The Lady of Shalott

And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
The Lady of Shalott."

She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide-
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.

"Who is this? And what is here?"
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."

- Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Here I Lie

a) Here I lie, banned from sleep
a) My head doth ache, I ought to weep
a) And where hath thou gone, O thee I seek
b) Dependence on thee hath rendered me weak
b) I hath thou forsaken, with no reason to speak
b) Tossing and turning I've reached my preak
a) Consider thou, turning thy proverbial cheek
b) My fortune without thou seems dreadfully bleak...


I'm working on a closure

It's true..

Stone is Enough to Break a Glass,

One Sentence is Enough to Break a Heart,

One Second is Enough to Fall in Love,

and One Misunderstanding is Sufficient to Break Friendship.

Friendship is the Rainbow Between to Hearts.

I'm not sure who wrote this but some one sent it to me as an email and I thought I should share.

The Jaywalker

Eyes bright with hope as I wait for my chance
Cars speed by quickly, not one spares a glance

I wait and I wait for that moment to come
That moment is crucial and for it I’ll run

Patience advise me, I rush and I’m done
Alas, adrenaline and I ‘come twined into one

Immortal I am, invincible become
I surely am faster than any one

Such thoughts I believe
This instant conceived

I make my mad dash
Though it ends with a crash

I lay here now bleeding
Dear God am I breathing?

Nothing but lights
And I must be a sight

My plight this would not be, if only I’d waited
Luck this was not, but could only be fated

I wish I had waited, I wish I had waited

My dreams were many
Yet I die with no penny

What will they do?
Oh, this ill day I rue!

My children will starve, my mother will die
The only one left is my wife who will cry

All right she will have, how great is her loss
I’ve made a bad choice with unspeakable cost

And now in my homeland they lay me in ground
The mood is quite muted and sadness profound

I’m sorry my widow, don’t curse me to Hell
My dearest young children I bid you farewell

This is my end that I sorely regret
This tragedy, not me does it only affect.

Sux to be Mortal...

Is it so hard for you, those words?

I wait and wait, for them to be heard

Is it so foreign, a taboo you disdain?

I begin to believe I am but a raw pain

Deny this you will, for fear of the truth?

Speak of your mind, I won't hold you uncouth

I wonder, if ever or never, they'll come

Never, more likely, you effect to be numb

Here I am waiting, when will they come?

I guess you won't say them for just anyone....

Marked for Damned

It's funny how people act all high and mighty when they think they have reached some level of 'self-proclaimed' divine authority and think others can be dealt with however they see fit just because they can do such things. Riding high and drunk off of the simple humanitarian favors they with-hold from those upon whom it is rightfully due. Their day, for certain will come. I've marked it here in digital ink, a promise of retribution not far from this day. And who shall pity the fools on the day their arrogance is repaid in full with gracious interest. Laugh now foolish ones for you'll wish for the chance to laugh later...

Those you wrong lie in wait,

You are those whom they hate

Fear, you should, of your fate

Forgiveness you ask?

It's too late

Fury harbored does not abate

Damned you are, at this rate

Remember you well this important date

Forever in power you thought you'd bask?

Is not revenge a human trait?

Revenge is never a good thing but oh how sweet their downfall will be...

Defeated

Do you know this feeling?
A hole in your heart..
You don’t know how to fix it
Not a clue where to start..

Do you know this feeling?
A hollow feeling in your soul
Something gnawing at it daily
As if it has a goal..

Do you know this feeling?
A feeling that you’re odd
You realize you’re not wanted
Or like a pea without its pod

Do you know this feeling?
When your mind just won’t shut up
You wish to God for peace and calm
Frustration fills your cup..

Do you know this feeling?
You wish you’d stop existing
A wish that could be granted..
Would they even note you’re missing?

Lone Wish

When life seems disarray
And I’m furious with dismay
Depressing gloom is set to stay
Leave me not, does she, that way
Supports me firm, the moment I sway
Not many you find like that this day

The days when life seems bearable
She always seems most cheerful
Fills me with feelings incomparable
Grateful I am, yet fearful
She’s unique, irreplaceable
Words can’t really describe her full

Times of joy, she doubles more
Her smile and approval is my reward
True and sincere she makes me feel sure
Rivals the applause of a great horde
Forever her happiness, I pray and implore
And for a friend like her I thank my Lord

One day I hope, I can do equal for her
Says all that nothing withstands forever
And even if that the case it were
I hope our friendship comes not to sever

Stop (Another D.A. Poem)

I can't remember when it began,

But it needs to end.

Don't know who to trust,

Don't know what to feel.

Don't know who I can talk to,

Don't know how to change.

Is this right?

Am I wrong?

How the fuck am I to know what's right,

When I'm taught everything's wrong?

Everyone tells me their way is right,

I know everyone's wrong.

I know I am too,

But how do I fix it?

Don't know what's wrong with me,

Don't know who's right with me.

I can't hear me over my screaming.

I just wish it would stop.

D.A. Poem

I am holding my tears

I am cutting my loss

I am counting your lies

But the numbers stay gross

I am breaking your photo

I drink my own blood

I swallow my pride

And I laugh at the cut

You are under my skin

But I won’t let you in

you are a weak man

You keep asking me why

And the moment I try

You make me cry again

I love you I hate you my friend

I will always love you

For all of my life

I will always love you

You make me feel life

I always forgive you

Whatever you do

I close my eyes and

All I see is You

I love you I hate you my friend

Calming Pictures...

How I hate this aura that clouds my soul
A feeling so deep it's like a black hole
Grips me powerfully from head to sole
Feeding upon me like fire on coal

Sometimes the answer I think I've found
A key to lift me from this soiled ground
Suspect it not, the answer thought sound
For a while I find peace, the calm profound

And then "it" returns
Myself, it concerns
How long this term
Like a storm in churn

A day, I await, that'll brighten this slope
Or I'll be granted the power to cope
And rinse this away like dishwashing soap
It's the least of the things for which I hope

Heart of Pain

Here's a new poem I wrote last night.... (I wrote a couple of poems last night...one of them was about Gonu)

Heart of Pain


To the east or west
It matters no less
This pain lessens not
This pain in my chest

Morning and night
Although it I fight
Exhausting my might
Does nothing despite

For freedom I long
For this pain be gone
A mask of stone I don
To hide my pain from the throng

No day pass but this pain does throb
At times I do not but sob
It’s clear I have not the patience of “Job”

I envy not others for that which they have
But to watch them indeed makes me sad
Worthless indeed these I have

Lucky, I think, those without
For these pretend to be pious devout
Though their way a twisted route

There are times I wish them dead
Amongst other things best unsaid
More and more I’m losing my head

Demons in them I plainly see
It festers and bleeds
My heart in need

The day will come
When they are shun
So blame not anyone.

Graduation

::sighs:: I'm bored to tears T_T ... I want to write but "it's" just not there. I tried writing a poem for my friend's graduation - so not pleased with it...

Maybe I just need to stop wasting time and go study for my finals like a normal person..

Have a look at what happens when one forces themself to write:

[Graduation Day]

Is this not a day worthy of celebrating?

Four years of watching others reach this great day
Four years of memories, your personal play

Four years of good and bad times
Four years of stressful and carefree times

Four years of priceless memories
The Laughter of a ‘mate
Or the anxiety of a results wait

Four years and how much have you faced?
Four years, this day is proof, graced

Four years, no emotion spared
Disappointments occasional, Failure feared

Is this not a day worthy of celebrating?
A day to remember, a day of merry making

Celebrate this day with pride, joy and relief

A Friend's Pain

I try not to really think about it even though deep down I always hope that one day he’ll just miraculously walk in thru the front gate or one morning I’ll wake up and find him beside me curled in a cute ball of ruffled fur as he always used to do. There’s no denying the fact that I miss him more than anything. Of course I’ve lost friends before but I guess this is what it feels like to lose one’s best friend. It’s a pain that constantly remains with you, you can force yourself not to think about it and it retreats into a deep corner of your heart but the moment you aren’t actively fighting it it comes back hitting full force…

When is it going to heal? Is it even possible to heal?

“Once bitten, twice shy” Is that not how the saying goes? Yet I was a fool to be bitten once and then consenting to make it twice. And worse is the first wound amplified by the second…

When will this heal? Will it ever heal? This pain I carry and I feel…

Something to think about

December ’83 the date of sail
And sail it did 23 no fail
‘Tis vast sea around from prow to tail
No direction decided, no deeds to scale
By Divine Fate this won’t prevail
To exist and do nothing will not avail

I have found my “direction”
And can but hope for perfection
To teach with perfection my newfound obsession
The sea unappealing in such a profession
I truly feel ill when I see such aggression
The way of some teachers is only ‘suppression’
No good can come from suchlike transgressions

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Translation of the poem is below in blue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The things that go down in Al Mawahib Private School are just appalling. At the moment one teacher in particular stands out just dripping “evil” all over the school. Her name is Khadijah. I’m not sure what her last name is but if I knew it I’d post it here as well. I hope one day she stumbles across this blog and reads about how her own atrocities have found their way to the net, a blog no less were the amount of eyes that will read about her are unlimited. Ha ha. Maybe I’ll drop her a note with this address saying she might want to go have a look at a certain post. ::evil grins::

Anywayz the lady is British and believes she is God’s gift to mankind. She treats the kids like pieces of unwanted garbage and worse. Gives new meaning to the word “snob” as she is too good to return a greeting (I made the mistake of trying to be friendly in the hall a couple of times as I passed her and she totally gave me the upturned nose.)

She is the English and Science teacher for grade 2 at the school. Whenever I am going to my class or even sometimes I am standing in my classroom with the door closed, I hear that lady yelling – and not just raised voice cuz they are making too much noise, yelling yelling like a donkey screaming or the devil bellowing – at those poor kids. I cringe when I hear her voice and I know full well she can’t do anything to me. I can only imagine what those kids must feel. They don’t have the luxury of knowing that she can’t touch them or do anything to them cuz she does DO and she DOES do more than just touch. She took one boy, hit him in the head with a book, slapped him in the face, grabbed him and told him she’d “kill” him…. I don’t know what the reason for that was but I am damn sure there is no reason EVER to do that to any kid much less a student. The kid’s parents came in and the lady swore and denied everything. Two other boys saw her do it. They were called to testify and she swore they were lying. Even had the nerve to call God as her witness.

In another incident she called the Math teacher a “B!tch” in front of the whole 2nd Grade class. The math teacher stood in shock not believing what came out of that lady’s mouth and she then said “Yeah, u heard me I called u a B!tch.” At that moment one of the students asked: “Teacher what means B****?”

Lucky for the math teacher that there was an assistant teacher in the classroom and not just the kids. The administration always prefers to look the other way whenever the math teacher and Khadijah have fights. This time since the math teacher had a witness Khadijah was forced to apologize. She claimed that that language had “just slipped out”. Now I ask, how in blue hell does profanity just ‘slip out’ in the presence of a classroom full of little 2nd graders?

Yesterday I was supposed to go on a trip with my kids (I refer to my students as my kids) to the airport (We went and they embarrassed royal hell outta me). The principal said we were going to leave as soon as all the kids got there so it made no sense for me to trudge up those stairs to hangout in the forsaken musala. I sat down in the hall on an extra desk that had been pulled out of one of the classrooms. The desk was cattycorner to the grade 2 classroom. The door was sprawling open so I could hear Khadijah clearly. My ears hurt from the sound of her voice and I felt my blood warming up on its way to boiling. Hearing how she was speaking to those kids was angering me. Why the hell was she being allowed to continue teaching those kids? I was moments away from going to the principal and asking her what the hell was up with that (sure I know they are so damn desperate for teachers that they’d probably hire a twice convicted murderer if one came to apply. But that’s their fault that they are desperate, if they were decent and straight people great teachers would come running.) Just as I was rehearsing what I’d say and was really of full intention to go and say it, the principal walks by sees some kid and gives him a tongue lashing that rivaled those of Khadijah’s. It was like Damn, that’s why Khadijah is allowed to do such things cuz the principal is no different. The only thing she probably wouldn’t do is let profanity slip out in front of a class of kids – actually I take that back. If situation is right then I wouldn’t put it past her.

It was then while I was sitting there imagining all the ways those kids must be traumatized day in and day out 5 days a week by Her Highness Khadijah, that I decided I want to be a teacher. (lol I know I’m a teacher now, what I mean was to choose that as a career.) I know that my becoming a teacher won’t help all the kids who have horrible teachers but knowing that I at least was a good teacher for the kids I do teach and that I made a difference (I hope) for those few would make me happy.


1. My birth date.
2. I’ve now lived 23 years.
3. There are so many places (goals) a person can choose from.
4. And yet I haven’t decided on a goal or purpose to work towards/for, and haven’t accomplished anything of significance in all of this time.
5. It was fate that found me sitting in the hall yesterday and after hearing that lady with her class I finally decided what I wanted to do.
6. It’s impossible to live without any goal whatsoever (sure there are probably people who can live like that but it’s unsettling when u think about it. Makes me feel worthless.)

7. Sitting in that hall I made my decision and now have a ‘direction’ or goal to work towards.
8. Of course with anything a person does they want to do it the best they can or to the best of their abilities.
9. I will aim for being an excellent teacher.
10. Teaching isn’t fun when u have students who don’t wanna learn or the administration of the school is dishonest and twisted (MPS isn’t the only school that has a corrupted principal who sees nothing wrong with changing the grades on exam results!)
11. I feel really badly for those kids in grade 2.
12. That teacher isn’t the only one who is rough with kids. If you don’t make it interesting for the kids and squash out the things they deem important of course they are going to get bored and misbehave etc.
13. Those kids will probably be traumatized for life…

Inshalla they’ll get (the kids I mean…not that damn school, I hope that school crumbles by the time those kids reach grade 3) an amazing teacher in grade 3 and continue to have great teachers and hopefully they’ll forget about their second grade year.

Storm

A poem that attacked my brain today. I seem to have a knack for starting things and being unable to finish them - how pathetic.

When the clouds become one
And block away the light of the sun

The skies darken and the seas waves beat the shores
And the heavens shake the earth with suppressed roars

Then begins “their” descent
From the heavens to the earth they are meant

Descending in seemingly single file
Descending upon the earth’s bile

Droplet after droplet the streets and gutters fill
Drop by drop they collect until they spill

Darker and yet darker becomes the sky
The birds cease to fly

The wind makes known its existence in magnificent howls
And the clouds begin to spew forth from their bowels

Over the ocean the wind battles
With the force of a thousand cattle

Spreading and devouring all in her path
Trees leave their roots bowing to her wrath

Life

I am an actress, the world is my stage

The Lord, my Director

The angels, my audience

The holy book, my script

I am an actress, the world is my stage

Some people, my critics

While foes, my rivals

Supporting actors, my friends

I am an actress, the world is my stage

My job is to perform,

Till comes Premiere Day

........

I need some drano for this writer's block! The above came to me pretty easily, lachin I just can't find a suitable conclusion...

I hope this poem makes sense so far though.

Caffeine Found

Pun intended on Milton's "Paradise Lost", God, that had to be the crappiest, sheemot for a poem that I ever had to read in HS. (For those who don't know the poem and are curious to know about it without having to read the whole thing see wikipedia's summary) If truth be known that was one of the times I didn't bother to even read an assignment through. The exams were open book, so when questions were asked about that poem on the exam I just skimmed through the important parts and answered the questions.

As all can see I've sobered up, caffeine has definitely infiltrated my body... In the form of homemade choc-vanilla marbled cake - complete with choc icing. YUM! I can feel the traces of caffeine forcing its way through my veins....

It's so not a cappuccino though. I'm going to forget about my inbox and focus my energies on my TOP secret PROJECT. It's coming along nicely and I simply can't wait for the finished result!

On the subject of HS though.. tomorrow I have intentions to check and see if my diploma came, if so it might not be too late to pull some wasta strings and slam dunk myself into that uni this september. There's no such thing as impossible!

The Negligent Friend

Was preparing to do some 'forced' writing (what I say when I'm not in the mood to write but know I'll be happier to see finished work as opposed to a pile-up of started, neglected projects) when I came across a poem I had written in HS after reading Edgar Poe's "The Raven". I was infatuated with his style in that poem and attempted to write one imitating it. (It was assigned as extracurricular work...something I rarely did but for whatever reason it appealed to me so it became one of the few times I actually did something extra in HS.) I titled it "The Negligent Friend" .... Dunno why I chose to write about that, but I definitely had someone in mind. Here's the poem:

(the (a), (b), (c) signifies the rhyme scheme )

(a) I pace within my chamber
(b) What has possessed her so?
(a) I wonder what became her
(b) I treat her not so low
(b) What’s the problem, let me know………

(a) It’s her that I do favor
(b) Does she not see it so?
(a) For her I’d do such labor
(b) But she doesn’t seem to know
(b) Can’t you see? I’m not your foe………

(a) A thought I do not savor
(b) But a thought I can’t let go
(c) Have the ties of friendship broken?
(b) A question with an answer which I surely do not know
(b) If you hate me do say so…………………

(c) Could this be her thank-you token?
(b) And still I love her though……
(c) My thoughts grow so quite sulken
(b) Why is it she treats me so?
(b) Is there something I don’t know?…….

(a) Insults me with a laugh such makes me quaver
(b) Anger so suppressed I loathe to show
(a) Respect for her becomes as though a labor
(b) But still I love her though
(b) Why is it you treat me so?………………

(a) The scene is all the graver
(b) My anger starts to flow
(a) No cause for her behavior
(b) My anger does but grow
(b) Why is it you treat me so?
(b) Why Oh why, I want to know……………

(a) Sometimes I wish to change her
(b) But how, I do not know
(a) If my temper only tamer…..
(b) She just doesn’t seem to know

The poem was longer than this. It seems I didn't have the full version on the disk but I remember in the end there was something about this person being 'thrown' from my bedroom window. Hazardous thoughts...

Btw: Before anyone gets the wrong idea... "Love" in this poem is as one loves a close friend not anything else, yall know what I mean so no need to elaborate here, Capisce?

The Rape of the Lock

It was said that I generally take things too seriously. A false accusation I conclude, resulting from the misinterpretation of an event that took place. I had described the event as I had seen and experienced it with my brand (registered tradmark I might add) of satire. That's when the misinterpretation took place. In my opinion, satirizing everyday experiences that would normally piss one to hell and back is very relaxing. (call me 'insanity' reborn, but it's true.) It's rather refreshing to know that in a situaution where most would call curses upon the head of the ones responsible for the misfortune (God excluded, I'm talking about the ones immediately responsible for a misfortune...ie: You are driving along and suddenly your tire pops off cuz the monkeys in the garage didn't put it on properly. ) u can sit back and actually laugh. That sounds crazy, I know but it works and is great for anger management...

It wasn't until reading Alexander Pope's The Rape of the Lock (back in English Literature in HS) did I truly and fully understand and appreciate satire.

This post is dedicated to one of my fonder memories of HS (lol that poem)....

On another note: Poor Shakespeare, out done by yet another underdog....