TEA! Yas, please.

So this is a concept for a Mary Poppins parody that my daughter and I were laughing about one day. I wrote the poem in about 30 minutes, so excuse any rough structure! But it’s supposed to be a song as well. It’s all things British and that sort of thing. 😀

Would you see this at your local theatre? I’m thinking it would be a cute scene for a children’s acting workshop. 🙂


Messy Misadventures of Missie Drippins

I Love a Good Cuppa Tea

When there’s something wrong with me
And I can hardly see
What to do or who to be
It’s quite elementary
I have a spot of tea

Steaming, swirling,
Polish up the Sterling
Don’t limit the Darjeeling
Darling, pour me a cup with feeling

No need to stop conferring
Pinkie out while stirring
Delicate teaspoons start me swooning
Talk of tea will send me crooning

I take mine sweet with lemon
They even guzzle tea in Yemen
Some say they prefer the coffee drip
But I’ve seen them take their fair sip

Earl Grey drives the gray away
The rising sun is here to stay
The Old Grey has bergamot
And I say, “Why ‘the berg’ not?”

No matter how many lumps you’ve got
Even the angels have a spot
Pip, pip, cheerio, and all that, Love
Tea is sent from God above

Ear-roll Greeeeeey
Take me away
All my troubles will drain away
High tea will end this difficult day

Bergamot oil is heaven
Have a cup or two or seven
Sit on down, drink it up
Joy is found at the bottom of your cup

When you get a troubled letter
When life has turned you bitter
Have a cup and you’ll be better
Just a sip and you’ll feel fitter

If you prefer dairy with your leaves
Tea doesn’t mind, as you please
Just remember the milk in first
Then life can do its very worst

After a good cuppa tea

Put a kettle on for a cuppa
Keep your quivering chin uppa
Straighten your back
Plan your attack
But first have a cuppa tea

Stiffen that uppa lip
Pour a cuppa for the trip
Drink it down, fill it up
Time for just one more cup

Sip with me
And you’ll agree
Clouds will part
Over calmer sea
Drink’s the key
Hear my plea
Free the tea
God save the Queen

Here’s my theory for when you’re weary
Don’t be leery, ban the bleary
Cheer up, Sweetie, wipe your teary
Pour a cuppa for you, Deary?

Clearly you are nearly
In need of tea severely
So have a good cup of tea
Order a cup, on me

I luva good cuppa tea

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Beloved

Yes.

Today will be tough.

Today might suck hard.

You might have to climb the tallest mountain you have ever faced today.

You might have to:
tell someone the truth,
lose 1 pound,
love someone who is unlovable,
discover a clumsy lie.

You might:
gain 3 pounds,
fight with a loved one,
discover someone’s gone,
ruin or have your day ruined with an ugly word.

God may ask you to face something really horrible and ugly about yourself that needs to change before you can move forward.

You may have to live with the shame, guilt and heartache that sits in your throat like an immovable lump because there is no one to hear your pain.

You may be paralyzed by fear.

But.
YOU ARE ALIVE!

He didn’t give these problems, friends, husband, kids, parents, body, mind or life to anyone but you because He knows how strong you really are when you’re loved. When He loves you.

Go out and get whatever it is you need today! And stand strong in the knowledge that you are LOVED! The daughter of the one, true king.

Amen. ❤

Scarred Up

Old poem. Reposting. Still like it!


It isn’t a coincidence that scared
Has one less letter than scarred.

Scarred is the past tense of scared.

The extra R is regret.

But oh, how shiny that R is when relief glows from under.
Pushing up the skin. Puckering at my prodding finger.
Because I’m still alive.

And oh, that is sacred. To survive.

monstrous responsibility

i may be a monster
but i possess some good
which i see is inconvenient
to the ending of your book

i may be a monster
but it’s implied that i was made
every wall was built
every evil brick was laid

which part did you construct?
what sins did you leave behind?
what dark design did you
conjure with your mind?

I’m simply a mirror
held to the face of man
when i’m wielding the ax
my hands execute your plan

sympathy for the seduced medusa

raped because he could
cursed for no good
snakes under this hood
see myself and turn to stone

never meet another eye
pretend that i am shy
lock the truth behind this lie
walk this wicked earth alone

someone’s out for my head
“i’m a monster,” it’s been said
made from blood a man has shed
i was merely trying to learn

the only wisdom i would gain–
knowledge of Poseidon’s pain
it’s a wonder i’m still sane
endless hell in which i burn

product of your sex-crazed town
you kick me when i’m already down
my heart dies without a sound
so you can ignore it

coerced/seduced
cursed and abused
quite simply reduced
to the slut who asked for it

 

Broken-hearted is not a bad place to be.

Under water
Bottom of the pile
Broken-hearted
Nothing left to defile

Can’t piece this puzzle
Ripped to ribbons
Remnants of this raiment
Spinning in oblivion

Naked emotion
Raw devotion
You can’t expect
A controlled explosion

Dangling in cliff’s shadow
Reaping fields that fallowed
Run aground in the shallows
Swallowed whole in the valley of gallows

Even the devil wouldn’t follow
Through this unhallowed hollow
Choke back a hard swallow
Funeral for the sorrow

Give you my word
If you’re still keeping score
You can blame me
I’ll fall on my sword

Can’t bring this heart home
It was born to wild around
Built to be lost in war
Through heartache I am found

Don’t Say Ain’t

Lithograph from erased highlight charcoal self-portrait, 2010–Martha Maggio
Ain’t nobody gonna love you like God, your mama, or you.
And ain’t nobody gonna love you ’til you do.–Martha Maggio


Walk in the room
Automatically assume
No one could ever love you

Why can’t you accept
That body they reject
Is just a vehicle for truth

The truth is–
Your beauty doesn’t come from:
A jar.
Your hair.
A great pair of: eyes, boobs, legs, shoes.
The end of a knife.

Your value is eternal, divine
Twinkle in God’s eyeshine
Not for everyone.

You are–
Far, far away from long, long ago
From freaking outer space.

So act like an alien and conquer the earth.


Or just love yourself from this rebirth.

To Dust You Shall Return

Photo: Martha Maggio, from the garden at Mount Carmel, potted Cyclamen, Israel

I know it’s not easy to love me.

Temperamental
Hard-to-handle
Hot-headed
Hothouse flower

Fading in the bright light
Swamped in the black of night
Wilting with any slight
Change

Strange
Delicate
Difficult
Intricate

Complex and rare
Complicated care
But my air is sweet
And I only bloom for you.

To my unfortunate gardener ❤
You shall turn the earth.

You’ll Understand When You’re Older

When I’m bigger
I might figure
Why you let me down

You say, “Wait.”
Fate will rend the hate
And love will leave me found

You say, “This was my best.”
That life is just a test
And if I walk away, I fail

But you’re the one who lost
Made your choice at such a cost
To our history the final nail

Now that I am grown
All I see you’ve sown
Is bitter beds of rot

And all I can do
Is move to land that’s new
Find a better lot

You can try to save what’s left
Fill the gaping cleft
Writhe in the ash and black

Mourn with the bereft
Let death have its theft
But as for me I won’t look back