Skip to main content

Handcrafted

 In a World of throwaway goods,
and mass manufactured meanings.

Crooked grins on billboards gleaming,
salesmen scheming full of bluster.

I want something soft of lustre,
made by gentle, honest hands.
With love and care,
and time and passion.

Something fair,
not fickle fashions,
made to fit a business plan,
for moneys sake,
seductive scams.

I want lovers,
not just fans,
or things just bought
and thrown away.

I want things for rainy days,
when there are no words to say,
no jobs to do, or games to play.

Give me something I can treasure,
made of beauty,
made for pleasure.

~MStJ




Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

MStJ Blog

Here you can find a selection of my poetry from the last couple of years, which will be constantly updated. As well as hand made collections available for purchase.  My first collection of Poetry is for sale now, it's called Box of Tinder and you can get a copy through this blog, just complete the order form and I will be in touch. I am working on another few collections, which will hopefully be available over the next year.   My Social Media links: Twitter Facebook Instagram  
Post a Comment
Read more

Awakening

Golden light warmed my body, beckoned my eyes to open. Open themselves, to Sol's penetrating sight. Forcing his way through the smallest cracks, in my curtains. Golden showers, from his big beaming face, nurturing Honeysuckle, Jasmine and Rose. Fragrant aromas floating, through my windows, blown by gentle breeze, into my nose, teasing me to leave, my comfortable repose. I deeply breath, put on my hemp underclothes, sourced responsibly, assume half lotus pose, then transition to tree. Opening my heart wide, to receive energy, and divine inspiration, I descend to my knees. Meditating until, my mind's in a trance, the world becomes a stage, and my routine a dance, that my body flows through, like a channel of love, aligned to higher powers, directed from above. ~MStJ
Post a Comment
Read more

Things

  There are objects all around me. A roll of thread. A green glass bottle. A dormant pine cone. There are things everywhere I look, scattered all around my home. Leather bound books. Paperback books. A lifetime worth of books. Dusty, damaged, well worn, ravaged, by these hands of mine. Two mirrors on opposite walls, a ball of garden twine. Two blue weights. A chest of drawers, of rich dark pine. Many pens which often fall, onto the floor, ball points, fountains. A5 notebooks, paper mountains, shifting over time. Two cups in my reach, each stained by tea, one empty. One larger, half full. Lemon and ginger vapours, fragrant, flee, circulate and linger, carried by the steam. Batteries. Remote controls, for radio & the TV, which shape my dreams, with shiny fables. Cables run along the skirting, behind a well used coffee table. Candles, wallet, nicotine, cover it's surface. Earphones and some old CD's. A passport, Watch. Behind it countless things, forgot, and small enough to fa...
Post a Comment
Read more