Unscrambled Eggs - Nadia Brown (popular ebook readers .TXT) 📗

Unscrambled Eggs
ISBN 978-1-4581-8676-8 © 2011

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

Acknowledgments

I would like to acknowledge and thank my family for all their support, prayers, and encouragement. Each in their own unique way has inspired and contributed to this endeavor. Without their unconditional love, I would not be able to accomplish my dream of becoming a writer.

Introduction

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

Jeremiah 29:11         

I have always had the utmost respect and admiration for anyone who is able to accomplish something that they truly desired, no matter how significant or small it is. As simple as that may seem, for one reason or another we do not often attain the goals that we set out to achieve.

I strongly believe that everyone has a purpose, a divine destiny, and unfortunately there are many who live their entire lives without ever fulfilling their purpose. You don’t ever truly have joy if you go through life being a settler. That is something I have learned.

The poems in this book were written over a five‐year period and reflect either my own experiences, those close to me, and issues that I feel very passionately about. Unscrambled Eggs, I believe, is an honest and thought‐provoking book that deals with everyday life issues. I t is a compilation of poems about living your dream and finding purpose.

I realized that dwelling on what I thought were past disappointments would only hold my future in doubt and keep me from my purpose. And it is that belief that has inspired the title poem and poetry collection, Unscrambled Eggs.

Contents

Unscrambled Eggs

Sometimes

Blueprint

Undisturbed

Reference

Novelty

Liquid Muse

Unforeseen Affair

Farewell to Hardship

Ms. Ordinary

The Writer

Gone

Moon over Columbus

Deprived

Misguided

Only a Girl

Lifeboat

A Note from Erin

Silent Walk

Seventh Hour

Dreamchaser

Pebble

Autumn Falls Softly

Salute to Maya

Angels

Before I Knew Better

Black Souls

Broken Pot

Lifetime

June Rains

Refusal

Sea of Poor

Secrets of Humanity

The Lesson Learned

Two Poem Hands

Fathom

An Ardent Wish

Blind Eyes Become Open

Words

Benevolent

Blue Night

Encumber Sands

Joy

If You Knew

Lone Bird

Loss Civility

Perfect

There Were No Bells

Unavoidable Truth

When

A To‐Do List

Dread

Reluctant Pursuer

Fishing for Salmon

Like You

Ploys of Distraction

Wings of Purpose

Before

Suppose

What Love Is

Unscrambled Eggs

There are holes in my pockets the size of mountains

and I have no place to rest my hands

I spent more time dreaming

than living with purpose

though life is more obliging

over coffee and quiet toast

Peering through reverse mirrors

I watch as errant failures tidy their mistakes

but when will I learn

I can no more unscramble eggs

than change the past

In a place of solace

I sit on someone else’s chair

parting with habits I should have refused

trying not to feed on words

like if and only

steadily refilling holes

I once built

Sometimes

Sometimes I think I was born

in a small town

some other century

lightening years earlier

than I should have

left my mother’s womb

to come to live in a world that’s fierce

in this hot bread city

children here behave not as their age

but more like the adults they have not yet become

and who can blame them as the people here are like cats

wandering in and out of stranger’s bed

having no use for moderation

no empathy for restraint

it is a lack of temperance

the way in which their unbridle lips

hang like moons

that I truly despise

their unwillingness to quiet their hands

quell the crescendos of their anxious bodies

leads me to believe

that this contemporary way of life

despite being here

was not for me

Blueprint

Life is a peculiar play,

an amphitheater of prose.

I am mindful of my part,

of rudimentary scripts

that no one fathoms.

On this regal stage lives a story,

a defining blueprint.

Here, we are all characters portraying our elected roles,

living like the puppets we are.

Some ill prepared

for the proclivity of plots

that comes with dramatic years.

I close my stanzas knowing

there is always something

learned from fiction

that time shows its foresight

so we do not become an untimely act

and reprise the role of tragedy.

Undisturbed

We do not concern ourselves

with unremitting distractions

the weight of time

do not hinder us

these cravings

The moon with all its plans

its gravity

has been incapable

at slowing our attempts

Still we desire

what we do not have

our dreams left undisturbed

Reference

History holds my errors intact

adjusting their collars

smoothing over ragged creases

that come with counting years

so I would remember not to forget

I once read your books

recreated its texts into something I wanted

but did not need

the past has seen fit that I remember

I trusted your commas

more than I should

confused your periods for truth

and like a toddler

I am forever being scold

by purple mistakes

archived on the shelves

of my remembrance

Novelty

Tomorrow I’ll be honeycomb

supple stanzas on letters

I will account for words unsaid

not mislay undated moments

No more will I anger robins

use fingers to call you by name

or allow the sap of guile

to mottle my hands further

Even now I toss away hours like grapes

speak without a bone of concern

dine with grin while my pockets swell

as I continue being a viper

and the scoundrel that I am

Liquid Muse

Somewhere in the black hole of stanzas

point of view sleeps along the page

while paltriness musters in your lines

tell me what do your imageries speak

what good are handsome metaphors

when profoundness eludes your pen

I have no fancy rhymes

my poetry will not boast of windmill autumns

I may not have your able muse

but I at least offer more than words

Unforeseen Affair

My candor

unwittingly

induced the

bitterness

that inflames

your fury

rift from

forgiveness

resentment now

wears your ring

I laid bare

unwilling thoughts

oblivious of its

collateral damage

without warning

love demised