Really? That’s what you’re wearing?

Pajama princess how beautiful you are,
Wearing those “hello kitty” pants like a hero,
In your head you must be such a star,
Plodding through Wal-mart eating Jell-O.

You are a princess so why should you care,
What the other shoppers think of you,
Those lowly plebes stopping to stare,
As you regally pass in Crocs of blue.

Another feature that commands respect,
Is the yellow scrunchy that you wear,
Like a royal crown made to protect,
That pile of mess you call your hair.

“Free samples on aisle eight!”
Comes the announcement from up above,
The princess moves, her path is straight,
It’s the chicken wings she loves!

Long live Her Royal Highness! End chapter 1.

DH-

Coughing myself to death

Is this to be my hapless plight,
To die of coughing in the night?

Of all the ways it could have come,
Who’d imagine I’d choke upon my lung?

Others go much more dignified,
Dying in battle with honor and pride.

And others still will pass with fame,
Ridding their loved ones of morbid shame.

Not I– for I must walk another path,
One filled with wheezing, rattling gasps.

Nearing Heaven’s gates, I see a man,
It’s St. Peter, cough drops in hand.

IF

I know little about poetry, but one need not know much to appreciate this piece. It resonates.

fatherson

 

If you can keep your head when all about you,
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster,
And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken,
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings,
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew,
To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

– Rudyard Kipling

Choices

decisions

Today is a day of choices.

The choices I make today will affect my life.

My mood, my appearance, my health, my spirituality and my effectiveness today will all be determined primarily by the decisions I make. I will either grow, slide backward or stay in the same place. The close of today will find me nearer to becoming the man I want to be, or languishing in the same place I was at the start of the day.

I will start right now, making choices that make me a better person…for me, and for others.

Dream-Speaking

Oh Sleep that doth elude me,
Whither shall I go?

I find no respite upon my pillow,
Why, I cannot know.

Could it be, perhaps because,
Common language I’ve forsaken,

Choosing rather to use bygone terms,
Such as hereunto, thither and awaken.

Or maybe this is all a dream,
A vision of stranger times,

When people could not speak or sleep,
Unless they did so in rhyme.

DH-

Night Ramblings

Lying in bed, trying to sleep,
My mind is not tired.

I squeeze my eyes, pretend to snore,
I am totally wired.

It must have been that barrel of coffee,
I felt the need to drink.

Now no matter how I search for slumber,
All I do is think.

Well at least I could use this time,
To ponder world issues.

Never mind, that would require,
Way too many tissues.

Perhaps I’ll try counting sheep,
Nah, that will never last.

I’ve resigned myself, I’ll just wait,
Until this night has passed.

Anyone else awake?

DH-

‘Twas the Night Before Monday

‘Twas the night before Monday, and my mind began to race,
What will this week hold? How will I fill this space?

Was it work I was thinking of, or could it be something more?
It was this blog and the posts I need, causing my brain to be so sore.

I pondered it, thought it through, an idea crept slowly in,
I should blog about this problem, this predicament I am in.

So I grabbed a large espresso and made straight for my chair,
The place where I brainstorm, the place I sit and stare.

As I sat there and sipped, my mind raced endlessly,
But all I could come up with, was this piece of poetry.

In conclusion I must say, this felt somewhat sad to write,
Merry Monday to all, and to all a good night.

Have a great week from Brews and Views!

DH-