Daily Prompt: Border

via Daily Prompt: Border

Borders are imagined, they’re arbitrary lines

To separate what is yours from what’s mine

People use it to further their hatred and greed

They claim it is proof of different races and creeds

But the line cant be seen, it isn’t there, its not real

You cannot touch it, or smell it, it doesn’t see it doesn’t feel

It once served a purpose; it had a use I am sure

But we have long since moved on, we aren’t like before

At least we shouldn’t be now, and without it who knows

Maybe acceptance and tolerance would have space to grow

But that which divides us, cannot claim to include

The people on the other side, the ones its excludes

Just as humans have, over centuries, evolved

So must our cultures, we need more people involved

For in sharing ideas, and blending our gifts

We can giving something back, we can be part of the shift

To a world without racism, nationalism and hate

To a world where we love lets have that be our fate

So yes, it is nice to win geographic lotteries

But there are so many who didn’t, who have no choice but to flee

To better their lives, just like we can do now

They don’t need our hatred they need our acceptance, but how

When we put so much stock in this silly old line

That we only see in books, so surely its time

To be rid of the borders, and open up the land

To be shared by everyone, so we can lend a helping hand

A borderless world – how I wish it could be

What we give to the future, what is our legacy

So lets stop the exclusion and learn from the past

Lets erase the the borders and let peace come at last.

Daily Prompt: Realize

via Daily Prompt: Realize

 

Truth comes at different times

Thruths often hurt more than lies

But when you wake up in the morning

And youre full of grief and mourning

What you have been burying for too long

What made you believe you were standing strong

Was a cover, a mask, that you hid behind

Convinced yourself was necessary, but to the truth you were blind

For being true to you, and feeling that pain

Could have saved so much time, could’ve lightened the weight

But you cant change it now, it iss there and its done

Just hope they accept you, you cant change for anyone

For the mask that you wore, that hid all of your hurt

Was not who you are, now you need to come first

And its ok that you’ve changed, that you’re not who they thought

Just stay true to you and do not contort

Yourself into something you cannot ever be

For its fake, a mirage, just shout “that’s not me”

If they hear you and love you, for who you truly are

They will be there tomorrow, they will never be far

To show you the love and care you need

You won’t feel tied down, you will finally be free

So sleep no more, its ok to open your eyes

Greet the new day, stop hiding, realize

You are worth more than you know

Its OK to shine, to change and to grow

Into who you are, the scars will remind you

Of all that you lost, all that you fought to put behind you.

Its a three syllable word full of shock, and surprise

Realize

Daily Prompt: Tree

via Daily Prompt: Tree

 

A tree I thought would never falter or fail

A tree I hoped would truly prevail

Through thick and thin, through tough times and good

I thought this tree was made of the strongest wood

But as the flood rises higher and higher each day

I realise this tree may soon wither away

All that remains will be the memories we hold

Of a tree that was once so strong and so bold

That could weather the toughest of storms

The harshest of winters, and the summers too warm

It sheltered in rain, in snow and in sun

The tree gave life, to every daughter and son

For the tree that I think of, and write about now

Is the family tree, of a family too proud

And a branch that has broken beyond all repair,

Will serve as a reminder of what used to be there

What held us together, what kept us all safe

Has long since departed and left loss in its wake

And although the emptiness and heartache we feel

Shall be with us forever, it won’t ever heal

There will come a time in spring, summer or fall

The tree will seed a sapling that will grow strong and grow tall

And the memory of the branch that we lost too swift and soon

will shade us from harm and glow in the warm light of the moon.

 

Broken

I have been dreaming about my mum a lot these past few weeks, i always do after the christmas period. I dream of her, and see her alive, not how she was before the accident, she has been gone for so long, but the person she was after – whom i loved so much. I see her, i hug her, i laugh with her, and then i wake – and all of the pain, all of the loss hits me all over again. I know that no matter how much time passes i will miss her, i will hurt – forever. My heart is broken, it can never truly be whole again, a piece is gone. And whilst this knowledge is sometimes too much to bare, its how i know that it was real. i don’t have videos of the time we had with her, i don’t have that many pictures (a true regret), i don’t believe in heaven or hell, so i know i will never see her again, she exists only in my memory, in my mind and in my pain. I think of all the things that she must have looked forward to when she had children, the mile stones, and it is so painful, that she wont be there, that she missed them, how much it would have killed her to know that she would miss them. i suppose it was a gift that she never knew what she was missing the years she was here. She didn’t know who we were, she didn’t know that she was missing anything. I know i will carry her with me, but i just wish i could see her, just for 1 minute, just to hear her say she loves me, that its ok…  but i cant. My heart will forever be broken because she is gone. x

I think that too many people believe or feel that happiness is the destination that if they can just find “perfection” they will be happy, as opposed to just seeing the here and now for its infinite beauty. Cherishing those who mean the most you, seeing the best in people (who others may feel do not deserve it), forgiving people who have wronged you, and giving time to people just because you can. There will of course be shit times at some point, but hopefully there will be the ones you love to surround you with love, comfort, time and forgiveness and who will help you to see the beauty in the world that maybe you forgot existed. 

Grapes of WRATH

Omg so the war wages on. However, the banana and yoghurt has now been defeated, in its place, GRAPES. that are chewed with such violence that a passer by may think he had a vendetta against this lovely fruit. this is not the case – clearly the vendetta is against my ears. i have turned the volume on my laptop to the loudest setting and have been blasting out Michael Bublé and singing along to no avail. i thought that maybe if i sang along it might prove an efficient weapon – this plan was thwarted as he clearly was not bothered. i have clearly underestimated my nemesis. that or he is upping his game… well two can play at that game. My ally in the house has been aiding me. we talk about sex, attractive men, women, play youtube videos of graham norton interviewing the women and men that we find attractive, played sexual songs…. but this isnt enough. his will remains stronger than ever. how will i break him? 

Running out of innapropriate things to google

It’s not how it sounds…. but every time generalissimo peesalot comes into the living kitchen area and i am on my laptop he insists on standing behind me and staring at my screen as if it is any of his business. so in an attempt to stop this i google lingerie or anything sex clothes, toys etc. as he is very religious and doesn’t believe in premarital sex… some may say that this is not a nice thing to do – to them i respond: nor is staring at my screen. as what i do on my laptop has nothing to do with you! MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!

Just Breathe

“Cry ‘Havoc!’, and let slip the dogs of war”

The battle for the ground floor is still on going, his eating, drinking and post running habits remain unchanged. However he has decided that fighting the battle only on those fronts is no longer enough. he shall from here on out be called the T Rex, not because his arms are a disproportionate length to the rest of his body, or because he has a giant snout, it is because of the unbelievable amount of noise that he seems capable of producing no matter what he is doing. 

there is something about his manner, his air, his general being… that makes my blood boil. the chewing, the smell… the ear shattering noise he makes when he pees… as though he has Niagara falls in his bladder…u sit and wait for the stream to end… that at some point surely the noise alone would cause his “manhood” to rupture… but no. it continues. it never seems to end. the never ending stream of annoyance, i would say its a piss take but it seems to easy. I feel certain that if other people could hear it they would hypothesise over the cause of such a disturbance of the peace – maybe he stands far away from the bowl to practice aim, maybe his penis is so small the liquid has further to travel. I do not know… all I know is that it must end at some point. Surely. No one man should be able to pee for so long or so loudly. For so many others peeing is a sprint not a marathon. Surely his legs must get tired from standing and peeing for so long. Surely his bladder must be the size of Texas to store so much. Everyone relieves themselves in their own way, but it seems that every time he goes to pee it’s the superbowl or the olympics, he is going for gold and no one can stop him.

The noise begins before he has even reached the bathroom. He walks up the stairs, no no walks is the wrong word, he stomps up and down the stairs like a stampeding herd of bison. he slams the doors as if their mere presence has caused offence. how dare they open and close SLAM! and then there is the peeing. never in my life have i heard anyone pee with quite such volume. . I try not to imagine the way he holds himself or the way he stands when peeing, I find the thought to be as disturbing as the noise that I know is about to follow. The impending doom. I do not know another person who would want to be heard when peeing, who would not feel complete mortification at the sound of it travelling all through the house, and yet my housemate, the wharfer of food, the seeper of body odour, the T Rex of peeing, seems unfazed by the cacophony of sounds he produces. I often wonder whether he has some sort of condition that prevents him from hearing the noises that he produces… if only I could be so blessed. It seems mean to be so harsh, so judgemental, so annoyed by something that seems so uncontrollable… and yet the more he pees, chews and sweats, the more annoyed I become. How could I ever approach the noise of the peeing… how could I describe it to him. I would record it if I were not worried that the volume would damage my phone in some way, also if the thought of doing so wasn’t quite so disturbing. I can only imagine the looks on my fellow housemates faces at the sight of me perched outside the bathroom door recording his peeing… although I could probably stand in the neighbouring town and hear it with perfect clarity, the image still remains. I try to calculate the distance from the top of the bowl to the water within in order to figure out just how it can makes such a noise. Its like the hulk peeing into a polly pocket toilet on top of a microphone if you will, or something equally small.

So the battle will be fought on this front too i see… or rather hear. well i would say that two can play at that game, but i am incapable of peeing so loudly… i would be too afraid that the toilet bowl would shatter into a thousand white pieces from the force with which the urine hits the water. i feel confident that the power with which he pees could produce enough energy power a small town, or a large town if he has just consumed his pint of water. It seems strange to me that someone so skilled in Karate would make so much noise… he would be the worst ninja ever! everyone would hear him peeing before leaving the house. *pee noise* “ahhhh the T Rex is on the move, quick move the hostage”. though when in the house i feel like the hostage. I am trapped, not in an abandoned warehouse, or factory, nor in some creepy cabin in the woods, but rather a terraced house in the city, that seems designed to echo the unimaginable noise that emanates from the T Rex. i am subjected not to physical torture, but rather mental at the hands of this villain, Generalisimo peesalot if you will. 

 The peeing continues, as does my planning. i must find a way to defeat this man. i fear that violence is not the answer, it is a battle for PEACE and Quiet.

The Hunger Games… Literally

It is probably my biggest pet peeve… the sound of people eating… to me it is akin to a dog licking itself in its private parts, and who, when eating, wants to hear that noise? im sure if the dog could avoid that noise it would. but i find i get so angry at the sound of people chewing. its a blinding rage, if only it were a deafening one, then maybe i would not feel this way. unfortunately for me in my house, one of my housemates chews particularly loudly and in a manner that, at times i fear, might drive me to violence. in an attempt to prevent such an event from occurring (as im not a violent person and i dont think jail would suit me) i turn up the tv, or music, or anything really in order to drown out the sloppy slurpish sounds that seem to emanate from his mouth, the inhaling whilst chewing, the sounds of him attempting to lick his food to death, as opposed to using his teeth. during such times i truly believe my housemate sees this as a challenge. not completely unlike Barney Stinson. *turns up tv* “Challenge accepted”. and so the chewing noise gets louder and louder, the tv has by this point reached its maximum volume, and i have no other means of trying to drown out such a vile noise, but i can tell that he is going to keep chewing louder. Its a fight to the proverbial death, and there can be only one winner…. i search my brain for a solution, i curse the skies and think that if there were only an invention to prevent such a moment, if only i could escape the anger that it causes me. or if only i could get my housemate to hear what it is that i hear and understand how frustrating the noise is. i have tried to explain that i have no control over the reaction, but his response is a passive aggressive “sorry”. the kind of sorry that a 16 year old boy uses when he has done something wrong, but it so annoyed at being 16years old that its angry and harsh.  this of course does nothing to settle my mood. it only makes me more frustrated… perhaps i am fighting a losing battle, but just as his chewing gets louder so does my stubbornness, someone must win and so someone must lose, and i do not intend on losing this battle. Either he achieves his goal of licking his food to death or i beat him into submission. This fight to the death cannot last forever, i know that he can only eat for so long, and just when i think that maybe my salvation will at long last be delivered as he inhales those final bites, he gets out of his chair, heads to the kitchen, in my mind i am pleading that he put his dish in the sink and be done, that he alleviate my suffering, but instead, almost as though he senses my release, he picks up an apple and goes to the fridge to fetch a yogurt…. when i thought that nothing could be worse than the sounds he produced while licking and inhaling the previous course, i am swiftly proved wrong, as the noise of the yoghurt with the apple is so offensive to my ears i feel their desire to fall off. i feel the urge to pull a Van Gough, but not just one ear, no that was sloppy, no that will not do, they both must go. that or he must be dealt with in a manner fitting such a crime! Some may say this is an overreaction and to them i can only suggest listening to someone eating, really listen, hear the noises of which i write, and if it causes no frustration, no annoyance, no reaction whatsoever, then of you i am envious. the apple and yoghurt, i logically know, can only last so long. but it seems as though my nemesis has himself come to that realisation, and he begins to take smaller bites as if to preserve my agony just a little bit longer, as though it hasn’t drawn out long enough, it feels as though i have suffered this torture for an eternity… this on its own would be one thing, but i know that in just a matter of hours he will be going for a run. i applaud his desire to remain healthy, and i bid no ill will towards those who run… however, he enters the house after the hour long jaunt, and saunters into the kitchen living area seeping with sweat, drenched in body odour, and poors (As slowly as one possibly can) a pint of water. i understand the need to rehydrate, however the smell, the odour, the stench, the stink, if only there was an adequate word to explain such a “perfume”. it lingers in the air as he gulps the water down, smacking his teeth together as though there is something in the water that needs to be crushed other than my soul and sanity! swishing it around his mouth, just to torment me further. the gulping noise he makes as he swallows, the smacking and licking of his lips as he goes for another sip. the noise, the smell, the general being… i know this isnt fair, he is a friend, but in this moment anything goes.  this is WAR. there are no two ways about it. the chewing was the preamble, but the drinking and smell that was the declaration…