Posts tagged ‘Gigglinggranny’

Poem: I’m A Weed

Self Portrait

Digital Self Portrait, using SketchBookExpress

I’m A Weed

 –

I’m a weed, hearty and strong.

Went to school, didn’t belong.

Teachers want us pruned and tamed.

Tried to heed.  To sit still aimed.

 –

I’m a weed.  My roots grew strong.

Teachers said ‘Doing it wrong!’.

Pushing through, inquisitive.

Weeds, it seems, quite intrusive.

 –

I’m a weed, once a flower.

Over beds, my leaves tower.

In today’s garden, don’t fit in.

Is being different such a sin?

June Nash

We seem to live in an era where everyone is expected to fit into a mold.  Children who do not fit easily into these molds are often wonderful kids.  They are like weeds.  Wild flowers, they grow strong, even if a bit out of control.  These kids are our future.  We cannot pluck them out of our schools and toss them in the compost pile.  Or worse yet, spray them with poison to keep them under control.

10/30/2012 at 10:10 AM Leave a comment

Poem About Feeling Trapped

Trapped

Rules on us strapped

Are feeling trapped

Cannot escape

Need new landscape

Must book, break loose

Feel cooked, like goose

Lose restrictions

Kill constrictions

Walls must come down

Remove this crown

Thorns cutting deep

Disturbing sleep

Morning will wake

Feelings won’t shake.

Must cut the chain

Or trapped remain.

June Nash

Sometimes the rules we have to live by make us feel trapped.  There are too many.  They do not make sense to us.  They are other peoples rules that do not feel like they apply to us.  

We have a choice.  We can break loose of this chain of laws that bind us, or we can do nothing, remaining trapped.

09/20/2012 at 6:19 AM 1 comment

Poem about Strong Coffee

Strong Coffee

Strong coffee, puts hair on chest

A brew that out brags the best.

Boy friend says I shouldn’t drink

Afraid of results I think.

 June Nash

 

I love coffee!  The stronger the better.  Mine is said to put hair on your chest.  

Being a girl, that isn’t such a nice result!  Maybe I shouldn’t be drinking such strong coffee!  

09/18/2012 at 6:33 AM Leave a comment

Poem about Too Many Rules

Rules

When, of rules, there are a slew,

Need to learn how these to skew.

Learn, must, to warrant action.

Thus, aid in passion’s traction.

Rules, when only one or two,

May not like but will make do.

When too many to abide,

Often must break them and hide.

Hiding sometimes in closet,

Sometime we justify it.

Tell selves rule is suggestion

Not a real regulation.

June Nash

 

Are you, or have you known someone who was given too many rules to follow?

Do they hide, breaking rules on the sly?  Do they find loop holes in the rules?  Justifying the things that they do? 

 

Don’t you think that if we had less rules, a manageable list of rules for living together in peace, we could follow them more consistently?

Who likes too many rules?

09/16/2012 at 6:20 AM Leave a comment

Poem: Weigh In

Weigh In

Need to diet, try to fit in

To society that promotes thin.

Once could tickle throat with feather,

Take pills, enemas, what ever.

Now they say it’s  a disorder,

Not a fad, where is the border?

 –

Skinny is still the style of choice.

Fat people, to be thin, rejoice.

Lift weights, do aerobics, kick box,

The goal is, not fit, to be a fox.

Cannot use those bulimic tricks,

Must use some new fangled gimmicks.

 –

To be myself, if a bit plump,

At this goal, my soul wants to jump.

Scorned by all, including doctors.

They don’t weigh in all the factors.

Eating things that make ones heart gleam,

Boosts mood, are best foods.  Eat ice cream!

June Nash

 

When I was a young girl, I remember my mother talking with her sisters about how to control their weight.  Back then, anything that worked was a good method.  This included methods that are now considered to be bulimic in nature.  

Today, we know better than to force ourselves to vomit in an effort to keep our weight under control.  There are many very good sources, for weight control, we can tap into that provide sensible eating and fitness guidelines.  Yet an equal amount of sources exist, that for a slight fee, can give us access to a quick fix. 

The goal of course is to be thin.  Thin is healthy.  Thin is sexy.

I am tired of being expected to fit into a mold.  I want to eat my ice cream.

So when I weigh in, I weigh in the benefits of losing a few pounds compared to the peace and comfort I receive from a dish of ice cream. 

Ice cream wins!

09/15/2012 at 6:00 AM Leave a comment

Poem about Jumping From Rut

Jump Paths

Seven seems to be the number

Years ‘til routine’s torn asunder.

Rips, tears, they can be seen before,

Coping, but will not take much more.

People, some, they call it an itch,

That which makes our ticker to twitch.

I say it is time passing by

Years that make us look up and cry.

Time, no, itself not the issue

Changes, situations,  ensue.

I will not, with this itching, live

I’ll jump paths before ground will give.

 June Nash

 

 

I recently recalled a conversation with a friend.  It was about the seven year itch.  What causes people, after about seven years time, to become dissatisfied with their lives?  We concluded that it wasn’t time passing, but situations in our lives changing when we are left, standing, still.  We then decided we can keep out of these ruts by jumping to new paths  constantly on our journeys through life.

09/13/2012 at 5:52 AM Leave a comment

Poem: Autumn Years

Autumn Years

My back, it aches, not a bit.

A lot!  Drives me into fit.

Get up, stretch, it does not help.

Now and then, let out a yelp.

Bad fate, crippled in my prime.

Though Motrin, works most the time.

October trees, whose leaves fall

In spring will get back them all.

In the autumn of my years

Spring won’t come erase my tears.

Thinning hair and achy joints,

Upon my body, life anoints.

These ailments, to name a few,

Not much about this can do.

Take my pills and plug along.

Hoping nothing else goes wrong.

 June Nash

My back is bothering me today.  I am in pain.  I am thinking about the crazy weather we are having.  It is cold one day, and summery the next.  Fall is in the air.  Winter will be here soon.  The trees are already starting to lose their leaves.  When spring time comes, the leaves will come back.  That is not true for people.  The doctors may be able to help.  Correct some of the problems, but. . . spring will never bring new growth for this aging body that is in it’s autumn years. 

09/11/2012 at 5:00 AM Leave a comment

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Original poetry. Copyright 2012, June Nash

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