Crisis mode!
Easy to focus on the BIG problems.
Cut and pare away the non-immediate troubles.
Deal with the emergency.
Then try to breathe.
The main issue I have
is that every single day
puts me in this mode.
How do I live without letting it over take me?
The stress is literally killing me!
A piece of trash.
Once very important.
To who nobody knows.
The metal is twisted
scarred beyond recognition.
In my dreams
I see them using it
playing with the instruments.
It still circles Saturn
a lonely artifact
beautiful beyond price.
Dirty socks
Clean socks
Discarded socks
Random socks
Multi-coloured socks
All they do is mock
as I pick up and take stock
of all the ones left
lying around my floors.
Socks!
That old refrain.
I’m sick and tired.
Usually in conjunction with something else.
Well, I’m sick and tired.
I am sick therefore I am tired.
I am tired because I am sick.
I sick of being tired.
I tired of being sick.
I am sick and tired
of being sick and tired.
Knock on the door.
The figure standing before me is uniformed.
“Are there any children in the house?”
I answer the questions concerned.
My neighbourhood is a good one.
A gang attack?
Next door?
They are good people…
Are the kids ok?
Oh that’s why you are asking me.
No, I am not hiding them.
After they have left
I cry and go cuddle my own babies.
My boy is missing.
His brother and I worry.
The family is concerned.
Where is my boy?
Why hasn’t he come home?
Will he ever come home?
I get on with life
but I am still worried!
I could not care less
but a rhyme is a guess
so even if I stress
I hope I can trust
The ones chosen I must
Otherwise it will be dust
What was I doing again?
Everyone likes to complain about their life.
Their jobs suck.
Bad service at the coffee shop.
Traffic was slow.
My friends don’t understand me.
How soon we forget
We are blessed.
Food to eat.
Clothes to wear.
A roof over our head.
People who care
and won’t try to hurt us.
My life is good.
If only I look at it differently.
I worry about my kids.
I worry about my cats.
I curse the worry that strains my finances.
I stress about the little things
Never knowing if everything will be alright.
My life would be great if only…
I even worry about my friends.
How special is that!
Don’t expect me to be normal.
I don’t live there.
I am weird, gloriously so.
I prefer the term eclectic.
If I had money I would be eccentric.
I am not crazy though.
My sanity may be questioned
but I am all me!
Saturn's Premier Poet 