Today we rewrite the bard, with a twist.
And when you're older, darling
And wrinkled like an unironed shirt
Those guys who stare at you now
Will seem to matter not at all.
And if they ask why you are ugly now
And why have you not taken care to age well,
Then say, from within the depth of your soul,
That the fools have shamed us, now folly wins
And the ephemeral beauty of a firework
Lasts longer than the beauty of the fool
And his child will know naught beyond the excuse
And will inherit the earth by folly laid bare.
If only we knew then what we know today
How different might our actions be today.
(c) 2ndwitch, 27/04/19
("When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold."
Shakespeare Sonnet II )
Showing posts with label child. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child. Show all posts
Sunday, 28 April 2019
Thursday, 18 April 2019
GloPoWriMo2019 Day Seventeen
Today we turn the tables.
As a child we learn to respect knowledge and
To assume that with learning comes wisdom.
We are raised to view the ones who attain power
As possessing wisdom, for without it they could not be in power.
I may be small, Mr Politician, but I can watch you.
I see you on television, talking about important things.
I listen to your words about education.
Education concerns me, Mr Politician.
I understand that it is important that I can read and write,
But I do not understand why it is more important that
I understand a subjunctive clause than that I
Understand the meaning of birdsong.
I understand that I must be taught important things
And that those who teach me are important people,
But I do not understand why you will not pay
Enough important people to help me learn.
I understand that it is important that I treat
Everyone as my equal, and do not judge on your
Terms of colour, class or gender, but I
Do not understand why there is one rule for
You, and a different rule for me.
I understand that there are glories in my past,
But when you tell me of them I see only sadness,
And I do not understand why the old people, the
Ones who should have grown wiser with the years,
Should want to make me live in the past and
Not have any hope for the future.
I understand we need to live in harmony with
The earth, and do not understand why you cannot
Understand that simple truth.
I understand, Mr Politician, that what I was taught
Is wrong, and that you are not in power because you are wise,
But you are in power because you understand the importance
Of money, and of self, and all else is just words.
I understand, Mr Politician, I understand.
I understand that you are no more than a fool.
(c) 2ndwitch, 17/04/19
As a child we learn to respect knowledge and
To assume that with learning comes wisdom.
We are raised to view the ones who attain power
As possessing wisdom, for without it they could not be in power.
I may be small, Mr Politician, but I can watch you.
I see you on television, talking about important things.
I listen to your words about education.
Education concerns me, Mr Politician.
I understand that it is important that I can read and write,
But I do not understand why it is more important that
I understand a subjunctive clause than that I
Understand the meaning of birdsong.
I understand that I must be taught important things
And that those who teach me are important people,
But I do not understand why you will not pay
Enough important people to help me learn.
I understand that it is important that I treat
Everyone as my equal, and do not judge on your
Terms of colour, class or gender, but I
Do not understand why there is one rule for
You, and a different rule for me.
I understand that there are glories in my past,
But when you tell me of them I see only sadness,
And I do not understand why the old people, the
Ones who should have grown wiser with the years,
Should want to make me live in the past and
Not have any hope for the future.
I understand we need to live in harmony with
The earth, and do not understand why you cannot
Understand that simple truth.
I understand, Mr Politician, that what I was taught
Is wrong, and that you are not in power because you are wise,
But you are in power because you understand the importance
Of money, and of self, and all else is just words.
I understand, Mr Politician, I understand.
I understand that you are no more than a fool.
(c) 2ndwitch, 17/04/19
Wednesday, 18 April 2018
GloPoWriMo 2018 - day fifteen
Today the prompt is to write a poem where a villain meets misfortune and is proved human, or in this, case not human!
A misfortunate child.
When I was a small child I was told that there was a monster
That lived behind the dustbins.
I was warned never to approach this monster, as it was evil and would
Do unspeakable things to me.
One day I moved the dustbins to look for the monster, so I could ask
It in what way it was evil.
Behind the bins was a gap in the wall, and a door, a very small door,
And of course I pushed it open, and there was a sudden shuffling noise
And the monster ran away and hid on the other side of the door.
Puzzled I continued through the door, and found I was in my own back garden,
Just below the apple tree.
The only monster I could see was a toad that cowered by a loose brick,
Unable to escape past the curious child.
The only villain was a toad!
And then I turned on my dad and shouted at him, told him he should
Not tell me lies, and I was sent to bed for being impertinent.
A misfortunate child.
When I was a small child I was told that there was a monster
That lived behind the dustbins.
I was warned never to approach this monster, as it was evil and would
Do unspeakable things to me.
One day I moved the dustbins to look for the monster, so I could ask
It in what way it was evil.
Behind the bins was a gap in the wall, and a door, a very small door,
And of course I pushed it open, and there was a sudden shuffling noise
And the monster ran away and hid on the other side of the door.
Puzzled I continued through the door, and found I was in my own back garden,
Just below the apple tree.
The only monster I could see was a toad that cowered by a loose brick,
Unable to escape past the curious child.
The only villain was a toad!
And then I turned on my dad and shouted at him, told him he should
Not tell me lies, and I was sent to bed for being impertinent.
Thursday, 12 April 2018
GloPoWriMo 2018 - day seven
Today the prompt is list the various things, identities, that I am, and to choose one strong or powerful one, and one weak or vulnerable one, and allow them to converse.
To be seen . . .
There is strength in being woman, for the power of the womb and the
Gift that is granted through bearing the child are beyond compare
And no mere man can understand these things.
But then you are weak, you cannot lift, you cannot hit,
You cannot fight back, you are useless and need a man to
Do for you those things you lack the muscle to achieve.
But there is more determination in the tears that are shed in private,
And more life gained from the deepest feelings that love allows
A woman to feel for her child, than is ever known to man.
But you are weak, you cry with emotion, you cannot control
The tears when there is a death, you rush to comfort those in pain
When they need instead support and a firm hand.
A woman can take refuge in her humanity, she knows the truth that
Defines being human, and allows softness and beauty to smooth
The harshness of the cruelty of being man.
But you control me, your weakness swallows my power and hardness
And takes it into the warmth of the centre of you, and in doing so
You redefine the pain and suffering that is the essence of being human.
To be seen . . .
There is strength in being woman, for the power of the womb and the
Gift that is granted through bearing the child are beyond compare
And no mere man can understand these things.
But then you are weak, you cannot lift, you cannot hit,
You cannot fight back, you are useless and need a man to
Do for you those things you lack the muscle to achieve.
But there is more determination in the tears that are shed in private,
And more life gained from the deepest feelings that love allows
A woman to feel for her child, than is ever known to man.
But you are weak, you cry with emotion, you cannot control
The tears when there is a death, you rush to comfort those in pain
When they need instead support and a firm hand.
A woman can take refuge in her humanity, she knows the truth that
Defines being human, and allows softness and beauty to smooth
The harshness of the cruelty of being man.
But you control me, your weakness swallows my power and hardness
And takes it into the warmth of the centre of you, and in doing so
You redefine the pain and suffering that is the essence of being human.
Wednesday, 12 April 2017
GloPoWriMo 2017 - day ten
Today the prompt is to write a portrait of someone important to me.
To my granddaughter.
I cannot but be sad to see the way that you know are so like I was then,
But there is no changing the disposition of genetics, no adjusting of the
Genetic code to make things be different. And you have the curl in
Your hair, the twist that sometimes turns against the rest.
You have the eyes that gaze with wonder and a knowledge beyond
The understanding of those of us who watch you as you wander
Through this broken and damaged world.
In your laughter lies the key to reparation, the key to
Mending that which is so broken, and in your smile
Lies balm and peace to end all wars.
As time moves on you will grow and learn, and perhaps, just perhaps
You will lose some of the wisdom that you have now but cannot
Give words to express; or perhaps you will keep it, adding,
Day after day to its sum, and gaining only that which can
Build and heal, and make once again a world where all
Can live together in friendship, where fishes swim the rivers
And the seas, and where plants and man live with animals
In one great complementary global union of valuing difference.
In your hands is the future, guard it well.
(c) 2ndwitch, 10/04/17
To my granddaughter.
I cannot but be sad to see the way that you know are so like I was then,
But there is no changing the disposition of genetics, no adjusting of the
Genetic code to make things be different. And you have the curl in
Your hair, the twist that sometimes turns against the rest.
You have the eyes that gaze with wonder and a knowledge beyond
The understanding of those of us who watch you as you wander
Through this broken and damaged world.
In your laughter lies the key to reparation, the key to
Mending that which is so broken, and in your smile
Lies balm and peace to end all wars.
As time moves on you will grow and learn, and perhaps, just perhaps
You will lose some of the wisdom that you have now but cannot
Give words to express; or perhaps you will keep it, adding,
Day after day to its sum, and gaining only that which can
Build and heal, and make once again a world where all
Can live together in friendship, where fishes swim the rivers
And the seas, and where plants and man live with animals
In one great complementary global union of valuing difference.
In your hands is the future, guard it well.
(c) 2ndwitch, 10/04/17
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)