If only I were capable of managing time.

A poem written out of a conversation between the Christmas Cookie and I.

"Why must sleep and work be so mutually exclusive,
For me?"
"Well, if only you could manage time,
They wouldn't be!"
"If I were to manage time, ha!
I could rid the world of cancer.
Then I would be rich and famous,
Live a life fulfilled and joyous.
Know all the right men and women,
Even my beloved, Hugh Jackman!
And with Hiddelston, the Tom,
Get the Cookie on!
Oh what a life would be mine,
If only I were able to manage time!"

~Sam

I wish I was a bit of bubblewrap.

I wish I was a bit of bubble wrap.
Protecting things precious,
But more desired than them all.
Light and soft and easy to bear,
But with aeons of joy in each bubble of air.
Evincing a child's focused delight in all,
Calming and soothing and easing all cares.
Never quite over, no matter how much you tear.
Always, always with a bit of love to spare.

~Sam writing like the five year old she is at heart

Do you remember?

A story-poem-thing.


Do you remember?
The times before you knew to lie.
To keep your mouth smiling shut, your head down.
Before the sounds of screaming and fighting,
Became such a part of your life.

Do you remember?
Being shaken in the middle of the night.
Your brother couldn't witness it alone.
Your mother with a lit match to her clothes,
Your father laughing on the bed in front.

Do you remember?
"Mum!" Reaching out to save her.
The horror dawning in her contorted face,
As she realized what she would have left behind,
Whom she would have left them with.

Do you remember?
The years passing by,
With uneasy smiles and risky lives.
Abandonment and anger,
Misery and regret.

Do you remember?
His hand exploding across your face,
His eyes fastened on yours,
The fear clenching your guts,
His clap thundering around the room.

Do you remember?
Your mother and brother rushing in,
(enough was enough),
The relief in your blood,
The rage rushing through your veins,
While your mouth remained paper dry.

Do you remember?
The screams screaming what you never knew.
The blur of rushing away,
The burn of seeing him again.
The haze of  packing and leaving.

Do you remember?
The post-traumatic peace.
The feeling of love,
And the remnants of hate.
Fear and comfort, rage and relief, smiles and sorrow.

Do you remember?
Floating in a new life,
Lost and unsure,
Safe and unsafe,
Until that decision was made.

That enough, was enough.

~Sam

Today's post is this article written by somebody else.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/having-nothing-to-say/

~Sam

Opinions

Not one of my better pieces, but it's been a while since I posted, so here you go.

Opinions matter. Opinions reflect perspectives, and perspectives matter immensely. It’s easy to say that someone has the wrong opinion-that wanting to kill a lot of people for a cause is the wrong opinion, since you don’t think that is a valid cause, or you don’t believe violence achieves anything-but that judgment is still an opinion. And to the other person, their opinion is still valid.

It's opinions which shape the world. People don’t decide based on an ‘objective’ understanding of the situation and the most rational solution. (What is objectivity, what is rationality?) They choose their understanding and their solution, whether they understand that or not. Terrorists don’t believe they’re doing wrong (I would assume)-they are simply trying to fix what they perceive as a problem in what they perceive is the most effective way. The same way freedom fighters do, or the goverment, or the police.

So when you raise someone with an opinion-think about what you’re unleashing into the world.

~Sam