Myopic

Myopic

My opinion is in a messy box
It used to follow a sect of duck-trines in that same box
Duck-trines groomed in the form of a spider
It was caught in the spider’s web which wilt wider
It nursed the spider’s eggs
And attended to the in-sect corpses itself
Totally appending to the spider’s crane
It used to

But before that
My opinion used to love the rain
She got drenched one day
And cold she turned away
From that day, never to go out again
In a web to remain
To be intrinsically safe, warm and sane
But was she

Was she really sane
Nursing babies
Attending to corpses
Appending to cranes
All she wanted was to be free
Even if it meant to stand in the rain
She would rather be drenched with glee
‘It’ was ‘she’

‘She’ became ‘it’ as a tool in a box
She became one with a spider as a boss
She came to a heart when there was nothing but a messy box before her eyes
To run or to hide, but to stay was not an option, as the box was hers
So she swooshed and she swashed
With a broom held in the palms of her hands
And she gave only one reason
Now, she sees

Besties

Those that we bottled up and labeled ‘bestie‘
Back in time
Like the beasts of burden
Fell for us but we fell too

Soon we relieved our backs
And then fell for whoever caught them
This time falling first
Before going ahead to make with them
Our best-ties

Blood cakes

Blood cakes

The blood, it cakes under the sun
The blood on the soil
When you first hear of blood
Which is it you think of

Blood of goats, blood of humans
From sacrifices, from wars
Wars between worlds
Worlds ridden with fear

Fear oblivious of rhythm
Rhythm emptied of a piece
Peace that thrives in the recesses
Peace that prepares the blood of cows for merriment

The blood of cows do not come up first in our minds
Because that is not where our fear lies
And like nylon upon a sea bed
It is thoughts about ourselves and others closest to ourselves that floats lightest

It is the flies that hover around the blood that cakes under the sun
That reminds us of the peace we do crave from recesses deeper than our piece of flesh
But these blood cakes remind us that now
Blood spilling is a thing of the past and a history for the future

Be careful what you make history
It may haunt you down
Like the gossip of the flies as they hover over the blood on the soil
That cakes under the sun

Poetry in Pottery 2

Christ a poet

I held each piece in my palms, one piece at a time as if examining each piece.

“Read it out loud, ” said the potter. “what good is poetry if it is not read out loud? ” Scoffing he added, “It is no prose! ”

I picked one piece up and aloud I read :

Some things I’m going to do today
I’m going to look back tomorrow
And find them funny

Then I’ll ask God, why do I find these things funny?
And He’ll reply, ”You’re okay”
“Hmmm,” said the potter, urging me on.

I picked up another piece and again aloud I read :
Every child leaves a signature behind
A mark that says they were once here
That they had grown up there

Being upset over a child staining a sheet for example
Is as empty as getting furious over the natural order of things

haha “You…

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Poetry in Pottery

Christ a poet

I went to the potter’s house today ( not the one up for sale :D)

When I got in, the potter welcomed me and I got to see around. Then he set colorful pots before me.

“Poetry in clay jars”, he had said.

Poetry? Was being presented to me? In clay jars? I watched him set them and I found they were in the order of the colors of the rainbow. I marveled as the white light shone on them and yet they reflected different colors. (1 Corinthians 12:14)

“Select one.”

I pointed at the one I selected. I’d chosen the yellow pot.

“The Yellow Poet”, he said smiling.

The pot was suddenly raised before me and left to hit the ground in a ‘thud’. I shrieked, “But why!”

“Take a look at the jagged pieces. You’ll see how God’s strength is shown in our weaknesses.”

So I looked on…

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EverydayJesus Hates the Dark!

Christ a poet

Love Life; hate Darkness!

Love is light; hate is darkness.

Walking in love is light; walking in hate is darkness.

Walking in love is walking in light; walking in hate is walking in darkness.

Loving gives light; hating gives darkness.

Love makes you see; hate makes you blind

Love gives you enough light to see the best in your brother; hate gives you enough darkness not to see the good in your brother.

When you see, you do not stumble; when you are blind you stumble.

The Mutant sees because he has light; the world do not see because they have darkness.

Mutants are lights because they see and give sight; the world is dark because they do not see, and do give blindness.

Love is Life; hate is death

The Mutant is alive; the world is dead.

Love to live; hate to die

The Mutant loves because they are…

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Eating Chocolate Can Improve Math Skills

UberFacts

Eating chocolate could improve the brain’s ability to do math, a new study suggests.

Mental arithmetic became easier after volunteers had been given large amounts of compounds found in chocolate, called flavanols, in a hot cocoa drink.

They were also less likely to feel tired or mentally drained, the findings, presented at the British Psychological Society annual conference in Brighton show.

Prof David Kennedy, director of the brain, performance and nutrition research centre at Northumbria University, and a co-author of the study, said that chocolate could be beneficial for mentally challenging tasks.

The findings suggest students who binge on chocolate when revising for exams may gain a real benefit from doing so.

“For things that are difficult to do, mentally demanding things that maybe crop up in your work it could help,” Prof Kennedy said.

The flavanols, part of a group of chemicals called polyphenols, work by increasing the flow…

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#rhematown iss. 45

Christ a poet

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