Tell me…

So tell me
what to believe –
lying truths?
or
truthful lies?
is it
really
just the thoughts that
count?

-thewalkingpencil

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It’s cold and quiet

It’s cold and quiet in here

As my heart beats un-rhythmically behind the bone bars

It’s cold and quiet out here

As I lie frozen with dried faeces behind the iron bars

It’s cold and quiet in here

As my stomach has forgotten how to grumble with hunger

It’s cold and quiet out here

As the iron bars have forgotten how to creak with the wind

It’s cold and quiet in here

As my blood silently stills; painting dyes of purples, blues and blacks

It’s cold and quiet out here

As the iron bars softly sway; swirling up in velvet, thick darkness

“It’s cold and quiet in there

And dead.”

 

-thewalkingpencil

She drives me crazy!

She drives me crazy –
Left, right, right, right, left…
Ups and downs
Ordinary greys
Evergreen beauty
Twists of darkness
Guiding lights
Stopping, and being ready to start again
Oh, she drives me crazy!
She drives me round the bend…
She drove me to my home,
When I couldn’t find the way.
Oh she is, after all, my dear TomTom*…

-thewalkingpencil


A similar poem I posted previously; try and guess what it is about before the end of the poem! – Friend or foe

*GPS sat nav brand name

She laughs at me

She throws back her head and laughs at me,
Says, “Wait, what did you say? That just sounds crazy!”
And I repeat what I said, despite by the behaviour unkind,
Because she’s the one with the flavourless mind.
She looks my way and laughs at me,
Says, “You’re setting yourself up for failure, don’t you see?”
And I explain how I’m not,
Wondering why she sees from only one spot.
Then she sighs and says she’ll fake agree,
To fulfill my silly wish.
And adds that I’ll give up, before I even try.
So I say goodbye and wonder why
This woman is the head of a place
Where they say they work to educate.

-thewalkingpencil


It’s okay to not be able to understand someone. But when someone doesn’t try to understand you from your first word, they’ve lost some of my respect.

Talentless? Talent-more…

Oh you makers, you bakers,
you creative writers.
No, not one of them?
Or without any known talent?

Yes, me too – and I tell you:
The greater talent that talent cannot find,
is when that beating morsel of flesh
that lies beneath
the layers of skin, flesh and bone,
can move more people than the lightning Bolt,
and flow more sincere ink than that nouvelle novel,
and is cleaner than the artist’s waiting canvas,
That’s the talent, of which talent counts.

-thewalkingpencil


A lot of us feel like we have no talents. It’s easy to feel that way – and I especially feel like that when someone asks me my hobbies. But for me, I only momentarily admire someone’s talent.

What sticks with me longer is when someone is genuinely caring and considerate, which unfortunately is so rare to find now.

When trust is broken-

They say:
Trust breaks a relationship.
Like a shattered mirror.
Never the same again.
Even when glued together
with the strongest glue of forgiveness.
Now the broken pieces
reflect back a thousand faces,
distort that one expression.

And others say:
If that mirror
is heated with the fire of love, and compressed
with the pressure of sacrifice, and cooled with
air of understanding,
it can become a newer,
cleaner mirror than before.

But I say:
Maybe yes,
But maybe, not for us.

-thewalkingpencil


At one point in our lives, our trust would have been broken by a person, if not more. And if it hasn’t, then you’re lucky.

Sometimes it’s a small matter we can leave aside, perhaps be a little more wary. But other times, it can open a Pandora’s box…