Rhyme and Reason – By @GCopywrite

By Gigi Rice

Rhyme and Reason

My Dearest Readers, I have just managed to complete my SCA homework for Christmas. Whoppee. However, a rather dangerous thing has occurred. I managed to make 9 poster campaigns in 20 hours. And without compromising any sleep. I know this should definitely not become a habit but I’m sat here feeling rather triumphant that I’ve managed to bash that out that fast. And I think they’re of a relatively good quality. They’re all coloured in with sharpies that I got from Santa. Thanks big guy. Anyway, today at the start of a new year I wanted to share several poems that have influenced me recently. Please read, watch and feel inspired to take down whatever lies before you. Urban Girl Writes Another Poem About Her Dead FatherBY SIAARA FREEMANMy father is deadI notice it mostDuring things that haven't happenedyetMy father is deadat my weddingHe is a slow dance if bulletsan autopsy tryingto make polite conversation with the guestsMy flower girl is me at every ageHe did not see me turnI'm throwing things I haven't seen in years(My virginity, pig-tails, my diploma, joy and names of old lovers).My father is deadat the birth of my first childThe doctor askswhere is the father?I say murderedout of habit.The doctor does not specify so neither do Iinstead we both stareat my child who is named after the chill in the room.My father is deadat my death bed. We playBlackjack until the light comes.When it does. He lifts me on his shoulder on to his shouldersI get the piggy back ride promised to a childwho time has been waiting onNext up, one of my all time favourite- One Last Poem for Richardby Sandra CisnerosDecember 24th and we’re through again.This time for good I know because I didn’tthrow you out — and anyway we waved.No shoes. No angry doors.We folded clothes and wentour separate ways.You left behind that flannel shirtof yours I liked but remembered to takeyour toothbrush. Where are you tonight?Richard, it’s Christmas Eve againand old ghosts come back home.I’m sitting by the Christmas treewondering where did we go wrong.Okay, we didn’t work, and allmemories to tell you the truth aren’t good.But sometimes there were good times.Love was good. I loved your crooked sleepbeside me and never dreamed afraid.There should be stars for great warslike ours. There ought to be awardsand plenty of champagne for the survivors.After all the years of degradations,the several holidays of failure,there should be somethingto commemorate the pain.Someday we’ll forget that great Brazil disaster.Till then, Richard, I wish you well.I wish you love affairs and plenty of hot water,and women kinder than I treated you.I forget the reason, but I loved you once,remember?Maybe in this season, drunkand sentimental, I’m willing to admita part of me, crazed and kamikaze,ripe for anarchy, loves still.One for the fresh start of January and mental health- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xUEg2WxGqQAnd a final one for all the bad bitches out there. Keep on keeping on-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJ8W522jPyk