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Marriage – Best Explained

Poem: The Unravelling of a Christian Marriage – http://wp.me/p4xkgU-ii

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poem, poetry, rhyme, Uncategorized

A Beauty Certificate – Expiry date

Entering the world she was stamped with a beauty certificate

The terms and conditions read

“To be happy there is no need to gesticulate,

But only to be well bred”.

 

Now breeding does not come easy

Especially to the pure

And not to be cheesy

But for beauty – there is no cure

 

She was taught to smile, to sit upright

To say please, to say thank you

To lie, only when it was right

And most of all – never to be true

 

Her life was a whirlwind

Of autographs and pictures and the perfect smile of a mime

While a calm river was her mind

Of mathematical equations, laws and theories of time

 

To utter intelligence was shunned

For most were fickle

And the idea of “Brains and Beauty” did not tickle

And more often than not, it left them stunned

 

She was no more than her mask

Not a degree to her name (her mother would have no such thing)

Now Her beauty is slowly fading

Glory days are waning as she wonders where next to bask

 

More make up

Cover up

But what will she do when the wrinkle says “ Time’s up”?

 

 

 

 

poetry, Uncategorized

Looking through a magnifying Glass

 

It may be an actual tragedy

Or just s small problem

Most of the time it’s a parody

When we tell them,

 

“You’re looking at it through a MAgnifiying glass”

 

Now some may be guilty

For this they have done-

Taken pity

On themselves instead of having fun

 

“You’re looking at it through a MAgnifiying glass”

 

Time will come

When all we can do is watch

In clothes that match

Watch from the windowpane

In despair, in sorrow and in pain

For our bodies will not be worth much

 

“You’re looking at it through a MAgnifiying glass”

 

This time it will be too late

To lose the weight

Of the looking glass

That has become part of us.

 

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Trading Boards

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Come one come all. The crowd was alive as they poured into the hall (much like milk into a large cake bowl), filling every seat in every aisle. The stage was already preened and pruned for the first act. A yellow hat, a tiny mouse and bunny ears had the early birds of the audience taking their best bets on what awaited them in the minutes to come. Excitement danced on the corners of the eyes of the audience members as the lights were dimmed. The stage light shone on the actors that were born and bred in Bulawayo. From the moment the actors commenced their episode, they had the audience by the neck. Expectations were raised as curious riddles were spoken and further still there was a mounting anticipation as the story was narrated by the mouse. The audience, now on the edge of their seats, backs straight and ears erect (much like the ears of a dog listening for its owner) not wanting to miss a thing. Before the act was over both the youth and those in their golden years were tumbling off their chairs with tears streaming from their eyes from laughter.

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With spirits lifted high the scene changed leaving the audience wondering what could possibly top such a performance. Love, live romance and tragedy all wrapped up in one scene. The audience as silently held hands and fought for the damsel whose relationship was misunderstood by her father. Her love was declared futile by her father. Her fiancé shunned, by her father. The audience clenched their fists. Veins on their foreheads threatened to burst through their skin. His wife; unloved, not cared for, neglected, pleaded – almost on her knees- for things to be as they were. As though he were a close cousin to cold ice, he wouldn’t listen. His heart could not be thawed. The fate of the audience was not a good one; for they were given, as a farewell token : sore hearts and tissues glued to their eyes.

… (to be continued)

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Throw or Be Thrown : How To Throw Rubbish into a Bin

Rubbish come in all sizes and shapes as do their former owners. It can be quite daunting for a big high school child to throw paper into the bin, especially given the circumstance that the teacher is in full swing of delivering the message home.  The scenario plays along the lines of “ the teacher gives student material to paste into their book, the student accomplishes the task with fervent energy and then teacher forgets to allow for a class adjournment to throw the waste into the waste paper basket … Most students manage fairly well to hold in the mounting pressure to toss the paper into the bin while the teacher is talking. The pressure mounts to a climax until all the students are on the edge of their chairs, knuckles white from gripping the table in order to restrain themselves and eyes glistening not form the teacher’s powerful message but from the agonizing paces of the clock behind the teacher.

To avoid the torture brought about by the teacher’s mere slip of the mind can be quite simple, especially for a big fellow. Firstly, one needs to identify the victim that needs to be liberated from your desk and into the bin where they belong. Once the paper is identified, the most important, crucial, life-threatening step is initiated. The step that stands between you being thrown out of the class or the paper being successfully thrown into the bin is determining the size of the paper to be thrown away. For big fellows this not something to worry about as large volumes of paper can be smothered in between their thighs, suffocated within their barrel thick hand and occasionally crunched in their mouth without the teacher hearing more than a muffled sound.

For miniscule people however, this step must under no circumstances be taken lightly as these people run the risk of being publicly shamed when the teacher kicks them out of her classroom for “disrupting” the class. Such people must always have a jacket or two at their disposal.  These items of clothing, along with scarves in winter, server the same function as silencers in hand held guns.

For a perfect throw you must make sure that the crunched up paper mirrors a sphere with as many jaggered edges as possible. The razor edges slice though the air allowing the ball of paper to move at light speed towards the bin.

When the grand finale has arrived and the teacher is blaring out the most important statement of the lesson such that she is lost in the trance of her message, the throw can begin.

Arc your back, take in as few breaths as possible and no matter what you do, do not blink as it could rapture the teacher’s hypnotic state.  As the paper is sprung from your hands, simultaneously produce a loud preposterous sneeze or cough so as to draw attention from the prisoner fleeing your hand. The teacher will either glare at you for barbaric-seeming behavior or may offer a sarcastic pleasantry. Either way once the paper is freed from your desk your misery shall not return lest more work needs pasting in your book …