Sayings worth remembering

The “Anyway” poem that was found on Mother Theresa’s wall has often been attributed to her, though according to some sources, that’s not quite true. The author, Dr. Keith, wrote it when he was 19. Here’s his take on the issue, and the poem below.

The Final Analysis

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true friends;
succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

If you give the world the best you have, you may get kicked in the teeth
But give the world the best you have anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

Keep on smiling

I’m not giving him up. Not without a fight.

I’ve told my parents that I would break up with Raz if they objected, and my father has objected. Nothing, he said, would change his mind. Well, I’m going to try to change it.

Perhaps I’ll be going to hell for giving my parents grief. My father asked how I could even think of living with a man who doesn’t believe in the same God as I do. I should have told him: The same way you can do all the things you do and still have the gall to go to Church every Sunday. Apparently as long as you believe in God and follow a religion, you’re principled.

I’m not going to give Raz up without a fight. We shall see how this go. Anyone got a place for me to crash for a few days from Sunday? I’ll do my own laundry and stuff.

The person I’ll be hurting most is my mom and my grandmother. Sigh…

Does anyone wonder now why I hate religion, and especially those that try to impose RELIGIOUS rules on this country?

Edit: Oh, and a reason not to have a child:

Louis MacNeice- Prayer before Birth

I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
     club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
     with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
        on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
     to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
        in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
     when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
        my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
           my life when they murder by means of my
              hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
     old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
        frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
            waves call me to folly and the desert calls
              me to doom and the beggar refuses
                 my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
     come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
     humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
        would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
           one face, a thing, and against all those
              who would dissipate my entirety, would
                 blow me like thistledown hither and
                    thither or hither and thither
                       like water held in the
                          hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.

Cold, cloudy Wednesday

There’s something about a cloudy day that invites one to muse.
To ponder.
To let the thoughts roam.
To contemplate by the poolside of the mind.

There’s something about a cloudy day, that turns to a light rain.
It’s calming.
It’s depressing.
It’s dark.
But it’s light.

There’s something about a Wednesday.
Middle of the week.
Halfway through.
Look forward, look back.
No turning back.

Rain brings out…

A bit of poetry, and since Tarot.com told me to…

Dancing in the Rain

Heavy drops
Light music
Fingers tapping
Feet dancing

Quickly
Outside they’re running
Rain’s here
It’s shelter most search for

Inside, the air’s cold
Outside it’s cold
Touch of water on the skin
Shivers of delight within

Smiling at each other
They took the other’s hands
With a single step
Without any music
They began
Steps only they knew
Rhythm their bodies used
Melody they loved…

The rain fell
They danced
Wind blew
They shivered
But still they danced
Smiling at each other
Happiness
Joy
In simple things

Old lady by the sea

This started as an outline and became a poem. Oi enough with the angst already you guys up there!

Old lady by the sea

Remembering her youth

How she ran away from everything, in a fit, a moment of despair, desperation

Living alone, she knew the price she had to pay, but she wanted to be alone

She craved the touch of a human person, but never did. She never let anyone close to her, didn’t want anyone love her

Did she think herself unworthy of love? Perhaps so

Did she want to be loved? Yes and she knew this

But at the same time, she felt ashamed

Shameful for the way she treated the man she loved, and the one who loved her

Shamed for the fact that he was nothing but kind to her, even though they had their ups and downs

Shameful for not being able to wait before he came for her. Before she could pluck up the courage take him away

Angry at herself for being so foolish, so weak.

Angry at not trusting him. Angry at trusting herself.

Two extremes. Two painful emotions

From boundless joy to dark despair

From confidence to helplessness

Watching something you liked die

Angry at losing her temper at him

Angry at the tears that stung the eyes, knowing that to let them fall, or worse, be seen by him, would be miscontrued.

She didn’t want him to worry, she never did.

She didn’t like being helpless, didn’t like NOT being in control.

She wanted to blame someone for her current state, but she knew she was the one responsible for the monster she had become.

She pushed everyone away, yet struggled to hold them close.

Not alone again. Not the silence in the dark. Not the empty bed. Not the child’s adult wailing. Not the loneliness.

Not the hurt. Not the pain.

Just… nothingness.

From dust you were made, to dust you shall return.

So will it. So I shall.

Rainy days

Note: Today’s weather and music selection from Enma are very poem-inducing.

Grey skies greet the eye
Raindrops keep falling
Curl in blankets and happily sigh
The rain is finally home.

Lightning strikes
Thunder booms
Waking up to nature’s passing
The world is being washed anew

Open the door
The world is wet
The wind refreshes
All is well.

For the Sunshine behind the Clou

Sometimes we wonder
Most times we ponder
Was the Past the best?
Is the future secure?

Other times we hurt
Mostly others are pained
We wonder whether we are sane
Pushing others away
To save them from ourselves

Behind each cloud the Sun shines
Behind every rain cloud there’s hope
What does not kill us makes us stronger
Growing pains are hurtful and insane

The storms are long
The nights are lonely
The cold’s embrace is painful
Self-discovery is a sad road when the sun goes down

Yet deep within
There lies a deep well
Quiet times spent
Drawing strength from here
Is refreshing

Soul searching
With the courage
To go beyond the surface
Where the center of your being lies
Is called a skill, a gift, a talent
But what it is
Is Honesty.

The sun is honest
As are you
The sun burns
As do you
The sun warms
As do you
The sun enflames
As do you

You are a sun
Hidden by the clouds
The rains will pass
But you will remain

We love you. For
who you are
You are the child of the World
And so much more
You are the child of Humanity
And a Hope for the future.

Sending love
Patricia

Two paths diverged

Yes, based on the Robert Frost poem.

Two paths diverged in a bleak wood
One was full of flowers and life
But down this smooth road lay a rocky path
The promise of a beautiful summit far off in the distance

Two paths diverged in a bleak wood
One was alive but bland and twisting
Thorns lay ahead but then were emptiness
Unsure glimpses of colour peeked among the thorns

Two paths diverged in bleak wood
A fairy I saw, and his hand I took
“For now it’s rosy, but soon we’ll face troubles
If we hold each other’s hands, would you walk with me?”

Two paths diverged in a bleak wood
Not so bleak, choices made
Perhaps walking through this forest called Life
Isn’t so bleak anymore.


Copyright 2007-

Moving forward

Step by step
A new beat
A new heart
Fingers entwined
Hearts combined
Walking together on the same path
Living in the moment, enjoying the days.

Two

One simple step
One cry for help
Two hearts mended
Two lives entwined

Been a long time since I did a romance poem. Hmm… Could be better…