The trolls have returned.
They are many.
Many times annoying and rude.
How to protect yourself is intimidating.
Who shall be your shining knight
and slice their blade to cut off the troll’s heads?
Protecting yourself these days
usually means taking up the sword yourself.
Then if you can handle the weight
figure out how to swing it.
No troll should be able to bother you,
yet somehow, one always lurks around the next corner.
People tell me I need to get a job.
I need to have a roof over my head.
My children need to be disciplined more severely.
How about not wasting any food?
Recycling or reusing is a good idea.
What I truly need is therapy.
A chance to heal and get better
so I can get a job, feed my kids,
get them to school on time, have the energy to be a good citizen
and most of all love myself
so that I don’t end up being a needy waste of time.
To milk or not to milk?
Tea or coffee perhaps?
Water if nothing else
but a beverage to wash
down the sweet crumbly goodness
is desired.
No matter what
a cookie will always leave crumbs.
And that makes it all the sweeter.
Danger lurks around every corner.
Risks happen and stumbles increase.
Trying to prevent injury is never certainty.
Limiting the pitfalls is esteem worthy.
Life has many lemons and sometimes you just have to suck it.
Some days are better than others.
I want to believe things will get better.
Bad days bring me down.
That is where friends step in.
Seeing them and laughing or just talking
calms and soothes my troubled soul.
Which turns a bad day into a beautiful day.
Faith restored I turn my heart towards my soul
and see about dealing with the troubles within.
Miserable weather.
News stories bothersome.
Somedays I just want to go back to bed.
Then the hyper child awakes
and my coffee gets cold
as I try to wrangle a school day out of her.
Trying to stay positive
takes so much effort,
some days I wonder if it is worth it?
Karma is a bitch
so they say.
Your actions
will one day be returned back upon you.
So be kind they say.
Who are they
and what do they know?
All I know is that one day
I’ll be in the they category
and by then it’ll be too late.
Murder is a heinous crime.
Extortion and embezzlement are gauche.
Blackmail is taken to new heights
and yet punishing my child
requires tact and discipline.
Not from them, from me
so I do not end up strangling their neck
or locking them in a cage.
But then again
I’m not a government who doesn’t care.
It would consume my life
as I tried to understand
the currents and flows
of all the words and promises.
Most of which never come.
So I want to jump off this bandwagon
and find my own feet under me.
I will go on
even if the world burns down around me.
Death comes to us all.
Icons pass on
and then another.
Politics govern our lives
and yet we continue to live.
Life is complicated
and as we grieve for the loss of someone special
we have to find our voice
as life goes on.
My heart aches at the notorious RBG
found her rest
and I can only hope we don’t let her legacy down.
Saturn's Premier Poet 