Poetry Compilation; Post: 9

~~~My most recent Poem(July 15th 2007), but definitely not my last~~~

Will my voice astound
Every critic on sound?
Or will I just screech off stage?

Will I leap from the page
And act on the stage?
Or will I just stay in the wings?

Will I ever be seen,
As a beauty queen?
In more than just the Lord's eyes?

But I've come to see
The focus is not on me,
And if these things come,
As they might,
God is to have the limelight.

Curious

Poetry Compilation; Post: 8

~Dontcha just love translation? (June 25 2007)

I'm lost in translation
For the thought never left the station,
My mind reels and spins
And tries to keep on top to win.

For a mind in the process of translation,
Gets stuck and muddled in the conversion.
One language to that,
And hang on, did you just say "hat"?

For I am once again lost
In the abyss of what things cost.
My brain is fried,
but it was fun, and at least I tried.

Curious

Poetry Compilation; Post: 7

~This is just a short little one I wrote on May 18th 2007, the middle-end of basketball season~

A little poem...

Time marches on
In the basketball game of life.
The seconds race by,
As we try to achieve the most we can.

Curious

Poetry Compilation; Post: 6

~This one is fairly self explanatory... (March 3rd 2007) ~

Such is my life...

Hi, I'm a missionary kid
No, please, don't run away,
Let me tell you about me?

I live in Bolivia,
No, its not in Africa.
I go to a normal strange school,
I have normal strange friends.

When a team comes,
Its almost guaranteed that shoes
Will be left on the doorstep.
Such is my life.

Bugs come in seasons,
And rain comes once a year.
We delight in the dated,
And our sense of humour is terrible.

Our teachers range from strict
To incredibly forgetful.
From just a little quirky
To the downright strange.

And they wonder why MK's turn out
Just the way we do.
They think we are predictable,
And in a way we are.

But think again.

We may be strange,
we may be weird,
But we have an understanding
Of the world around us
That others will never have.

Curious

Poetry Compilation; Post: 5

~I was inspired to write this one as a result of a devotion in home room (March 25 2007)~

An Age Old Battle

The choking dust rises
Breathed in by people of all sizes.
The master wears a hood,
Splattered and stained by blood.

There are chains and whips,
Mean taunts and quips.
The sun beats down on the withered and thin,
And the ever hungry lion wears a ghastly grin.

Poor souls toil ever on,
Brothers, friends, separated, gone.
Cries ring out above the dust,
The auction continues, as it must.

A white hooded master stumbles in,
Subjecting himself to the power of sin.
The black hooded master savours victory,
His arch-nemesis now weak and in slavery.

Black hood faces the white
His features contorted, a ghostly sight.
Death arrives to take a soul
And the white now plays his vital role.

The sky blackens and the chains break,
Freedom for slaves, our choice to make.
The greatest price paid,
A life given for our aid.

That is my simple story
Of life and death, a tale truly gory.
A victory made on that tremendous day,
Love like God's has truly come our way.

Curious

Poetry Compilation; Post: 4

~Inspiration (January 13th 2007)~

Inspiration where have you gone?
Maybe you are a prize to be won.
Or are you like the wind, dropping by
And dissapearing again without saying why?

You lead many to fame,
You leave others in shame.
Great deeds are done because of you,
But I'm stuck, now what should I do?

Inspiration, where have you gone?

Curious

Poetry Compilation; Post: 3

~Ok, here is my most "famous" poem,(January 30th 2007) it actually received an award at my school! (Plus another one which I missed initially its from December 17th 2006)~

Poetry, yours is a hidden message
Of love, life and mystery
Hidden under any sort of visage.
You speak of truth, you speak of lies,
You know exactly what this mask hides.

You seem to know everything
Whether you do or not,
You speak to my soul, you pull at my heart strings.
Poetry, you are the tool of the ages,
The billboard of the sages.

Poetry, so many great men have fallen to your spell.
You weave hope into their battle worn bodies
You speak of the maidens they know so well.
Through your melody, you hypnotise,
Through your rhythm you revitalise.

You bring women to tears,
You make their hearts soar
You protect them from the thing each one fears.
You bring joy, you bring laughter,
You show them things they'll remember ever after.

Poetry, you are the voice of feelings,
You are the song of lovers
The melody, the tune always so lilting.
You are the whisper of rage,
The release from our cage.

Poetry. Poetry.

You shall endure the sands of time.

Curious

Dogs in Church... Yet another Culture Shock Story

I'll tell you a tale
I've noted it to be true,
Of a dog, or maybe two.
He had spots on his tail, and a floppy ear,
And often went to church, just to hear.
It was not unusual you see, to sit
And find him under your chair,
Or to hear him going past during the prayer.
During dedications he would appear,
On the stage, at the stair, and wiggle his floppy ear.

Curious

Poetry Compilation; Post: 2

~Continuing, here is a little Christmas Poem (December 24, 2006)~

Its a time of cheer,
The Bestest time of the year
Now don't you fear
The world will hear,
The good news, just you wait and see
And if that takes a while, there will always be you and me :)

Friendship lasts forever.

Curious

Poetry Compilation; Post: 1

~Ok, so this is the first poem I put up on my blog Curious Happenings, on October 21, 2006. Enjoy!~

Women cry, men are shy.
Men are macho, women, not so much oh
Women are sensitive, caring and beautiful,
Men are heroic, brave, and handsome.

Women love clothes, shoes and boys
Men are fascinated by their electronic toys
Women are fashionable and really quite chic
Men are cool and to strong too be weak

Women are mothers, their place is in the home
Men are warriors, their place is to protect and to roam.
Women are not leaders, its the men's request-
For men are wise, they know best.

But the untold story is one unknown,
Of women not content to stay at home.
They long for adventure, they long for love.
Women such as these are not the norm.

There is another side too,
One that society decidedly 'boos'
Of men that cry, of men that are shy.
They desire only a quiet home and wife,
That is their kind of life.

Both sides of the mirror are true,
They are people, just like me and you.
But we are all loved, by one who understands,
One who is not held back by time and its sands.

Curious