The King of Kings is Coming

Here’s a poem I wrote one December after a stressful Christmas Eve shopping trip.

work in progress

The King of Kings is coming
I’m off to buy a tree
and baubles and some tinsel
and some yummy things for tea

The King of Kings is coming
I must get the presents wrapped
Nice perfume for Aunt Mabel
Turkey Whiskas for the cat

The King of Kings is coming
Have I bought enough mince pies?
The shops are closed for one whole day!
Will we have enough supplies?

The King of Kings is coming
It’s time to celebrate
So get one more drink down you
Becaush it’s Chrishmash, mate

The King of Kings is coming
He’s knocking, can’t you hear?
Oh shush, I want to watch this film,
Let’s pretend that we’re not here.




© Meirav M. 2000

(Yes, I wrote this back in December 2000.)

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yes, real

I just wrote a poem about online friendships. In tears.

work in progress

they tell me it’s not real
they say these friendships aren’t the same as
face to face,
meeting for coffee, being in
the same
physical location

and yet
these tears I cry today are real
as are you, the friend who has just…
…vanished

it is easier to vanish
in the online world

and I will probably never know
what happened
and you, my friend
will never know
what a very real hole you left
in my heart



I wish you well, and I will miss you.






© Meirav M. 2016

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thoughts on waking up today

I wake up and you are there

how else would I cope
how would I get through this time of year
you know about the SAD, Lord
the daylight hours are so few right now
and seasonal depression tries so hard to drag me down

life feels so much harder
the to do list feels like a mountain to climb
I get discouraged when I think of
all that I haven’t done
all that I need to get done
and the daylight hours being so few right now

but waking up with all those thoughts and feelings
I know I’m not alone
I wake up knowing that you’re there
and that you love me

how else would I cope
 
 
© Meirav M. 2015
 
 
 

I awake, and I am still with you.

 
 

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”

 
 
 

Friday night at the pub. Two lonely, messed-up people. Not a pretty story.

10 Feb 1995. I wasn’t in a good place then.

work in progress

She’s been single for almost four months now. She’d forgotten how it can feel – or maybe it didn’t feel like this last time she was single? No, it didn’t feel like this. She was young then, and… what was it? a carefree feeling? a confidence that she could be loved and desired and valued? a self assurance that came from… well, from people wanting her. She had always had people wanting her, she had always known that she could have pretty much any guy if she just showed an interest, a willingness. Her body was desirable, back then.

Nine years later, who is she? what is her worth in the singles market? looking in the mirror she sees a tummy that hadn’t been there before, and she’s not so sure of herself.

She’s had nine years of being cooked for and fed and made fat by the person who…

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