those who have never made promises to make us laugh
have their own temples in our hearts.
Stories that don’t need our mother’s tongue to be told better,
are these secret wishes that transcend cultures and generations.
“Be happy. May you be treated like how you treat strangers.”
The hum follows them out the front door or the hung up phone,
leaving a scent of their memories and the smell of their touch.
When we get back to the time and place that claims our need,
thoughts of our uprooting or some old days pronounce themselves.
We separate our meetings with the foolishness of distractions,
judging and admonishing ourselves for not knowing the difference – THIS is just loneliness.
If this was the cold, the chill could do full body cavity searches on us.
Yet, we derive the warmth in the surge of the love and kindness that has passed by,
spending days wishing how they could choose our idleness for sake of company.
Grasping and replaying their works of endearment on us,
gives us their strange abilities to pick up on the cracks in others’ voices
and the surprising spontaneity to make everyone else around us happy.
A knock on the door gets us ready to claim back our right to life,
and we make sure to quell the uproar of drum beats in our hearts around them.
Wondering if the longing of the heart was fundamental to us humans alone
makes us too proud to touch or ask, “Friend, when I die, will you cry?”
* * *
About The Article Author:
Our mission with FutureSTRONG Academy – to grow children who respect themselves, their time and their capabilities in a world where distractions are just a click or a swipe away.
I see myself as an advocate for bringing social, emotional and character development to families, schools and communities. I never want to let this idea out of my sight – Our children are not just GPAs. I’m a Writer and a Certified Master Coach in NLP and CBT. Until 2017, I was also a Big Data Scientist. In December of 2044, I hope to win the Nobel. Namasté.
Write to me or call me. Tell me what support from me looks like.
Program Director & Essential Life Skills Coach for Kids and Busy Parents
12 Ways To Write A Great Poem, And How To Inspire Your Reader To Action
* Great Ways To Write A Poem: 1. A great poem must inspire every reader to act.2. It should feel relevant, and the concept must have universal appeal.3. It’s a piece of art, so show your uniqueness with it.4. Life’s already a huge puzzle, so don’t lead your...
On How To Write. Writing Hacks, Compelling Story Telling And Essays On Life
On How To Write. Writing Hacks, Compelling Story Telling And Essays On Life “To me, a short story is a conversation between writer and reader, since only the writer can speak, she must take care to respect the reader, to avoid telling him what to think, to...
Many Predicaments In Life. Writing Poetry Cannot Be One.
Poetry “How do 1 see the big picture and hold the world’s pain, and at the same time see all of the bright edges of joy? I think that’s at the center of my question.” ~ Poet Ada Limón Questions, just ask! Text or Call: 678.310.5025 | Email:...
In the Age of Dank Memes, Why Read Poetry?
* Just A String Of Words? A good poem demands the dignity to be understood. History repeats in its resounding words. Repetition is a poem's strongest flavors. Poems are words with life because they're current and most urgent with their message to humanity. Yet,...
The Mother Of All Emotions
* Before you think you can put a finger on love, Think of the time you saw the size of the butter stick in your mother's pie. Think about how all your life, you'll work hard enough to make your mother proud, Yet, you'll look up to see if the whole world has...
Still Standing, Still Standing..
* The below is a first person account of a village tree who lost the friendship of a small boy to the big charm of the city.. * At day break, I wait for your shrill cries of laughter to pierce my ears..I ponder while I drink the primary...
The Emigrant’s Anthem
* I Pursuing dreams, First steps Beckoning opportunities, Across oceans Proud sacrifices, Glistening eyes * II Anxious freedom, Fertile memories Loyal sentiments, Burning dedication Liberating happiness, Humbled notions * III ...
You Know You’re a Mom When..
* You've wondered about your fear of death, when the only thing you have always been petrified about is your child digging into that forbidden closet or the bathroom cupboard to find out the secret stash of “things”? You've looked down on the bathroom floor to...
The Many Predicaments of a Single Woman
* She walks as a liberal icon among people who don’t realize their thoughts are their barbed wires. She'll march the streets for the disenfranchised, and maybe for those born with ugly faces, but not for them who have the talent for picking the wrong men. What...
Momentous: A Poem On The Value Of Time
* It’s not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst. You want to know what it is? It’s something you have or don’t more than I do, because there’s no straight finish line here. It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways...
When Home Is Still Here And We Aren’t
* Unlike refugees, who don't have a home behind or infront of them, we have a home. But, Will it remember all those mornings that the woodpecker made mating calls from its roof? How on sleepless nights, someone read and made notes from a borrowed J....
ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ.. (Dear Refugee, My Life Must Go On..)
* * * The original English version: Dear Refugee, my life must go on.. This poem appeared originally in The Saaranga Magazine HERE. * నన్నల్లుకున్న వెచ్చని కార్డిగన్, మెత్తని నా అరచేతుల మధ్య పొగలు కక్కే ‘లికరస్’ టీ........... పౌర హక్కుల్ని...
Why Darkness Can Be a Gift
If a person has any greatness inside, it comes to light, not in one flamboyant hour, but in the ledger of one’s daily work.~ Beryl Markham * Years ago, you had looked up to see if anyone loved what you wrote.You tried to look in their eyes to seeIf they...
Dear Refugee, My Life Must Go On..
* * * The translated Telugu version: ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ.. This poem appeared originally in The Saaranga Magazine HERE. * It's not too unthinkable,sipping licorice tea in my cardigan,And day dreaming of a life of civil liberties....
Momentous: A Poem On The Value Of Time
* It's not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst. You want to know what it is? It's something you have or don't more than I do, because there's no straight finish line here. It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways...
Perceiving My Anthropology
* I don't know what moves him. I remember the day he came back home to hide his red eyes behind that newspaper after he lit his mother's pyre. This is the man, the brunt of all my emotions, whose lifetime fits in this poem. It's mostly the appalling...
To My Estranged One
* Ok, I admit; I still have that shameful longingness. When you gathered everything else up and left me to myself, And, when the war of words ended, It was clear that the love between us had begun to show cracks. It would never happen to me, was the conviction...
* Always close by my side, he mocks me.Calling the lack of endearment around me,self-inflicted.Late in the afternoon, at work,“All these people around you need you tobreak their bread”, he mulls. At the bar,he demands to knowwhy I hadn't invited myself to her...
Questions, just ask!
Text or Call: 678.310.5025 | Email: email@example.com
Bringing a Group? Email us for a special price!