How is it that despite child proofing your home to the best of your abilities, they find a way to injure themselves??
Decadent thoughts blight
the once beautiful
Life's rewards for
the faithful's watch.
Floating on dark, gloomy
waters of humanity
A constant struggle
against the inevitable sinking.
Pressures, now stilled
rechanneled to naively targets
This bloated carnival
awaits the recycling order.
8 comments:
That is a lovely flower! As for an answer to your question, that is a hard one to answer, especially when these things can happen right under our noses too! We just have to keep as safe as we can, and before we know it, they are all grown up and we can sit back and laugh at some of those scary times! Thanks for such lovely words....they make me smile!
Interesting poem! I love the picture you liked to.
The Golden Eagle
The Eagle's Aerial Perspective
From birth my daughter was a night owl. She would stay up until the wee hours of night; her hours really conflicted with mine, so I had to safe proof her room and off to sleep I'd go.
Fortunately she stayed in her room and never was injured in anyway. She would stay up for hours playing with her toys.
Kids will be kid - I suppose sometimes no matter how hard you try- injury is just a part of a kids life; hopefully the injury is nothing major.
She remained a night owl well into her teen years and beyond.
I hope you and your nephews have a wonderful time together!
In my opinion the poem reveals a deep sadness; not only for the "state" of humanity; also for the inner "being" of the watcher as a result of the "state" of humanity.
The watchers await change - the hope is that it will happen.
There are those within this realm of things that never fit in- simply because they are who they are and the rest of humanity is what it is.
http://bettyalark.blogspot.com
Lovely musings. But to answer your questions. We always want to "fix" everything, even when our children are grown, and we cannot, and that is the pain of being a parent.
Hi Rek. This is a beautiful poem.
Enjoy your nephews.
Denise
Beautiful poem. And yup, no matter what you do, children will find a way to gets bumps and bruises.
Have a great time with your nephews, Rek. Yeah, kids get hurt just grabbing, or eating, crayons.
Whenever I read your poetry, I feel like I'm floating along with the words. It's a wonderful trance-like state. I especially like the tension in this piece and the final phrase "recycling order."
Be well.
xoRobyn
You know how to get a kid to stick a crayon up his nose? Tell him, not to stick a crayon up his nose...
Very nice poem Rek!
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Glad you made it this far...would love to hear your take on the words scribbled. A comment every now and then keeps the blues away. :D
Since, crazy Mr. Blogspot won't let me reply to the comments here (is upset with the water ladies ever since they refused to verify visitors)...will do the next best thing, drop in to your blog to say my Vanakkam/Namaste/Salaam/Hello.