Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

Does anyone even keep a blog anymore? No? That's fine. I'm going to share with the world (or the endless void that is the Internet) my top 5 books that I read in 2018, just in case you're wondering what to read next: 5.  Crazy Rich Asians   (2013) by: Kevin Kwan Favourite quote:  "Just because some people actually work for their money doesn't mean they're beneath you." Reason to read this book: It's an awesome beach read, or in the winter, a cozy read by the fireplace that transports you to a crazy world. If you've already watched the movie, it's still worth it to read the book. Kwan is an incredible writer; he gets you hooked on the story from the very beginning and transports you to a world that most of us can't even fathom. It's a world where millions of dollars are spent on frivolous things, like fireworks, and it's also a shallow and sad world, where the richest of the rich judge each other based on the price of one

A few months ago, I went to get my hair cut at the local shopping mall, and the female hairdresser engaged in some small talk with me. "So do you live in Oakville with your parents?" she asked, as she washed my hair with shampoo. "No, I actually live in an apartment by myself. Well, with my two cats," I answered. "And you can afford it? As a teacher?" she asked, bewildered.  I didn't really know how to respond. I don't think a male teacher would have been asked the same question, and this really irked me. This is just one of the ways in which women are prejudiced against in our society, even in our progressive Canadian one. Entering the workforce and official "adult life" I've been shocked, in 2018, how many difficulties and biases I had to clear up and overcome just because I am 1) a young millennial and 2) a woman.  Another example: When I went to the bank today, the financial advisor asked me no less than 3 times

I dreamt about a Dalmatian named Frederick  On a Tuesday night, a week or so ago Now I can't stop thinking about his pink tongue Lolling, and his happy tail swinging side To side, and his spotted paws dancing On my carpet I want a Dalmatian named Frederick Because he reminds me of my childhood Of a dog I once knew, who climbed Many stairs to reach a loft on the top floor His snout always joyous, his energy Seeping into the floor, couches, and kitchen Of course, that Dalmatian is long gone As is the energy that he summoned With his barking and whining And chomping food from the bowl Why did I dream about a Dalmatian named Frederick? Could he be a returning ghost Of a life long forgotten? When I collected all the plastic figurines From 101 Dalmatians, back when They came with the nuggets in the Happy Meal The Dalmatian brings back an innocent time He's all I can think about This spotted dog luring me into his world For one day he will meet my children An

I admit it: I'm guilty. Guilty of being a self-proclaimed feminist. It is unfortunate that we are taught nowadays to attach shame and embarrassment to the term "feminist." When I tell people I'm a feminist, sometimes they chuckle and say, "okay, feminazi" or "I don't agree with feminism" or simply "I don't like that term." I don't think that most people truly understand what the term means, so let's take a mini crash course through history to piece it all together. "Feminism" as we know of the term today sprouted in the late 1800s to early 1900s. In North America at the time, women were not allowed to vote and were not considered as "persons" under the law, meaning they had little to no financial freedom and political influence. Female leaders joined together to fight this injustice and gained suffrage rights throughout the 1910s. This was the first wave of feminism. Later, when swarms of husbands

They say deep in the forest On every Halloween Comes alive an evil woman The worst the world has seen They say she has black eyes Nails painted burgundy Skin as pale as moonlight Hair long and feathery Drunken men lost at midnight With no place else to go Are baffled by her beauty And court the fateful beau She strikes right at the neck That’s where men are weakest They have no chance to yell Her mercy is the bleakest Who knew that such a beauty With pretty straight cut bangs Could open such an awful mouth With such remorseless fangs? The men are but her supper She rolls them in a cocoon They glisten like sad slugs Their bodies shining from the moon The black widow has claimed the lives Of more than thirty men No one has ever caught her As she hides deep in her den Sometimes she walks among us The pretty lady with the smile No one even suspects her To be a fiend so vile No one even look

My thoughts quickly spiral and tumble down Making small, hollow sounds as they scatter On the jagged rocks and litter below Spiraled like scalloped potatoes, A snail’s shell, or a smooth staircase When spiraling, take a deep breath Remind yourself everything is as it should be As it was destined to be, meant to be As it so rightfully should be Then let go of the jagged rocks that weigh You down in your pockets Crack through the snail’s shells The spirals are all in your mind Because you’re a circle, complete, whole And nothing can crush you image source: https://www.shells-of-aquarius.com/snail-shells.html

If I told you all my secrets The ones resting deep in the crevices of the things That I’d like to forget I wonder, would you still look at me the way you do? With love and innocence in your eyes You wish you could hold on to me, grow on me Like moss does on smooth rocks So that we become one, a habitat And we can’t live without each other But if I told you all my secrets Would you still want to be so entwined with me? Or would you swim far, far away To be with fish that have less baggage in the sea Picture: https://fineartamerica.com/art/paintings/fish