Being Me

Tags

Poem, wishes

I don’t wanna be aloof, alone,
But sometimes, that’s the best way to be
It doesn’t mean I’m all forlorn;
But sometimes I kinda miss being me

With a book or two in my hands
and with my eyes in the skies
I could spend all my days
With stories of a hundred lands

I could watch a hundred pictures
Or I could lecture on some scriptures
I could eat whatever I wanted
No fad or diet me ever haunted!

I could laugh, I could cry,
But now I can no longer fly
I see that I can no longer be
And then I miss being me…

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To my Daughter…

Tags

Poem, Poems

Scratches and kicks, and kisses and licks,

And love galore, in those adoring eyes

Some daily new words, that always suffice

To tell me you love me, My sweet little baby

“Papa!”, that call, that one little word

That seals our bond, such emotions stirred

Your daily embrace, demanding naught from me

But some love, only love, ’tis not hard to see

Kid, I wish I can be, your superman,your ideal,

And I wish you but understand, the way I now feel;

When the years pass us by, of my weary bones in the breeze

Are all that remain, with wet eyes and memories….

To my daughter…

Tags

daughter, Poem

Scratches and kicks, and kisses and licks,

And love galore, in those adoring eyes

Some daily new words, that always suffice

To tell me you love me, My sweet little baby

“Papa!”, that call, that one little word

That seals our bond, such emotions stirred

Your daily embrace, demanding naught from me

But some love, only love, ’tis not hard to see

Kid, I wish I can be, your superman,your ideal,

And I wish you but understand, the way I now feel;

When the years pass us by, my weary bones in the breeze

Are all that remain, with wet eyes and memories….

Babies On A Plane: Sit Back, Relax, and Try Not To Cry (Too Much)

Funny for Nothing

I’ve finally made it to my 50^th post. After two years of blood, sweat, tears, anxiety medication and more sweat – I live in a tropical country – it’s finally happened. This blog was my baby, and my baby is all grown up *sheds single tear while staring into the distance in a powerful, masculine way*.

On that note, lets talk about babies.

As a rule, babies aren’t too bad. A little bit overrated (come on, they’re just overgrown potatoes) and I certainly wouldn’t buy one unless I got a good discount plus a free coffee mug, but from a distance I wouldn’t feel the need to throw sharp objects at them. That’s generally a good thing, I think.

There is only one exception to this rule. There is one place where baby-hating would be fully justified and even encouraged. Yup, you got it.

That, ladies and gentlemen…

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