STRUT: THE ONE TO LIE TO

<a href="http://Strut“>

Go tell the widowed woman downtown
It’s only a long walk to her home
Wear a smile and embrase happiness
Ignore the flashes that burrow within
Live through each day and not in it
Receive the bickering strolls of passers-by
Your strength is the irony of your weakness

She will welcome you like a lost sheep
Listen to you
With imaginations of a withering plant
Then “shuu” you off like a bush fly
With mutterings: the debt of death is life
Strut or not, its faded hands still blooms

-ruthspoetry 2017

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LET THEM TALK

<a href="http://Meddle“>

Judge not!
The good book says
Yet we are so quick to crucify
Why do we bury our noses in distances?
Looking for a “good” day to hunt
Stretching the fibers of life
Hurting those who wallow in pain
Building little niches of gossip
Forming circles of unrepentant souls

If we decided to go against the normal
Do what we feel is the best for us
And in no way does it hurt anyone
How does it concern their batting lips?
But no, it seems our business is theirs
Or is it that our worlds are sisters?
More that often, our lives may look spongy
But it’s a lot better than the rags they call life
So to help their chaos, hurting others is their gain

Refuse to be affected by their talks
Or meddle with their fallacious stings
Be affected by your happiness
That way, we careless and be more of us

Ruthspoetry 2017

WOMAN

<a href="http://Tender“>

Woman
The art man can’t explain
Insuperably axienic with pure essence
The smell of a goodnight pleasure
An amiable treasure unexposed
Crowned with shades of wisdom
Man’s greatest pleasure
Transparent with a fierce spirit
With nests of tender emotions

Marvel and stare to get lost
Her hips compel your submission
Oh! The lips, total enchantment
Still her brain burns in her tasks
Here and there, she rolls in circles
Beat her drum, she’s fruitful
Forbidding extinction of our race
Now, take a bow for her
She is your QUEEN.

SMELL THE HOOD

<a href="http://Trace“>

Dump all the cold stories
Draw a line between fair and good
The London lady calls it “antique”
Just because she feels ladies are suspects

Three crowns for the hood
Reading the surest lines
Tracing the bonds like branches
Connecting ancestors to new trends

Somebody said the hood smells like dawn
With all the rough and ghost corners
Framing the justice that houses dignity
The hood remains a home for likeminds…

©ruthspoetry 2017

ROOTING FOR SIMPLICITY

<a href="http://Roots” target=”_blank”>

To make a simple parquet
wishing for love and serenity
absolute power of speech
and an ivory of casted fury

savoring the tongues to slay
heaven knows the history
the thousandth truth is born
as the victimized hero fell

trampling on the odds of none
falling to the ghosted ambush
the only survivor remained his soul
with the score of good or evil

the thief is surrounded by his like
and the spirits that do not wish him well
chose the end while the present thrives
the last score never gives a warning…

©ruthspoetry 2017

EXPOSE YOUR CROWN

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You were born
not with gold or silver
rather, a humble beginners luck
to be the star they never saw
with an ambition to win
to rise to the throne made for you
and rule the world you thrive to own
in shades of faith and belive
the impossible is the possible
inspire yourself to grow
loose the edges that burden you
face the mountains that belittle you
your birth wasn’t your glory
your death is; your score to life
the day you lived, is the day you won
expose yourself to the world outside
harness the energy you groom
your crown is only a footstep away…

ruthspoetry 2017

<a href="http://Exposure“>

LIMITS OF LIVING

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Stretched
the turns that break the soul
releasing bands of uncured anger
stroking the feelings that are chained

Broken
under the heart is a fragile belt
the zone of no wall
that’s where it hurts the most

Scarred
somewhere within us
a fibrous velvety line that renames fate
opposing any law to be debated

Memory
a movie that wears haunt
passing judgemental rhythm
tormenting, yet provoking a new start…

ruthspoetry 2017

<a href="http://Overworked“>

MUSIC IN MY HEAD

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I’m lost in my head
the echos are louder
the drumsticks beats the drum better
the strings never rocked the guitar better
the notes from the piano dance in circles
and the violin, the definition of lost vocals
bringing together a melody that is soul captivating
enchanting me to a world where I belong
the voices lay faded as I enjoy the rhythm
simply defining music as exquisite

…That’s what music feels like with my earpiece on

ruthspoetry 2016

<a href="http://Exquisite“>

A NEW START

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On a virgin slate
a new topic is inscribed
words after words
line by line
till phrases make perfect sense
then an epic tale is unravelled

On yet another virgin slate
an old topic is revisited
and dressed in previous harmony
the story line remains untouched
leaving an old vibe
in a new package

A new beginning and a strong start
a perfect duo for the resolutions
whether a fresh start or a change of habits
the decision to a new leaf is personal
yet the outcome is an arrow directed at everyone
to either appease or condemn the victim…

HAPPY NEW YEAR BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE ❤❤❤

ruthspoetry 2017

CHRISTMAS IS A HOME

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On cold and snowy days
when grandma’s face rocks
my smile and
the smell of old spice
parades the house
with chattering
of winter buddies
applauding the dance
of a toddler
to a christmas song
more knocks and
more cheers
the scent of
this season is vintage
a powerful reunion
of tired men and women
healing their souls
through family time…

Our Christmas
is a home
and our fulfilment
began with a kiss
of our santa; grandpa.

MERRY CHRISTMAS BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE.

ruthspoetry 2016

<a href="http://Festive“>

Guess What My Obsessions Are?..

Obsessed

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I have three strong obsessions;

One of them binds me strongly to him
it drags me to this world I can’t rule
and bites my ego to dust

The other mocks my girly pose
it draws me closer to being a shrew;
an insensitive parade of filters

Ah! The last one is a sister to vanity
it takes me to an ecstatic calling
and roots me down to a bed of regrets

…take a long breath and guess, what are my obsessions?

-Ruthspoetry 2016

Deepened Surface of Love

<a href=”http://Surface“>

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Oh! to sit and tell the stories of nothing
place lines in appropriate verses
catch the sun in a painting of Po
risk my feet through the heat of coal
dance with the fireflies to rest
watch the seconds grow into minutes,
you will still remain my muse…

All my earthly yearns lay vague
as time stops when I stare at you
your eyes are the perfect definition of beauty
locking my days and nights to servanthood
the confessions of my mouth mocks my heart
…psst!!! If only my heart had a voice
then you would know my plight
and the transparency of true love
I have only one hope
that you will see the depth of the surface
and know the curve I drew you in.

Till our world ends
you have won the vanity of my lips
and the foolishness of my head
I will age with my love ever young
to heal the lies nature will tell on you…

Ruthspoetry 2016

Old Soldier

<a href=”http://Saga“>

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We began warring long
before your birth
Fighting the wars
that made you live
Saving lives
with phlegm
Creating a world
of peaceful living
To ends that matter
and souls lost
Our memories lay golden
as our scars forever cries
We are old soldiers
yet the youngest in justice…

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

A SHADE OF THOUGHTS

<a href="http://Beach“>

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She said;

in cold and windy warmth
I lay and mute time
on the beach, on my back
counting the stars
naming them after destiny
the ideology of peace prevails
as the water and sand mate
beneath the locks of my skin
to birth the soul with moist
sprouting the growth of a new mind
relieving the fever that burns within
the solace I seek is in stages
to heal, then to love

I said;

the solace we seek is within
to love ourselves till we heal
acknowledging our emotions
amending the vanity of shielded paths.
For me, life is a constant war
that we will always win
what matters is the timing…

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

A SOMBER CALL

Solitude

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Never so far,
not so close.
The bonds of peace growing,
blooming in even gravity
to slim the fatted ego
of sadness,
and crack the emotions that lay stern.

The frank acceptance
of Ole pages,
stays within checkmating the tiff.
Weakness lied,
it spoke the words that didn’t exist,
and coated the red scar that healed,
blinded by selfish anticipations
and a solitude of amplified gore.

The cloud never released a tear
to support the complains
wrapped in the vexed truth,
or to war the angered lovebirds
and tear apart the lasted pain.
Goodbye; the word that could not be spelt,
yet the soul denied the fuss
and bathed itself with music.
Of all the love given;
this remains the old story…

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

MIND IN WORDS

<a href="http://Breath“>

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Sooner than the summer
just two oldies away
I’d be a bird, free and blue
soaring in new champagne looks
dancing to tunes of redeeming rhymes
becoming a flip away from destiny
with an anchored grasp on faith
my ambition remains my loyalty
soaking my dreams in all of its moist
bubbling to ease the wrinkles that age
the sun: my greatest alibi
the moon: the challenge I face
the twinkled shapes bid me uprise
to vain the ache of fate
and mount the pride of self
till then, one breath is all it takes…

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

AN ODE TO JESUS: OUR EDGE

Edge
The cross

Precious Jesus
not looking at our patched robe of sin,
or our weary faith and doubting soul,
or the wickedness of our hands,
he chose to bear the course of our repentance
in the likeness of a man he came,
teaching love and purity to all age.

The sacrifice he made is incomparable,
liberating us from the score of death,
redeeming our souls and perfecting his word,
giving us the power of resurrection
bringing to live our dead faith and joy
lifting our burdens and bearing our pain.

For Christ died that we may have life,
enjoy the fullness of his never failing grace
and his strong edge of protection over us…

Happy Easter to my beautiful and wonderful readers… Much love…

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

THE LOST PRICE

<a href="http://Price“>
Woman

She calls on faith
believing in words he muttered
accepting a crown in despair
locking away her freedom forever.
The lies she believed was black
staining the good soul
cursing her desires to grey
chattering walls with agony.
The peace she seeks is biased
her prayers eluded her purpose
revealing burnt darts of chaos
she loved for no glory
yet the price of love slapped her
aging her soul and body
keeping her as the idol
of a lost love tale

©2016. Ruth Brodrick