Loved; Lost; Scared.

Loads of fabrication made up what they had…
...She loved him dearly; he just lust after her body,
He made her very merry and joyous
With the lies and future he painted perfect.
Some certain things happen to young ladies; only young ladies, I swear.
The rosy tales those guys tell; distorting the truth to get a piece of the pie…
…Just to get a piece of the pie?
She had large bosomy and pleasing curves… She was as thick as a brick
This was so evident to his eyes.


Exploring all her body with great enthusiasm was all he craved
Her misguided quest for true love led her to blindly give her heart
At an innocent age of sixteen;
He told more lies than the mainstream media, kissed her lips and touched her there,
Made her very soppy and wet; both got busier than two cats on a hot tin roof
When the did was done, he abruptly ended it with her.
Leaving her heartbroken, now she is soaking… Crying like a refugee.
Her heart was left in a decadent state… Can she soar and rise past this?
Both slept in the same bed; but had different dreams
Four letter words brought her to her knees

Why do most girls go through this?
She will never walk barefooted;
Down to the fact that no one can ever walk in her shoes,
She opened up her heart like a drawer of knives,
He savored her and pushed her aside like outdated shoes…
Left her too petrified to love again;
This is what you need to know;
That everyone we meet has loved something, lost something,
And is scared of something.



Copyright 2009. Ivy poems

Death the leveler

When a loved one dies, we sit back
And wonder and ponder their life as ours
The creator might seem to have broken our hearts,
But we must remember that he only takes the best
Every minute, every hour and every day
We exempt the topic and thoughts of inevitable death,


When was the last time you discussed death?
Where we go afterwards is uncertain and relatively down to faith/ beliefs
The truth hurts and it is stranger than fiction
So we tend to play oblivious to the tread of death
We fear to poke on the thoughts of death and afterlife, because it’s mentally draining.
Everybody dies, that’s just the way it is, and it’s the circle of life


It makes everyone leveled, the rich, the poor, black and white
It shall not spare anyone, no, not even me
We should live life to the fullest, we should be everything we want to be while there’s still time.
But death still somewhat depends on life; solely on life
Because without life, death can’t take place, perhaps making it a slave to life
But death shall die as well, do not be scared of the leveler


We shall overcome death through faith in the creator’s son
He had already won the victory over death
We need not worry, we need nothing but faith
There is nobody as blind as folks that will not see that
In the midst of life there is death, it lurks around the corner
Unobserved, unexpected waiting to ambush


Death is the bridge and intersection of life and afterlife
It’s the cloud on the horizon, because we all die someday,
It’s a dilemma that can’t be denied its occurrence,
As for now we just don’t want to think of it.
Death you are a leveler, the ultimate leveler

I ESCAPED

I heard a cock crow
For the first time in a decade;
I forgot my agonies and sorrows
I drifted away in the Jacuzzi, I escaped

Nothing antagonizing crossed my mind that weekend
Whilst in the pool I dared to swim like a shark for a minute
I knew I would not drown at the deep end
I shouted, yes I can swim; I did it

The shire was serene and soothing
Just what we needed, I escaped debtors and drama
But it was short lived
I escaped

For 72 hours I was jolly and I was as happy as a clam
The air was purified no pollution no congestion
I escaped for a little while
But I knew Life's not all beer and skittles

After the cock crow awoke me,
I went to the morning room and captured all the morning sun
Overlooking the enclosed rear garden and the lake beyond
I was as happy as Larry

But the next morning I had to head home
Home is where the heart is and where the problem lies
Home is quite boring; it remains the same as it was left
But my home is my castle, so I returned after my escape.

She was filthy cute, as fine as fine can be

She was filthy cute, as fine as fine can be

She said she wasn’t the same without me

Just as crops ain’t the same without rain

Our love ain’t the same without some pain

Just like Russian roulette ain’t the same without a single round in the gun

Together we had known incredible times and fun, fun, fun

She was as sweet as a nut, and as hot as a rattling bone,

Couldn’t wait to introduce her to mum and take her home

I hoped our love survived like the plane crash in the Hudson River,

I made love to her till her legs shook and shiver

At half past two in the early morning, when the stars were gleaming

And the neighbours were snoring and dreaming

We were making a beast with two backs, the details I shall leave to your imagery

Despite the cold outside we made the room steam hot, as hot as a bakery.

Two years later, just before I had wanted to propose to her

To show how much I care and love her

She fell really ill and kicked the bucket; time stood still and my whole life halted,

Life’s worst disaster was imminent, my heart melted

In the midst of life there is death, a good beginning makes a good ending

But not this time around, my tragedy was transcending

A tree just isn’t the same without its leave

Without my other half I almost couldn’t breathe

But it’s all part of the creators plan, so I took heart.

The whole world is a stage; we all have a part to play, I wish I wasn’t cast for this part

She was filthy cute, as fine as fine can be

We were like cupid and psyche in ancient Greek mythology

Cupid had pricked me with his arrow, because I had become consumed with desire for her

I loved her in life; I must still love her in death, as she lives on in the heart she left behind.

We were so cool together; cool as the breeze on the last days of April.

Mr doggy dog

Doggy dog was a few fries short of a happy meal

He had failed to plan from the very start

The young bloke preferred to sit back and

Watch the happenings and events of life hammer him into a place

That he couldn’t see.

Never did he look at things straight; he cared less of what to happen to happen

There was no green in his eye

Adamantly doggy jumped into the structured society where the education system was planned out

He got into university but that was a wild’s goose chase

As he still lacked vision and his thought process was nothing to write home about

Doggy Dog was as dumb as stump

He had failed in all his modules yet again

He felt tricked by the future he picked

and cheated by the fate that came his way

Little did he know that it’s how he handles failure that made the difference in one’s life.

But he always wanted to play it safe. He took no risks and hence no rewards

Failure buried him and never inspired him

Someone should had told him that

Our lives are a reflection of habits more than an education

He was a rolling stone that never gathered any moss

His tragedy was having no goals to reach

A man without a dream should die in his sleep for he is useless and hopeless.

A decade later doggy still had his writing on the wall

Failing to plan was planning to fail;

I guess now he knows that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

DREAM

The dream I had last night, I forget this morning,

Trying really hard to recall that dream, but to no avail

I had two dreams I don’t know the difference

Just like I don’t the difference between a ‘road’ and a ‘street’

I give up after some time; I look forward to my next dream

It’s all subconscious; my mood and previous thoughts regulate my dream

I have no input in the content of my dream; I do not know what’s coming,

Just like I don't know what comes after once, twice, thrice

Or do you know?

I waited two nights for another dream.

I forget the details of my dream yet again, I can’t quite recall my dream, I can’t be asked to;

Just like you can’t be asked to know the feminine equivalent of brethren

I have become completely unreliable at recalling my dreams.

So when it comes to recalling a dream, I could be as slow as a snail

This is a Sonnet (14 line poem)

Ivy poem

08/03/2009