Some will call you names
Let them call you what they want
It doesn’t make them right to shame
It doesn’t make them strong to taunt.
It just makes them bigger fools,
And for that we all grieve.
That they don’t play by the rules
That they profess to believe

Some days bring us rain
Other days will brightly shine.
Sometimes the cookies burn
And others will come out fine.

We all know people who cry
If other people get more than they
Who find fault with almost anything
Some other people have to say.
It seems to be a lifelong thing
Said by overgrown adolescents
Crying because someone else got
What they wanted as a present,

If we never learn to count the ways
That we have had good fortune
How can anyone ever clearly tell
The butterfly from the cocoon?
How can we not look at the moon
And then enjoy a starry night
If we spend our time in tears
That somebody else isn’t right?

Some days bring us rain
Other days will brightly shine.
Sometimes the cookies burn
And others will come out fine.

We're all good at something
For God's sake
Stop thinking you're not creative
Stop thinking you have
nothing to offer this world
You can't sit there watching TV
Wondering why your life is so dull
Get off your *** and try things
Sew something
Keep a journal
Make spaghetti
There are a million and one
forms of art
And I assure you
You will find something that
sparks a fire
It will come naturally
and all at once
You'll know exactly
Why you were born
into this world
And what you're going
to make of your time here
You...
My friend
Have a purpose

Calling for love
To let you know
I love you
Between the horizon and the stars
When i am ready for love
Everyday.

The love of hearts
Shining like an diamond
To remind us of pure love
We learn each day
For calling love.

The call of love
Is the triumphant
Telling us that it is
Calling for love
But always lovely.

Love is Pure
Pure is Love
Calling is Love
Love is Calling
So let us be calling for love.

                 By K-mari ©2016

Listen, girls, it's time to stop stalling,
Can you hear? It's chocolate calling,
It's midnight, not even morning,
Listen it's chocolate calling,
Creep through the house,
Quiet as a mouse,
You've bought a box for your mother,
Well, you can buy her another,
Shhhh, don't tell anyone,
Unwrap chocolate number one,
Eat me, please!
So what for fat hips and knees,
Do you hear?Time to stop stalling,
Listen girls, it's chocolate calling.....

052816

Career is calling me,
Ringing for several times.
My thumping heart says,
"These're your dreams, why not give it a try?"
Lingering deep down on my marrows,
An illusion of deception,
An escape to higher dimension.

Yes, I want to be who I wanna be,
But when not in Christ, it'd be a shattered me.

Calling isn't ringing at all,
But he's bumping down my inner soul.
He's not my type but there's something in him.
That waiting becomes a rest that's a prerequisite.
I'd required so much for myself;
At times, rest becomes a chapter to close
I'd to wipe every single misfortunes of old
I'd rather face this moment of yes to His call.

Praying to God led me to found the key,
The gist to a rebel who's vault is in an alley.
Dreams of old, faults of such degree
Of burnt, unwrapped -- an ambushed stealing of me.

"What have you done?"
One voice tamed the thousands,
Bring halt the aphonic mimics of who's legit.
Found myself showered w/ crystal-clear tears.

Awaken, tattooed the psyche of self;
Trashes became a view, floating with the unrest ocean.
I hear no breeze nor its whispering fears,
But fear itself, a coated-candy of trampled gears.

There in the belly of the city
Way down there where it's dark and gritty
Lives a very complexe man
There in his Window he stands
Watching the atrocities that parade down his street
He's seen the dealer's and the junkies meet
The homeless that set at their feet
The thugs that prey on the weak
Children abused that turn them meek
It plays out every day of the week

He's seen it all
He's watched humanity fall
It's hard for him to digest
On this life's problems his mind rest
He knows there's not much that he can do
He watches and writes it all down, he's one of the few
Sent to bear witness to the inhumanity of man
To make us think of where in this life we stand

Yes he is a poet
His watched it all and wrote it
He has a big heart
Which makes it hard to play his part
Of watcher in the tower
As those below cower
But his calling he is sure of
To watch the dying of love
To watch the darkness closing in
To watch all of man's sin
To sound the alarm
Of humanity going wrong

He stands at his Window and cries out
But no one pays attention to his shouts
So he soaks the page with ink and tears
Hoping that at last somebody hears

Sorry, I have to go.

                                             - Why?

It's calling me.

                                             - Who?

Life.