Posts (page 2)

I'm stuck in this bus that nowhere goes,
When we'll reach no one knows,
a slow ,big coach,
That'll never approach
our unknown destination,
I'm in the bus called Procrastination.

I'm in a rented car,
And though it's green,
It pollutes my mind
For i'm in a car called debt
And instead of carbon emissions, I find
That this car emits fret and regret.

I'm on a train on haphazard tracks,
Don't have to drive, just sit back and relax,
But where it brings me
I cannot foresee,
At any time I may be put in danger.
Because it's railroad Chance on which I'm passenger.

I am driving this rented car,
And though it goes quite fast,
I know I'll never go too far,
Because the engine never  seems to last
For i'm in a car called favours
That's powered by friends and neighbours.

One day when I was deluged in ennui
-that means I was bored to a great degree,
I decided to enter holy matrimony
-that means I decided to marry somebody.

But once I had entered the union
-that's what they call a marriage,
I discovered my wife was a symian
-obviously this was a miscarrage

Oh white rabbit with fur so plush,
Why are you always in a rush?
You always whiz by in a flurry,
Always seeming to be in such a hurry,
Why is it so?
I really must know.

Having no time to pause and explain,
Hardly having time to even inhale,
The rabbit hopped down the lane,
Till all I could see was his bushy white tail.

Then I sat down and thought,
We are like this rabbit, are we all not?
Always running around,
Having no time to even sit down,
But what is life if full of worry,
If we go through it in such a hurry?

We should all break this nasty habit,
Let's stop living as this busy rabbit,
Forget once in a while every worry and care,
Stop ourselves dead in our tracks
And pull up a chair,
And just sit down and relax.
Perhaps then we'll appreciate life more,
Or at least find it less of a chore.

Always be weary of your friends,
If there are problems, make amends,
Lest your friendship goes awry,
And former friends should make you cry

Never in your friends put too much trust,
Learn to doubt to them if you must,
For when your friendship falls apart
They won't be able to harm your heart.

Do not on your friends be afraid to spy,
Do not to your friends be afraid to lie,
For when the time comes to these things try,
Away from them you will not shy,

Never to your friends your secrets tell,
Nor ever let them know you too well,
For when your friends become your foes,
All the world your secrets knows.

I enjoy
lying in the grass
in the open field
by the hill,
staring up
at the wide blue sky,
as the butterflies
flutter by,
and the dragon flies
zoom past my eyes.

I enjoy
The quiet
peaceful sounds
of nature all around me.
The twitter of the birds
flying around,
the sound
 of tiny animal paws
thumping, beating against the ground.
the scratchy sound of a feral cat's claws,
against a tree bark,
and if I'm lucky,
the sweet song of a lark,
the occasional chipper
of the occasional squirrel
that can be found in the trees,
and even the sound of the grass,
bending in the breeze,
dancing in time
with the thousands of leaves.

I enjoy
The smells
around me;
I can smell colours,
green and blue,
with a sprinkling of yellow,
a dash of red too,
and sweetest and most delicate of all,
a spritz of purple
that comes and goes,
playing games with my nose.
And when I shake my feet
and wiggle my toes
And rub them against the ground,
I can smell the earthy brown.

I enjoy
the sensation
of the thousands of blades
of grass rubbing against me
and the tickle
of the lalang
that sometimes gets in my ear.
I love
the pleasant light tickle
of the small six legged creatures
that crawl on my skin;
ladybugs and ants,
and some which I can't name.

I enjoy
touching and feeling
all the life around me.
I love to watch the touch-me-not
close up so shyly,
even with the gentlest brush of my fingers.
I like feeling the soft petals
of the pretty flowers,
and the various textures
of the leaves,
some smooth,
some with prominent veins,
but each a pleasant tactile
sensation,
a haptic joy.

I enjoy
how the smell of nature lingers
in my hair,
long after I get up.
I love the fresh, pure air,
and how it invigorates me
long after I leave.
I could spend all my time,
just lying there,
in the grass
in the field
seeing,
hearing,
smelling,
feeling,
breathing.
I enjoy.

My exams,
They're coming too soon.
I've got menstrual cramps,
they came with the moon.

How am I to study,
When I've got PMS,
I'm so moody
and broody
Really I'm a mess.

I'm feeling so tired,
and terribly rotten,
like a cheese that's expired.
I've got an exam,
But my brain's all a jam.
And I've already forgotten,
everything I've studied.
My brain is jammed indeed.

I've got to prepare,
But I can hardly sit in my chair.
There's a pain in my head,
I'd rather just lie in bed.

I can't be bothered to try,
I want to cry,
Knowing the exam's next week.
My tears start to leak.

One day I went to a crocodile farm,
Fed the crocs some meat and had them charmed,
I fed them some bone,
And I wasn't harmed,
I fed them some stone,
And they bit off my arm!

One day as I was trekking through the sahara,
I saw what I thought was a llama,
Wearing an orange polka dot pajama,
And suddenly unfolded a drama,
The creature cried: "I can't find my mama!"
I asked him how it happend and so he replied: "I drank too much tequila!"
That's when I knew "This must be karma!"
So i told him to chant a mantra,
And sure enough, along came his mama, sipping a vodka and kahlua.

What is it about girls,
With their diamonds and pearls,
And how they spend hours to choose,
A pair of nice(?) shoes,
They can never decide what to wear,
And they spend ages doing their hair,
They'd squeal non stop over a young pup,
And take forever to make themselves up,
And don't you find,
That they can't make up their minds?
In all the wide world,
There never was a sillier thing than a girl.

What is it with boys,
They always make so much noise,
And want infinite toys,
They have no manners, grace or poise,
They're always so mean,
And you can never expect them to be clean.
When they grow up, they spend half their lives,
Searching for wives,
And when they're wives have been found,
They spend the rest of their time fooling around.
Really it's true that nothing can annoy
As much as a boy.