Why work?

They say that work defines you,

But is that ok by you?

It wasn't ok by me,

Until I thought, maybe it should be.

Buddhists see work as an outlet,

For creativity, innovation, effort.

A rewarding experience that makes life,

Whole, allows you to keep a family and wife.

They say 'If you do a job you love,

You'll never work another day'.

But could this true I wondered?

As all around me advertising thundered.

'You need to work to be able to consume!'

The latest car, house or experience,

An iPod, iPhone, iPad, it all,

But what if, I, don't want to?

What if I want to work not for money,

But for the love of using my skills.

I don't work to kill, myself or others,

I work to bring life, end strife, help mothers.

Everyday I'm blessed to wake,

Because I'm inspired to go to work.

I'm inspired to inspire, and light a fire,

And never work another day, until I retire.

I wrote this poem for the dVerse Poets pub poetics challenge or writing a poem around the theme of work (as you may have guessed!)

I made a decision a number of years ago to never work for money, but rather to always work for something I love and believe in. This has led to work for a number of not-for-profits, environmental/sustainability organisations and now the child focused humanitarian organisation World Vision.

I love it.

I often arrive at work and suddenly think about how lucky I am to be paid to do what I love, and to help others at the same time, whether (hopefully) inspiring youth in New Zealand to be all that they can be, or raising money for our community development work in the Third World.

This poem is written as a spoken word piece so read it out loud and please let me know what you think!

Journey into a forbidden relationship - Part 4

The longest 20 minutes of my life,

As I'm torn to shreds with internal strife.

I thought she was gone and she's suddenly back,

Not only that but it's all an attack.

Now that i can handle if it's justified,

But she's no idea and I'm still crucified!

She accuses me of gross immaturity,

And to top it all off thinks she knows me,

When she's got no idea what I feel,

Because I tried to support her and let her heal.

This was the final poem I wrote about this relationship which was developing with a friend who was already with someone. 

She had misunderstood something I said through a text, where it is so easy to do so, and written a pretty stern and disappointed message. I knew she was driving home and had to wait 20 minutes before I could call her to clear it up.

We sorted out that issue then a few days later it  was better we didn't see each other or keep in touch to much as it was just making things difficult and complicated.

The photo is a bit extreme but almost represents how I was feeling at that point. It is from the 1960s Spartacus movie.

Any thoughts?

 

Journey into a forbidden relationship - Part 3

One  reason I like you is I write again.
Every time I pick up a pen,
In my mind words do flow,
As our love continue to grow.

Now please excuse the flowery word,
Even to me it sounds absurd.
But love can mean many things,
Not only the moment when cupid stings.

And I cannot deny what I feel,
These feelings simply must be real.
For they really will not go away,
No matter what we do or say.

I got inspired to write this third poem on 7 May. I was trying to think through why I liked the friend I had growing feelings for. As mentioned before she already had a boy friend and as such the relationship couldn't go anywhere.

So far I've have written one more poem about the relationship as time went on and I'll upload it next week.

 

Continue to join me through the poetic journey through the emotions of love.  

 

What do you think so far, can you relate? Have you been in the same position?

What does it mean to be a child?

 School children enjoying their uniforms in Tanzania,

Photo © World Vision New Zealand 2012

Every child living life in all its fullness,
But what does that even mean?
A child in all their usefulness,
Living in a world that's healthy and green?

Or maybe it refers to their belly,
And the fact some look so lean,

But we can't blame the parents really,

When the rain just hasn't been.

Because just as importantly,

This is one we can achieve.

We can see a world that's hungerfree,

If we only work and believe.

Perhaps it's also about education,

To help them rise above?

Could this be the key to their emancipation,

And help them to fly like a dove?

What about those held in servitude,

How can we help their cause?

We can draw attention to their multitude,

And work to end all wars.

But really the key to the phrase,

Is a child must be a child,

Able to grow through that phase,

Running and playing and wild.

I finished this piece for the dVerse Poets pub weekly poetics challenge where you are given a key word, phrase or idea and encouraged to write a piece.

The challenge this week was to celebrate Maurice Sendaks life - the author of children's book 'Where the Wild Things Are' - and because I work for World Vision, an international humanitarian organisation that focuses on children, I decided to look at our mission statement and see what it means for the life of a child.

It goes: "Our will for every child: life in all its fullness. Our prayer for every heart: the will to make it so."

I know this only loosely relates to the topic but as Maurice Sendak was someone who obviously cared a lot about children I think he'll understand ;-)

Any comments really appreciated!

Journey into a forbidden relationship - Part 2

Warmth and passion, or destruction?

I see her everywhere I go,

She is in everything I do,

She is my motivation, she is my frustration.

Her beauty stops my breath,

And her wit brightens my day,

She is my awe, she is my internal war.

I live for our conversations,

And follow wise advice.

She is my guide, she wavers with the tide.

I respect her for her values,

From that which I can glean.

She is my match, she is fire's thatch.

I enjoy all time spent with her,

In many a varied way,

She drives me round the bend, she is my friend.

I wrote this piece shortly after Part 1, while continuing to deal with a relationship that was developing with a friend, but which could never work because she already had a boy friend she loved.

Again, I have written other poems as the relationship developed and will continue to upload them in chronological order. 

Continue to join me through the poetic journey through the emotions of love. 

Journey into a forbidden relationship - Part 1

I walk through this field of fallen dreams,

And consider the wisdom contained in reams,

Of experience, all from my life,

Earned through pain and through strife.

I've a fair idea where this path will go,

But I don't stop and nor do I slow,

In one way I like the pain,

For suddenly I'm writing again.

I remind myself who I could win,

But how could that happen without bowing to sin?

And now the time is not right,

My side of the scale is too light.

So I must my emotions control,

If I'm not to pay Cupid's toll.

I wrote this piece in the park pictured above on 03/05/12 while I was trying to deal with a relationship that was developing with a friend, but which could never work because she already had a boy friend she loved.

In regards to the photo the intriguing 'ruins' are in Western Park, Ponsonby, Auckland, NZ, and are artwork by John Radford called 'The Tip. The photo is from Auckland Daily Photo blog.

I have written other poems as the relationship developed and will upload them in chronological order. A poetic journey through the emotions of love.  

I have uploaded this poem for the dVerse Poets digital pub open link night because it is a piece that is current to me at the moment, the experience got me writing again and I think the series could make interesting reading.

My Love is not the most beautiful

A week in and the honeymoon glow has begun to fade,

So goes the blindness of new love, reality I see again.

Not the angel I saw before, a different judgement I’ve now made.

My Love is not the most beautiful, although she’s far from plain.

She cares more for others than her own self,

But there are others just as kind.

She’s got no great recognised intellectual wealth,

Though her nation’s produced many a great mind.

My Love’s adventurousness gained my adoration,

But, many too have traveled and made the world their home.

Her sense of justice and morality fuel my admiration,

However in this noble field she again is not alone.

But let me stress with the words of a master,

“And yet I think my love as rare”,

As rare, more real, with a depth vaster,

Than “any she belied with false compare.”

I finished this poem on 4 May 2010. It was obviously inspired by Shakespeare's Sonnet 130, "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun", which mocks the conventions of the showy and flowery courtly sonnets in its realistic portrayal of his mistress.

I attempted to do the same writing about my girlfriend at the time.

What do you think of this? Is the role of a poem to exaggerate reality or accurately describe it or both?

Shakespeare's Sonnet 130

Read by Alan Rickman

A short poem after a breakup in 2007:

Nothing left to say

I feel like I should talk to her,

But I’ve nothing left to say.

Two paths that were a joined,

Each went a separate way.