A Painful Monotony

Don't you know they're all the same?
Every bouquet is picked from the same field
Every lily and every tulip and every forget-me-not
Has been forgotten by someone
Because the flowers, they're all the same
All lips possess that fleeting sweet taste
That's erased by your afternoon tea
The same tongue that we all possess
Can be used as a spear or as a lullaby
The tongue can say things to make us cry
Yet all lips and all tongues taste the same
Isn't it true, that all hands are the same?
Warm, with blood rushing through them
Matching perfectly with my hand
Yet all hands fit together like jigsaw pieces
All the hands in the world tied together by a string
The hands, they are all the same
What is different? The soul?
The sparkle in the eye that reminds us
That our inner demons and angels lie not
In our capacity to love, or to kiss or caress
The only difference between us is
One person possesses his self-worth in his soul
While the other values himself
By assessing how much damage his hands can do

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Happiness is Pink Jellybeans

Happiness is jumping in a pool of pink jellybeans Feeling the cool candy on my skin Happiness is enjoying the pleasures of life Without worrying about confessing my sins Whoever said that we are gluttons For biting juicy pears on the beach Must never have felt the sand in their toes They must have placed their own soul out of reach And what about greed? It's not all that bad To bury a pile of chestnuts for the spring All animals do it, so why shouldn't we? If it's greedy to love yourself, let it be Lust is the one that makes pastors blush Yet it's one of the greatest joys in the body A kiss and a dance, laughter and romance Why did we ever label this happiness as naughty? Have you ever seen a cat sad when it naps? It is okay to sometimes be lazy The body needs rest as does the mind Or the world will set fire from the crazy If happiness is a sin, then let me smile in hell Looking up at the do-gooders above For to live is to err, to cry, and to sing Happiness is pink jell...

Humble

Remember the days we feared the gods? Neither do I, or maybe we just forgot I think we need a little superstition To quell our aching ambition We need to honour the moon and sun Just as the cavemen had done To find awe in the things all 'round Before we jumped in tech and drowned If we were to hunt our next meal We'd starve collectively, I feel Because we're even too cowardly to look In the beast's eyes whose lives we took It's simply sliced and put on display In a supermarket on the way Yes, we need to get back to our roots Take off our socks and high heel boots It's okay to feel a little scared It is how our ancestors fared Life shouldn't be riding on a cloud Idle hands make the devil proud So when you dwell into the woods Don't forget that the gods are not all good They teach us lessons as we preen Gluing our eyes to our phone screen If you're famous and if you're clever Doesn't mean you'll live forever We may be great, but there's...

Lost in Rio

Jesus looks over The lost souls and bones below In the jungle sun To witness such beauty And such devastation God painted with one brushstroke Merry men sing Holes in their shoes The dark night lit up By police sirens And the crescent moon Bats flail around Like me, lost in the jungle Eyes glaring all around I hope they're monkeys Or jaguars I hope I can keep a piece of This country with me Safe in my pocket It smells like tropical rain And feels like The clam shells Washed up on the shore It tastes like fried bananas And heavily salted steak Sounds like seabirds cawing Samba on the streets And looks like a page From a storybook About parrots and palm trees Of finding a golden treasure A magnificent, uneasy place When she sun goes down So do we Leaving the night To the creepy crawlers And innocent stray cats

Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

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