By Keitu Reid Dear God. It must be nice being you. Seeing our earthy stars. While you still have a galaxy we cannot fathom. To have our health at your mercy. To give us children that you can take away. Lovers and parents that you can take away when you need company….. while we are
Category Archives: Poetry | Prose
by Alexander Georghiades As I sit here now and begin to contemplate, it begins to really settle in that it’s already the middle of the year. Winter has come and nestled itself firmly, the autumn leaves and the beautiful spectrum of red, yellow and gold have faded and given way to the cold but gentle
by Keitu Reid I know it seems impossible sometimes; but child…….. Hold on tight to your dreams; keep those who say you can’t at bay. Child, you are restless to live a better life; go on, don’t delay. Cradle your soul, be careful that the things of this world don’t make it to decay. Child,
by Keitu Reid We need those who look to the future. Those who are individuals because they are who they say they are. Nobody lies. And everybody still cries. But just a lot, lot less. If people take ownership of their self-rule. Conceivably, I don’t know. But I suppose we would plan more efficiently.
By Keitu Reid There once was a girl, adored by many men. They would say. ‘I wish you were my wife. ‘ ‘You are so beautiful. ‘ ‘I’m in love with you. ‘ ‘You are so smart. ‘ ‘I want to know you’ Although she was flattered she wasn’t moved. Because she wished only one would say
by Keitu Reid How I wish we would all start building tomorrow. For our state today is too grim. And if nothing ever changes. Then what would tomorrow look like? Would we have the same condition? Too many of us are hungry. Food, this time, is not a consideration. I was thinking of recognition.
by Keitu Reid Sometimes love barges in unwelcomed. It doesn’t arrive appropriately dressed with a bottle of wine like a considerate guest. Sometimes love can be so thoughtless. It carries on senselessly irrespective how much you asks that it minds its manners. It was not taught the skill of orderliness. It does not care for
by Keitu Reid The heavens grumble. High tide. Oceans are grim and grey. Waves rise up with horrific power. Crushing what I toiled for. Drowning my sacred treasures. Remains lie scattered, leaving residues of memories and broken pieces of joy. Next. The sun breaks through. Low tide. Blue skies beckon aspiring swallows. And the rough