As we're in this 'lovely' month, I've been going over my previous writings and guess whay I found out? My poor taste hasn't changed! Maybe I shouldn't use the term poor taste, maybe I should use 'illusion'. My illusions still stay the same. Still the same desires, wants etc. Some might call it determination, others a lack of growth.
Call it what you will, I'm a bit downhearted by it cos I'm now thinking, if after 4 years, it hasn't come to pass maybe I need to 'reshuffle the cabinet'? Oh what do I know? Nothing apparently, but one thing I know is that there wil be a right time, place and person. There has to be or so many of us are doomed! Oh dear!
Don't listen to the ramblings of a very tired old goat! Hold on to your dreams, they will happen.
First published 14th April 2007, here was my take on men, love and the whole shebang
I have found recently that I write about really elusive men, I mean men that don't exist for me, fine, handsome, intelligent, humorous men. Ok I lie, I have met some of these men but only in passing, either they are moving swiftly to other women or they are too absorbed in just how wonderful they are!
Yet I find myself making mental homage to these men that are only mine in a dream state where I reign supreme as 'The Desired' I have actually thought that if I were ever allowed to choose a name for myself it would be Desiree, the extra 'e' showing the extent of longing, but it would also show what strong narcissistic whims I enjoy.
Moving swiftly on, I look at many of my writings as a homage that that man that will never be and I don't feel bad about it anymore, I used to really feel angry when I was much younger (yeah!) That I couldn't find any man to fit that mould I had carved but now I'm not resigned, just accepting, that truth is really further from fiction, but...fiction is good, that is why so many millions of copies of 'Mills and Boon', 'Vogue' etc have sold, fiction is appealing and we would still get our noses stuck in it, just so that we can, for those 84 minutes (the longest it's taken me to finish one) just to indulge in that elevated reality.
I have taken to writing my own fiction, its familiar yet strange, shallow as a cup of water but deep enough to quench my thirst, it's mine so I can make it to be whatever I want and I do.
I'm rambling, so I'll just put in my latest offering to that man in the pages of my reverie and float away again.
HE
He is a dream
He is an easy dream
A delightful dream on a lazy day
Beautiful eyes let me lounge
I'll gladly lie eternal in this sleep
If you'll let me.
He is a tree
He is a graceful tree
A grand tree in a buoyant field
Wonderful hair let me roll
I'll gladly skirmish in your lush fragrant mane
If you'll let me.
He is an eagle
He is a majestic eagle
A strong eagle gliding in a blue sky
Graceful beast, let me fly
I'll gladly soar the winds with you
If you'll let me.
He is a river
He is a raging river
A strong river rushing out to face the sea
Splendid man, let me swim
I'll gladly be submerged under your will
If you'll let me.
He is a man
He is my man
A man worth writing slushy poetry for
Beautiful, wonderful, graceful, splendid man, let me be
I'll gladly move to whatever rhythm you beat
Just let me.
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Sunday, 6 February 2011
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
The Art of Forgiveness
Well, for those who read this jlog (a journal blog, get it) Thanks for your faithfulness and for those who just come and look at my lovely face, thanks for your whatever it is (fascination? ideas anyone?)
Earlier today I had wanted to write about how much I hated valentine and how I had never celebrated it as I always dated smart guys who picked a quarrel in January just to ensure we had split by February. Dissolving the cabinet as a friend put it.
I wanted to write about how I sent myself a valentine card at secondary school when I got fed up of everyone getting one each year and I having nothing to show for myself. I liked a guy (really, Demo, where are you?) but all my seniors liked him too and I don't have the strength to suffer for love (yeah, say what you will, I'm built like that)
I intended to eat my body weight in sweets and biscuits (I hate chocolate) and strangle anyone who gave me a pity face when I tell them I spent the day alone. I had planned to write all this, in fact I wrote it 3 times! This is my 4th attempt (I'm typing it first on Word, then cutting and pasting) Then I went to church (I can hear the hehen!, go on, I'll still speak) and as the sermon went on, I started thinking about all the men that had messed up my life either directly or indirectly, some have messed me up more than others and I realised, I still hated them, oh yes, I'm very good with the 'I'm good, lets remain friends' thing but I still hope they never find happiness and daily knock themselves for letting someone as wonderful as myself go.
Then I realised I had to let them go, really forgive, and then I could really move on and be. (As you would have guessed the service was on forgiveness and building each other up)
So I have stopped detesting, I have stopped hating, I am now forgiving and letting go.
I forgive the boy who said 'I love you' and said it to my best friend too
The one who made me cook for him, then said it tasted crude
My pardon to the one who farted and blamed it on me
The one who wouldn't wash, wouldn't brush, or simply would not flush
The one who left the toilet seat up, or messed it with paper
The one who licked the plate after lunch and slurped his water
The one whose mum didn't like me, she said I was too fat
The one who said he liked my body if only I could lose the pouch
The one who hunched, belched his lunch, rolled his hips like a girl
The one who told everyone, I liked it rough and loud and a bit cruel (not true)
The fat , the thin, the bald, the weak, the bigoted arrogant fool
The one who named my boobs but said my ass gave him no clue
The one who got married on my birthday, the one who broke up with me
The timid one who sent a text saying, 'its not you but surely not me'
The flashy one, the messy one, the stark raving sex machine
The poet, the singer, the builder, the lover, the one's who's in between
The one turned gay, the gay who played straight, the one who became a woman
The one who made me sit on his knee, play dress up, or scream out his name and
the one got my heart but had to get away
I forgive these men, all these men, give all my pain away
But this is for the next man, who comes, if you're just as messed up,
Please stay away
Ps: in case I still have injuns reading my journal, the above was meant to be a poem, not real!
Earlier today I had wanted to write about how much I hated valentine and how I had never celebrated it as I always dated smart guys who picked a quarrel in January just to ensure we had split by February. Dissolving the cabinet as a friend put it.
I wanted to write about how I sent myself a valentine card at secondary school when I got fed up of everyone getting one each year and I having nothing to show for myself. I liked a guy (really, Demo, where are you?) but all my seniors liked him too and I don't have the strength to suffer for love (yeah, say what you will, I'm built like that)
I intended to eat my body weight in sweets and biscuits (I hate chocolate) and strangle anyone who gave me a pity face when I tell them I spent the day alone. I had planned to write all this, in fact I wrote it 3 times! This is my 4th attempt (I'm typing it first on Word, then cutting and pasting) Then I went to church (I can hear the hehen!, go on, I'll still speak) and as the sermon went on, I started thinking about all the men that had messed up my life either directly or indirectly, some have messed me up more than others and I realised, I still hated them, oh yes, I'm very good with the 'I'm good, lets remain friends' thing but I still hope they never find happiness and daily knock themselves for letting someone as wonderful as myself go.
Then I realised I had to let them go, really forgive, and then I could really move on and be. (As you would have guessed the service was on forgiveness and building each other up)
So I have stopped detesting, I have stopped hating, I am now forgiving and letting go.
I forgive the boy who said 'I love you' and said it to my best friend too
The one who made me cook for him, then said it tasted crude
My pardon to the one who farted and blamed it on me
The one who wouldn't wash, wouldn't brush, or simply would not flush
The one who left the toilet seat up, or messed it with paper
The one who licked the plate after lunch and slurped his water
The one whose mum didn't like me, she said I was too fat
The one who said he liked my body if only I could lose the pouch
The one who hunched, belched his lunch, rolled his hips like a girl
The one who told everyone, I liked it rough and loud and a bit cruel (not true)
The fat , the thin, the bald, the weak, the bigoted arrogant fool
The one who named my boobs but said my ass gave him no clue
The one who got married on my birthday, the one who broke up with me
The timid one who sent a text saying, 'its not you but surely not me'
The flashy one, the messy one, the stark raving sex machine
The poet, the singer, the builder, the lover, the one's who's in between
The one turned gay, the gay who played straight, the one who became a woman
The one who made me sit on his knee, play dress up, or scream out his name and
the one got my heart but had to get away
I forgive these men, all these men, give all my pain away
But this is for the next man, who comes, if you're just as messed up,
Please stay away
Ps: in case I still have injuns reading my journal, the above was meant to be a poem, not real!
Of Mice and Men
As you know this is an old post, but its so relevant because guess what?! Valentine is almost upon us again and the marketing franchise is at it again! So here something old becoming new, written when I was blue but now I'm brand new! (see what I did there?)
Ahhhhhhhhhggggggggg!
I'm TIRED of being alone!!! There! I said it! Now will everyone stop telling me how I should go about getting a guy or why I don't have a guy and simply introduce me to a guy. I mean I keep getting friends saying things like 'Oh and I know this guy, you guys would have been so good together BUT he's gay, engaged, unserious, not a Christian, an atheist, a player, short, bald, ugly, dirty, mummy's boy, fat, skinny, has pimples, Igbo, Hausa, Yoruba, Congolese, a fisherman etc...'(Which makes me wonder, what kind of friends do I have that they have such men in their circle?)
These friends are dating relatively normal men but when it gets to me, suddenly, all the men they know are Quasimodo incarnates! With friends like these who can avoid being an old maid? Shelf here I come! Just stick a 'repossess' sticker on me, cos at this rate, sell-by dates won't help. So I say it again, if you can't help me, don't point out my 'problem' ok or I'll be having yah! Anyways here's another poem, its been a while abi...sorry, been busy trying to get into Notre Dame! (you get?) Enjoy! One can never know what goes on in the mind of a man.
There never seems to be enough co ordinates between their thoughts and actions! Moreover, with the whole 'idea' that they are ruled by the contents of their pants and not their heads, that would seem quite right. (Accuse me of generalisation, if you will, I'm just quoting the common consensus) Therefore the whole mechanics of the 'Who, What, Where and How' (I presume, y'all know that a wise man never asks a woman 'Why?') is something that needs fine application to be able to get anywhere in a relationship.
And as I'm not the best when it comes to that (I only talk the talk ok, never been able to walk it) I leave it at this...
It is an abyss
This thing we call us
You not understanding me
I not reading you right
We come together, we fall
You rise, I crawl
We both speaking
Neither heard
We could be registered members of confused dot com
I'm reaching out but can't see
Your fine form of telepathy
You say my words aren't plain
they have more than they say
I wish your yea would be yea
So indeed, my nay would be as it says
But we'll keep second guessing wanting to know,
though not revealing
It is indeed an abyss
This thing called us
I know some of the lines are groan worthy but as I always say to my dear friend 'Millie'- Deal with it!
Ahhhhhhhhhggggggggg!
I'm TIRED of being alone!!! There! I said it! Now will everyone stop telling me how I should go about getting a guy or why I don't have a guy and simply introduce me to a guy. I mean I keep getting friends saying things like 'Oh and I know this guy, you guys would have been so good together BUT he's gay, engaged, unserious, not a Christian, an atheist, a player, short, bald, ugly, dirty, mummy's boy, fat, skinny, has pimples, Igbo, Hausa, Yoruba, Congolese, a fisherman etc...'(Which makes me wonder, what kind of friends do I have that they have such men in their circle?)
These friends are dating relatively normal men but when it gets to me, suddenly, all the men they know are Quasimodo incarnates! With friends like these who can avoid being an old maid? Shelf here I come! Just stick a 'repossess' sticker on me, cos at this rate, sell-by dates won't help. So I say it again, if you can't help me, don't point out my 'problem' ok or I'll be having yah! Anyways here's another poem, its been a while abi...sorry, been busy trying to get into Notre Dame! (you get?) Enjoy! One can never know what goes on in the mind of a man.
There never seems to be enough co ordinates between their thoughts and actions! Moreover, with the whole 'idea' that they are ruled by the contents of their pants and not their heads, that would seem quite right. (Accuse me of generalisation, if you will, I'm just quoting the common consensus) Therefore the whole mechanics of the 'Who, What, Where and How' (I presume, y'all know that a wise man never asks a woman 'Why?') is something that needs fine application to be able to get anywhere in a relationship.
And as I'm not the best when it comes to that (I only talk the talk ok, never been able to walk it) I leave it at this...
It is an abyss
This thing we call us
You not understanding me
I not reading you right
We come together, we fall
You rise, I crawl
We both speaking
Neither heard
We could be registered members of confused dot com
I'm reaching out but can't see
Your fine form of telepathy
You say my words aren't plain
they have more than they say
I wish your yea would be yea
So indeed, my nay would be as it says
But we'll keep second guessing wanting to know,
though not revealing
It is indeed an abyss
This thing called us
I know some of the lines are groan worthy but as I always say to my dear friend 'Millie'- Deal with it!
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