10 July 2007
[Content Warning] A War Story (DRAFT)
The blinkers of education (Poem)
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Kayleen White
The blinkers of education
They do not see,
In those good ol’ blinkers
They who look ahead,
Straight and true,
And see naught but
the glint and gleam
of the gold.
They do not see,
In those good ol’ blinkers,
Though they know not,
they see not,
That their brand new shiny blinkers,
Are but an old toy,
In new guise,
With new name;
- we’ll save the taxpayers’ money,
say the …ists,
and call it something new,
economic rationalism.
They do not see,
In those good ol’ blinkers,
Of the fall of Rome,
The social decay,
the loss of social order,
that comes when promoting the sovereign realm’s coin
above the soul’s richness,
the striving of the down trodden,
to better their lot,
the old and passen by,
to know more
of the world they have seem so much of
for the growth and nourishment
of their soul
ere ‘tis goes back to
the great wherever.
© Kayleen White 2007
Reality Check (Poem)
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Kayleen White
Reality check
I found myself in a minority
- and surprising tho’ that ‘twas,
It wasn’t my choice,
It wasn’t nice,
and it wasn’t a minority of one
- which was rather nice.
My problems came, tho’,
when my inner glee,
Soon found my
shared minorities,
Had bits and pieces,
That really weren’t so
… nice, after all.
Oops.
and I had thought
the majority,
gave up
their moral worth,
when they created my latest minority.
But no,
those in my shared minorities
Were human,
after all,
and so, indeed,
were the majority.
So
… perhaps it’s time,
for all to be,
a little kinder
on thee
- whether thee be
part of a minority,
a clique of sailors,
a lesser known religion,
a race or sexuality
- or, indeed, a gender identity,
and not try to ram
their truth
down others truths’ throats,
whether those throats share
thy minority or not.
And I’ll
Most earnestly
promise to try
not to be so trusting,
naïve
and relived,
when I find my next minority
of those seeking
to not make the same
mistake twice.
After all,
variety is a spice.
© Kayleen White 2007
My Romance (Poem)
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Kayleen White
My Romance
They sit and watch,
those sideline shags,
they who can not compete;
“We want a wing,
tall and lanky
- and that, you’re not”
or
“We want a back,
stout and hard,
to be a speed bump
to that bouncy, flouncy, poncy
gazelle they call a forward
- and that, you’re not”
They have a way
- with words,
or
their eyes would say
“You’re black or queer,
or not blonde and pretty
- and that won’t do at all.”
Oh yes,
they have a way
- with words.
They sit and watch,
those sideline shags,
forlorn, losing themselves,
losing their soul’s innermost longings,
in others’ heroic deeds
- some daring,
in most immodest ways,
to judge those players worthy,
and those who are not.
© Kayleen White 2007
Crabby old grumps (Poem)
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Kayleen White
Crabby old grumps
I
would be
a leader.
For after all,
I’ve become
a crabby old grump
- doesn’t that mean
I know it all?
I
would be
a leader.
I made that call
quite some time ago,
but now,
I’ve become
a crabby old grump
- doesn’t that mean
I shouldn’t be at all
one who aspires
to be
a leader?
I’ve mocked those
who
lashed out
at what was different
to their knowns.
Perhaps that is the key
- for I try to listen,
to grow,
to be aware of things new and not yet known;
and I do my level best
to remember
the bricks I bashed against
when I was once also young.
My life has gone
awry
perhaps it is there I should look
for the cause of the grumps,
and not just
some weird malaise
that strikes those who like to think themselves
middle aged.
Of others I do not know,
But of myself,
I see I should be
in a place in life
more settled,
more assured,
before I try
to gain the place of trust
I seek others to give me.
©Kayleen White 2007
[Content Warning] A Death (Poem)
Sorry: the formatting has been bloody lost when I added the Content Warning - on several posts, and I don't have the time to fix them all so I won't fix any.
I undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit, of course :) Please also note that I check only occasionally for comments, so if you make any, please be patient. Kayleen White A Death Why do I let you get away with it? You have no respect you have no love - despite your words and claims to the contrary. I know, in my heart of hearts, I do not want to be here. So why do I stay? Is it the promise I made - the words given so gladly, so long ago? It would seem to be, to me. So why do I let you get away with it? Is it that I see you as a child unable to cope with change unable to cope with being looked after; You would have to go back live with your children make them look after you and that’s unfair - to all. My vision is probably not quite true. Truth. Truth is you were probably correct when you said we were growing apart. For I can no longer live in your tiny world, hemmed in between front gate and back, tied down limited to a life that thrills in a visit to the pokies. But still the question stands: why do I let you get away with the lies, the lack of respect, the forcing me to be a criminal? Do I really see us, you, I, and us, as so unable to cope? Do I fear your violence? After all, you once said, if I leave you, can you come to? You saw it as a funny line pinched from a song: I saw it as a threat - as usual, you didn’t see what I saw, just as you cannot see you’re killing me. Do I fear being a failure - or being seen as such, for we didn’t last this life. Do I feel guilt, that I have not been through the same living hell that other women have? Do I dare call you abuser? I have been as bad tempered as you I haven’t set you free so dare I call you abuser? After all, I am no saint - but still the question stands: why do I let you get away with it? Am I just a simple coward? I do not know; all I know, is that what I once so gladly made trove to is now a living hell, and I am not that which I should be. © Kayleen White 2007