I’d just like to say Happy Birthday Dad!!
You would have been 49 today, ya oldy! I miss you so much… Not a day goes by that I dont think of you… R.I.P
“World; I bequeath to you today one little girl in a crispy dress … with shining blue eyes … And a happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of light blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs. I trust you will treat her well.
She’s slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning and skipping off down the street to her first day of school. Prim and proud , she’ll wave a young and independent hand this morning and say good bye and walk with little-lady steps to the awaiting school bus.
- Never again will she be completely mine.
Gone will be the chattering little whirlwind who lived only to play, and gone will be the delightful little sprite who roamed the yard like a proud princess with nary a care in the world.
For now she will learn to stand in lines and wait by the alphabet for her name to be called. She will tune her little girl ears for the sound of school bells and for deadlines … She will learn to giggle and gossip … And to look at the ceiling in a disinterested way when little boys stick out their tongues …. She will learn to be jealous, how it feels to be hurt inside.
- Now she must learn how not to cry.
No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch step and watch an ant scurry across a crack in a summer sidewalk. She will worry about important things like grades … What to wear … and whose best friend is whose. Now she will worry about little boys pulling her hair at recess time … staying after school … and which little girl likes which little boy … The magic of knowledge and books will soon take the place of blocks and Barbie dolls.
- She will find new heroes.
For five years I have been her sage and her Santa … her pal and her playmate … her father and her friend… Now alas she will learn to share her worship and adoration with teachers and friends.
I will no longer be the smartest, greatest man in her world.
Today she will become a member of a group … with all it’s privileges and disadvantages too. She will learn that proper young ladies don’t burp out loud, kiss dogs, keep frogs in pickle jars …or watch ants scurry across cracks in summer sidewalks. Today she will begin to learn for the first time that “the group” can be a demanding mistress …
And that all who smile at her are not her friends.
I’ll stand on the front porch watching her start her journey to becoming a young woman.
So World; I bequeath to you today one little girl in a crispy dress … with bright blue eyes … and a happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs.
I trust you’ll treat her well.”
—Peter Meyer (My daddy)
1st day of kindergarten Sept. 6, 2000
This sex, is sex, how sex, you sex, keep sex, a sex, dumb sex, ass sex, busy sex, for sex, 20 seconds. Read this again but don`t say sex. ;)
Your soul is the broth of your soup
Pasta - The people you meet
Different sizes, different shapes
A variety of textures and flavours
Each different in their own ways
Each influencing your choices,
Your life - style
But influenced themselves by the spices of your soup
Full of emotoion
Spices give your soup feelings
Hot, Angery, Sad, Glad, Lust, Paranoia
Combined with your personality
They define you
Are you loud? Sweet? Arrogant?
All different, unite as one
Each soup, different that the other
A little extra spice, a little less additions
Boy soup, Girl soup
Mom soup, Dad soup
Punk soup, Gangster soup
Each unique, but the same being
Easily turned to stew, full of personality
Cream of influence: One major trait
Or, a broth
Delicious and pure
Just for you
No pressure, no expectations
But room to add anything important
Able to change, with the right ingredients
Yet no matter
Your soul is the foundation
In the soup of life.
Deep Within the core,
Essence erupts, shattering eternity
You are mortal.
The revelation show all
Flaws form on your perfect face
Homing in your weakness
Penetrating your defense
Taking what is mine
What was mine
And what I want.
Leaving you alone, forgotten
Taken your will
And used it against you
Embrace my iron fist
New ideas, possibilities revealed,
Taking with them my rage.
Fingers slip, grip loosened, power
The tables have turned,
My vulnerability exposed
I am yours
Bend me. Break me. Move me. Abuse me.
Pick my pockets. Break my heart.
Do as you please
In your graces.
The chain once tight has now gone slack
Vulnerable to separation.
I once saw your midday presence
Shadow small, easily ignored.
Time has now passed.
Dusk shows your shadow full.
My world turns.
Your eyes I see from a new angle.
No, they glare.
You’re no angel
My universe now upside down
No more do I see smiles.
I see your unveiling,
Of your new canvas, black and white.
I feel a chaos medley of emotions engulfing,
One final glance…
And the Clouds form.
One tear to remember what was.
One to forget what is
Many never have a “What Will”
The chain is cut.