poem

By The Way…

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By the way,
if you choose to wait until you’re READY
you’ll never be.
And, there’s always two sides to a thing.
1. She could interfere with your journey to self-discovery
(which FYI is never ending)
or 2. She could enrich it, enliven it
and full-blown cultivate
with heart plenty.
Though I guess
excuses
excuses are free.

My future house

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All those flowers you paint
I want them in my future house
In the library room
cookbooks, Roald Dahl
in the kitchen
secret chef mouse
pretty herb pot-plant
colorful spice rack
and a kind husband
returning home to his favorite
muffins
rising in the oven
sweet jams
In the living room
a barefooted dance
on sun-warmed Persian carpet
the one my grandpa wove
especially for us
soles
souls
gently loving
slow caressing
cat

Japan Survival Tip No463

A while back, I asked my insanely talented artist friend Dean Scott, to do an illustration for the following poem for me. Yesterday, he sent me this. I was/I am/I will probably always be, stunned by it’s originality! So cool. Do you like it, too? I know you do! So go ahead and check out the rest of his gems HERE. Also, Dean makes GREAT curry which is an important statement both in general and for the purpose of iaccidentlyatethewholething.

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When travelling,
one need adopt
new skills
in order to pull
through
foreign territory.
Japan survival tip no463:
persistently check
teeth
for seaweed.

My thighs

Currently writing poems with my second-grade students. Two styles. First, one word first line, two words second line, three words third line, four words fourth line then last line, one (1, 2, 3, 4, 1). Second, Haiku (syllables: 5, 7, 5).

Cellulite
is growing
with light speed
in and around my
butt

Oh my ghee doughnut
how did all this cellulite
get around my butt?

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A little poetry outlining my current situation. But it’s okay, nothing last forever. Ok, maybe cellulite does. Alas, I dream of the days when I’ve left my current job, where I have to be seated at my desk between classes and in school holidays, for the entire day because the students are on break and the teachers are not (strange country), and the days I leave my rural home, where not only my workplace but supermarkets/cafes and civilization in general are an hours drive. Excuses, excuses, I hear ya. ALL OF ME hears ya. GAH. Also, Japanese homes aren’t built for the cold.. making it really hard to exercise inside…But, spring is coming and with it warmer weather and cherry blossoms and so is my mom and nothing else matters when she’s around. Not even my bum.

Sunny-Side Up

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Sometimes blogging is hard.. like when I tell you all to follow my blog and like my Facebook page and follow my Instagram and share all of my posts and you don’t. Other times, it’s the most rewarding thing of all. For one, it has introduced me to a variety of people, people I would’ve otherwise never known. One of these, is kind and thoughtful, funny and creative, Randy. Now, I don’t know much about Randy, other than SHE (first I thought she was a HE) has been sweet enough to comment on my posts and not just any old words but loving expressions of encouragement and support. AND, Randy wrote a poem for me! Can you believe that? Someone I’ve never met wrote a POEM for me! I love you Randy! Thank you for making me smile again and again and I hope to  meet you someday! Where do you live? Israel?

If I were an egg,

I might be hard-boiled or scrambled.

But, you, my dear

Are always sunny-side up!

With softness of mantle.

———————————————————–

For Anisa Kazemi.

I love this girl; You will, too. See why, at:

http://iaccidentlyatethewholething.com

 

Papa

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I used to ask my father to fetch me everything
DAD!
Can you pass me the remote?
Turn up the TV?
Bring me my phone?
And more often he’d comply
But sometimes, not
Get it yourself!
Don’t be so lazy
and once in a while:
NO WAY!
But I had a secret weapon
One that worked always
on every occasion
without exception:
MUM!
And SHE’d make him do it.

The worst thing about living alone
believe it or not
isn’t waking to silence
or returning home to it
no
it is being unable to open a jar
finding a cockroach in the bathtub
burning a fuse
and worst of all
tucking up, warm and nice…
then realising
your cup of tea is too far
to fetch
without papa.

And if I were salt, you’d be lettuce, an avocado or at least a fried egg

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I’d like to be a nest if you were a little bird.
I’d like to be a scarf if you were a neck and were cold.

If you were music, I’d be an ear.
If you were water, I’d be a glass.
If you were light, I’d be an eye.
If you were a foot, I’d be a sock.

If you were the sea, I’d be a beach.
And if you were still the sea, I’d be a fish, and I’d swim in you.
And if you were the sea, I’d be salt.
And if I were salt, you’d be lettuce, an avocado or at least a fried egg.
And if you were a fried egg, I’d be a piece of bread.
And if I were a piece of bread, you’d be butter or jam.
If you were jam, I’d be the peach in the jam.
If I were a peach, you’d be a tree.
And if you were a tree, I’d be your sap…

And I’d course through your arms like blood.
And if I were blood, I’d live in your heart.

-A poem from ‘Gloria’ (2013)