Teenage

There is no definition for paradise
no rights and wrongs
and no boundaries that are restricting you
For some it might be a peaceful life on the beach
with a fresh summer breeze and the sound of the waves
as it places your mind in a feeling of happiness
For others it might be a 9-5 job, with consistency
and an evening filled with stories from your kids’ days
and bonding in family dinners
And I could go on and on with examples of paradise but
in reality there is no rubric or instruction guide
In reality, you decide what paradise looks like to you
which brings up the questions –
What do I want? What is paradise? But most importantly
What is paradise for ME?
And to figure that out, well
to figure that out, you need time and patience
but also curiosity
to figure what’s truly out there
and then for some there may never be an end
they can continue to go and go
and it might just feel like
Am I getting anywhere?
Do I even have a purpose?
And that’s the key
finding your purpose
and finding your true value
But, who am I to tell you
what you must do
or what is required
because there is no rule book
there is no step by step manual
Paradise is an idea of never ending creativity
that can be as easy as making a sandwich
or as hard as climbing a tree
Then again, for some climbing a tree is easy
and for others making a sandwich is hard
and that’s why there are no limits
and there is no
‘I have to do this’
or
‘I can’t do this’
because really you have the power to decide
what your paradise is.

I am not your enemy.
I am not your rival.
I am not your servant either.
I am your king.
I am your king who leads you to where
you should be and should not be looked down upon.
I will listen to you.
I will care for you.
But I will not bow down to you.
I am the reason why people like Alexander the Great
and Mahatma Gandhi existed.
Ever wonder how a bird learned to fly? Or heck
even how a cheetah learned to run like The Flash?
Yeah… That was me… your King.
Ever wonder why rappers can speak so fast
and why sloths are so slow?
Yeah… That was me… your King.
You don’t have to say thank you.
You don’t have to love me.
But wait. Who created the idea of love?
Yeah don’t worry… That was me… your King.
You probably still don’t believe me.
How about you go look it up on
what is called… Google.
Ever wonder why it’s called Google?
Ever wonder where the internet came from?
Yeah… That was me… your King.
My sister Hera even witnessed me
throwing darts of lightning rods on a daily basis.
And you’re going to tell me I am not your king?
I guess there can only be one knowledgeable
person in this world.
Yeah… That’s me…
Your King.

I was left all alone, scared and stranded on an unknown island
I had lost it all
No home, no family, nothing
I was forever forgotten and my days were being counted
I laid there helplessly as I screamed in sorrow to strangers
Have you seen this girl? Do you know where she is?
Each day passed, and I woke up with hope and belief
Smiling with color and laughter on the outside, trying to stay warm
Everything is okay
But inside, my strings were crumbling, falling apart
As my holes were now my identity—lost and cold
Nothing is okay
Even the sun was lost in its journey and all that rose were dark, misty clouds
That acted as a mirror reminding me where I now belong
I used to be everyone’s favorite, I used to be her favorite
But now, I was old and broken, just lying with the slightest bit of hope
Maybe she will come back, maybe she still cares
Every person walked by, disgusted and tired of my presence, as they closed their eyes
In order to protect themselves from the worst thing alive: me
But I am still here
I have a purpose, I have value, She will come back
and indeed, she did come back
I had waited and waited, and I was continuing to fall apart
But I had convinced myself, I will stay strong for her, I will stay strong for us
She greeted me with gratitude and kindness as she ignored my holes and downsides
And loved me for my strength and patience
I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t stranded anymore.
I was home and safe with her
Safe with us

They have so much to talk about, yet nothing to say
Words scented and scrubbed, yet with deception they decay
Words brewed in false civility, aged with belief to lead one astray
When, all knowledge about the world is just a screen away
The poisonous wine hides itself in a mob-led buffet

In this world of written worded, wordy words
Core messages are lost when draped in fancy, silky-soft, ethereal robes
Shying away from that piece of vital information one should’ve known
So be warned, fellow citizen of the internet, when you traverse these lands
For the words of people on here mightn’t be overtly malicious
But cruelty comes through ignorance and indifference
Much more often than of direct intent

Voice that echoed throughout the ghastly meadow
Expelled the thoughts of the selcouth mind of the wanderer
Racing with the pounding heart in his chest
Seized his steps to head towards the bewildering reiteration.
Examining the voice of the unknown,
Into the dark tunnel of the steep shallow trail of the meadow
The trees as if let out a shriek.
Dark, murky alley that absorbed him towards the chasm as endless as the sky
Occupied him with diverse cogitations
When all at once he abruptly halted
Never really he heard a voice ever again.

my friendship feels flimsy
held together by easily breakable string
friendship without conflict, it doesn’t feel real
so, the strings – they sting, they sting
we never have real discussions
only small talk about frivolous things
which feel meaningless in this world
of individuality, to which we cling
general conversations, we avoid our problems like a plague
makes me wonder what this friendship even brings
we don’t talk about how her face darkens
when she gazes at my fingers, my sweetheart’s ring
we don’t talk about my clenched fists
songs of lies and smiles and manipulation we sing

we never talk

yet, despite this, I like her, really, I do
I laugh at her deadpan humor
even if we’ve never had a real conversation to date,
I like her, really, I wish to be her friend
but our string is flimsy and straining
and I worry, one day we will stop our texts
and years and years will pass
bringing an inevitable end to a not-really friend…

Spectacular Dianne!
She loves to work in the library!
She’s very punctual,
About overdue books,
She’s kind,
And very helpful,
She’s there when you’re
Confused what book to get!
She loves it when people,
Helps her stack books!
She has a very loud voice,
You should feel ashamed!
She doesn’t take No for an answer!
So beware!

Berry loves to swim!
Berry loves to compromise,
She’s excellent,
She helps people swim,
She’s very fit,
And loves to walk!
She likes dressing up,
And doing PE!
She’s very cautious,
Wherever she goes,
She doesn’t like trouble,
She likes doing pranks,
And cracking people up,
She loves to go out,
For a few happy drinks,
With her friends and family!
Hip hip hooray!

Feisty Mrs Kelly!
What a woman she is!
She helps everyone,
Helps those who are in need,
She’s strict!
But very kind too!
She feels good for the people,
And she knows how to use Makaton
sign language too!
She loves unicorns,
And high heels too!
She is a funny person,
And she’s very comfortable
And works very hard too.
She socialises with everyone.
She’s very multi-tasked,
She goes wherever you tell her to go,
She is a very courageous woman!
She is very humble,
And never causes trouble!
She is a inspiration for everyone,
At our school!
Well done Mrs Kelly!

Time ticks so slowly when I watch it
but it sprints like a rabid hare if you look away
Minutes race away, then hours, then days
then I can stare eye to eye with my parents;
those who’d just been unreachable
with each inch I gain, with each word I learn
I feel the unyielding worms of adulthood creeping up on me
slowly; but not slowly enough
Responsibilities breath down my neck
their stench enveloping my patience and my time
Sometimes, it’s hard to breath
for all air around stinks of burdens

Sometimes, I fiddle with my pens, my pencils, my papers
pleading, begging the clock to go faster
it never does, when I ask it to grow older
it sets a snail-like pace; keeping what I assume is freedom
gently out of my reach

Sometimes if the ideal freedom I crave is a simple illusion
I might be free of my current prison, disguised as a school
I may be free of my jailers, disguised as teachers
but won’t I go to another, much larger cage?
disguised as office walls and bosses

Sometimes I’m scared; Terrified
sometimes I feel as if I’m unready for the reality I will be thrust into
a reality which seems so far away, so unreachable
yet a reality which I’m sure will come in the blink of an eye