I love the month of February because I was born on the sixteenth. February- the love month – giving and loving and sharing and forgiving; well, that’s what they say. The sweet repetition of the conjunction ‘and’ makes everything add up in the love month. Over the years, I wrote many short pieces about love: […]
Turning Pain into Gain
Source: Mathematics of Pain
What was I thinking coming to live in this four seasons country which I have grown to love over the course of time. Canada has been my home for almost 24 years. I left a tropical island with only two seasons-sunny and rainy- for greater opportunities in icy freezing winter. (Not even Canadians born here have gotten use to the cold). We all have to bear its chilling … (What word or phase do you think should go here?) I was thinking of -its chilling tentacles with shape spikes!
I do not like shoveling snow. I do not like waiting for public transit when it is snowing or it has snowed. I hate walking in unplowed streets where the snow is almost my height -about 5 feet; and to make it worst, the city have a way of blocking you in with snow, especially if you live on a side street leading into a main street. And do not talk about the wind; sometimes I do not know which is worst-the snow drifting in the blustering wind; or, that sneaky cold breeze that stings when you least expect it.
I do not like the wind trying to find a way to sneak under my many layers of clothing, making me feel under-dressed. My friend told me years ago when I first came to Canada, that you cannot get rid of the cold no matter how much you’re padded or bundled up; also, there is no fashion when it comes to winter. She said that it is okay to have two hats on your head, four extra layers of clothing on, and better to stay warm than to be fashionable. Well, I will argue the latter with her, there is some fashion in winter.
On a positive note, I refuse the cold to keep me indoors. Too much ‘indoors’ will send me insane. O yes, I have itchy feet, I must walk; just have to go outside. The cold cannot keep me in, even on days when all I see is the vapor coming out of the mouths or nostrils of people; or, I get that nod from the neighbors with eyes peering through ninja style hats or scarves- we feel you too. Me, I’m covered up too, the only parts of me that I might leave exposed are my fingers for snapping photos, to answer or make a call, or text messaging. When it’s biting cold I try my best to stay covered up from head to toe.
Warm Glow of Lights is a poem or thought on lines according to Catherine Cookson, that I wrote to a beat in my head; I sang and chanted it while walking to get my daughter from the babysitter. The evening was just perfect, cold and crisp– warm lights were striking across the sky; some having the appearance of angels. I raised my voice to my contentment as my deepest thoughts and prayers were with all the poor souls who were making their way out of the bitter cold.
Today my sentiment remains the same. The cold weather forces me to think of the homeless and the underprivileged in my community. While I might not like winter, I will be dressing very warm to extend my help for a worthy cause.
PLEASE READ, SING, CHANT OR RAP OUT LOAD!
Warm Glow of Lights
Glow night snow
glow lights over the hearts
warming in shelters
beaming over all who are
fortunate to be
tucked away from the tentacles
of winter: snow sprawls all over,
nipping at everything; as clouds linger in an
overcast of freezing
wind chills that you wish not even your enemies
should be in this shivering bitter cold.
My prayer is that no person be found outside,
with hardly any vital signs; or no fire to cover the coldest
curdled hard to fight against winter’s elements
where the outside lights will not keep you warm
tears are useless in the cold, it freezes up
so on this biting, frosty night
it will be warmer with others; to share a fireplace, a kitchen, a bed
I beseech you find cover that will shield you
against the coldest needles which can pierce
even the warmest of spirits…
(c) 2015 jjf
When your soul pains in despair
Lay your head gently to rest upon the Savior’s breast
When tiredness grip your loins
Rest assured that His love will carry you on
God will never give up on you
No matter how far you run
He will carry you in His bosom
Lift you when you fall
He’ll embalm your knees, wipe your tears
And let His glory shine on your countenance
Remain assured as you rest your life
In the Master’s hands; He will guide you on.
Jjf @ 2016
I first published this unusual one word poem in 2001 on Poetry.com. It was a time when the word terrorism was really permeating the media, and even if it seems quiet now, a soul is being terrorized each day.
By jjf (c) 2016
What is your pain? Do not refrain from trusting that your pain can truly be used to help others. Share your pain in whatever creative way God have allowed you too. People need just one tangible or intangible touch. #SharingisCaring
Mathematics of Pain
Pain + pain=gain
Without any subtraction
I will have a mold so high
In which all my dreams could die
I simply cannot attempt to multiply
’cause the pain may seem greater than the sand of the seas
That would lead me to insanity…
On either side there is more to contain
So before you ask me to bracket the most relevant pain–
The one that shut my eyes; open my belly to the ground
Prepare a rectangular casket for all my bitter laments
Buckets to collect my tears;
No more shutting of the eyes
No more folding of the arms and walking away
Searching for a better day
Here is my pain; here is my gain.
By jjf (c) 2016
Reference for Image n.d.photograph, viewed June 8, 2016,<https://i.yting.com./vi/H6ECC5B3n-0/hqdefault.jpg>
My Lost Soul
I keep giving me away piece by piece
I can’t find real love
My soul knows best
But I just can’t rest
I keep giving me away piece by piece.
I am taking back my pieces
I am waiting for my real Love,
to take me as one whole.
Has anyone seen my soul?
My soul have been shattered
The last place I remember leaving it was at the corner of-
‘Longing for Love’
I have searched the faces of strangers
Is my soul with you, Mr. Abuser?
Maybe you, Miss Cheater?
Can someone, anyone, help me find my soul
I will take the jagged pieces back-maybe I can mend it together again
Screaming: My soul I call you forth
From the east, the west, the south, and the north!
Release my soul, please give it back, it doesn’t belong to you
Stop coveting it with your insatiable passions
So I asked again, “Have you seen my soul?”
Are you speaking well?
Did you come to give me a new soul?
How can this be?
jjf (c) 2016