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november child

the curse of a sentimental heart & a skeptical mind

Category

wishes

Wishes

I wish I did not crave
tracing the tattoo on your arm.
I wish the grey at your temples
did not make me want to
run my fingers through your hair.
I wish I could unfeel the trails
your fingertips burnt onto my skin.
I wish your smile
did not reach your eyes.

I wish the willingness
to throw my life away
for this insane infatuation
was not plainly written on my face.

You were my poison,
you still are my folly.

 

© november child
photo credit: source unknown

 

絵馬 Ema

Small wooden plaques
breathe prayers
into unconcerned winds.

Heartfelt wishes
bleed hope
into indifferent rain.

Expectations
surrender
to an uncaring universe.

 

© november child
photo credit: Stefan Lins via flickr
Expectation

Hopes, Dreams & Wishes

Hopes, dreams, and wishes…
such overwrought creatures.
Little drama queens,
scattering grandiose ideas
like volcanoes spray ash.
Their exaggerated optimism
is quite annoying.
I have made it a habit
to misplace or
forget about them.

They never take kindly
to my pragmatic attitude,
rioting
in the back of my mind
with a vengeance.
My head rings with
their refusal
to be abandoned,
their insistence
I finally commit.

 

© november child
photo credit: wallpaperswide.com

Happy New Year

Auld Lang Syne

by Robert Burns

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,robert-burns-230px-pg_1063burns_naysmithcrop
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?

CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint-stoup!
and surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae run about the braes,
and pou’d the gowans fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
sin’ auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin’ auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!
and gie’s a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak’ a right gude-willie waught,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

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