The Curious Adventures of Gordan's Thoughts

What do we do when the enemy cries?
Do we mock their pains, or empathise?

What do we do when the racists scream
that they want to conserve their liberties?

What do we do when classists steal
from those who have less material?

What do we do when sexists refuse
to embrace others as human but then make excuses?

What do we do when homophobes whine
about the fear of being ‘hit on’ all the time?

What do we do when ageists enforce ideals
not to address them by name but instead by title?

What do we do when religious indoctrination
is interpreted with arrogance and not with empowerment?

What do we do when any other human
believes it’s acceptable to compete for validation?

What do we do when abusers run towards weapons,
provoke violence, get beaten, then play ‘victim’?

What do we do when the enemy cries?
Do we mock their pains, or empathize?

 

MG

 

 

 

 

Inspired by Hong Kong 

The bird wanted the fish to feel
How free it was to fly
He plucked the fish from the sea
And got angry when it died…

MG

 

 

 

[Moral]
Acceptance and cooperation
The bird is freest when flying in the sky, whereas the fish is freest in the water.
The bird imposed its own understanding of freedom on the fish then was disappointed that the fish could not fly.

[Lesson]
The problem was that the bird did not adjust its expectation, but the solution was that the bird could adapt.
It just ate the dead fish.

This limerick is for mums
Who work through rain and sun
To make sure the family’s fed
To ensure the kids are well-bred
To provide both discipline and fun

Mothers all over the world
Care for their boys and girls
Loving them despite their flaws
Guiding them to do house chores
Watching as the future unfurls

Mothers work ever so hard
Tis truly quite an art
To manage a family
To maintain stability
To give their kids a fresh start

Mothers are rather great
We ought to appreciate
The effort it took them
To be good parents
Such love is shown on Mothers’ Day

 

MG

The romantic in me
Falls in love with beauty
A beauty so real
It remains unseen

Tis the beauty of a moment
Trees — nature’s monument
Grapes — that will ferment
Leaves — colour grey cement

Tis the beauty of people
Whose spark makes you feel
Whose presence makes you special
The beauty of family

Tis the beauty of sunsets
A harmonious duet
A beauty that pulls us away from regret
A beauty we shant forget

The romantic in me
Falls in love with beauty
A beauty so real
It’s experienced, not seen

 

MG

Huxley instead of Hardy
Tolstoy rather than Tolkien
Why Dickens when we’ve Dostoevsky?
Oi, Kafka! Not Kerouac!
Get more Wilde then chill with the Wordsworth
Bring in Forster and replace Faulkner

…so maybe, just maybe, we could have a generation with jobs instead of “socialist warriors”.

 

#ReviseHowYouTeachLiterature

 

 

MG

Flash fiction

 

“God, grant us world peace,” prayed the old woman.

“God, keep the art alive,” prayed the young man.

“Without chaos, there would be no art. Without art, no peace. Peace exists because of chaos, without chaos an artless world would lack peace,” said God.

 

MG

The crossroad is where you and I first met,
I inched forward whilst you raced on ahead,
Neither of us knew what was in store
But I sought direction and you just wanted… “more”.

Here we meet again,
at this crossroads, my friend;
Me? I never left,
merely needed the rest.
You ran in circles
wrapping up your own mess.
Never have I seen
anyone in such distress,
for usually it is I who causes
the chaos and unrest.

If I am to admit, t’has truly been quite a while
since I’ve had to hide a tear and even feign a smile.
Yet that is what you’ve needed,
so that is what I gave,
then you trampled on our seeds
sent our forest to its grave.

After all this time
I surrender my pride
Your demons are no longer
my battle to fight.
They never really were,
nonetheless I tried
But darling, I’m not your saviour
Just a friend you devoured.

MG

 

 

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