duty and love are two sides of a coin, Where duty can choke the life out of veneration As it stomps out the cheer from your conjoin.
Cowgirl boots, shorts, and off the shoulder Shirt, a toddler holding the phone Speaking to her brother, who’s far, Far from home. She gurgles her love,
At times incomprehensibly, laughing At his replies that have adoration Light up her eyes as hearing His voice is her drug of choice, a succession
Of discordant sounds, she interprets With a beatific cacophony of cries That invade your heart with warmth that’s A test to your all encompassing hearts.
The time for death is near, Near the hearth of family, Family, whose the sole perpetrator, Perpetrator of unconditional love. Love, that’s the ravager of loneliness, Loneliness that drives despair, Despair, that’s the cultivator Cultivator of dispossessed souls, Souls that needed love, received brutality. Brutality that’s emotional and physical, Physical breaks that takes ages, Ages to mend, but never overcome, Overcome completely the degradation, Degradation of Death’s door that opens Opens for all aggressors who’ve torn, Torn away at your confidence. Confidence that you rip out of their palms, Palms that are covered in blood, Blood of the innocent who survived, Survived hell on earth and won, Won the war over death’s door.
Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?
The years I’d relive are the births of my babies. Each was special in their own way, but with my first, the adjustment to having a baby and other responsibilities made the enjoyment of the experience limited in that my body needed rest and had to adjust to a lot of changes at once. So yes, I’d love to revisit each birth individually and appreciate each miracle of birth and motherhood with less demands on my time.
My poetry book: Perfectly Flawed poetry for change is available at Amazon.com, iTunes, Googlebooks, Barnes and noble, Kindle, and Kobo.
Her head, slightly tilted up, looking Into his beautiful chocalaty eyes Swarming with love, passion, striving To impart his longing to listen to her piano’s
Rendition of an Austrian waltz, Stiring his passions for her innocence, Compassion, and adaptability that’s the cause Of his unfailing support for her patience,
That’s infallible in her haloed Reverence for their rhythm and harmony In a life filled with shared experiences, favored With laughter ringing with a clarity
That resonates within the heart, Making its flutter call out their names When you feel their need for your part Of a hug, kiss, even a game played that aims
To not only fill them with cheer for their Peers, but also teaches morals And ethics that help stabilize greater Community unity that propels
The certainty that although life, Tech, health fluctuate, our strength Of belief in one another’s humanity’s care For its perseverance in the face of adversity, at length
Will never drop its compassion, Survival when faced with injustice, confusion.
This very lebanese recipe comes in both a vegetarian and meat variation. I love both, really, but the ones that trigger love, family, and feasting on religious holidays, is the meat version. That one is made with lamb shoulder as a base, with the grape leaves stuffed with rice and ground beef, some top it with stuffed zucchini, but in our home it was just the meat and grape leaves. They are left to Simmer for about 12 hours so that the meat falls off the bones, the leaves become paper thin-easy to digest, and the rice absorbed all the flavors. We’d usually eat it with pita bread, fresh mint leaves, and green onions.
The smell of it cooking throws me back to my childhood, when I first got married, gatherings, and just happy times.
Poet, author of Perfectly Flawed: poetry for change.
Poetry for Change 