- The Bucket Digest -

  A Divorced Child’s Tragedy by Skylan Abraham Never and Always I search the Desolate hall Ways deep in the Shoulders of my mind Exhausted Life and it; problems Torn eyes knowing both Truth and Lies but still ever Unknowing. Years drag; my skin it Cries dreams of high tides a Sigh and loss and Alone comes Spring.   I'd like to know your interpretation, feel free to comment below :)

"Every sunset brings the promise of a new dawn." -Ralph Waldo Emerson      If I could round up today's artist's landscapes in just a few words, I'd iterate, "nature and the sum of all its intricacies."       It's through artist Tamkeen Fatima's details and close observation skills (oftentimes going hand-in-hand) that these scenes shine. For this first landscape, it's the reflection of sun on snow; the slight pink, orange, and yellow tones lead our eyes down the center of this terrain towards the sun, pulling us in, seemingly granting us first-person witness upon an inspiring scene.         In this piece, the juxtaposition of the trees complement one another, creating balance: first veering right, then going left, and then finally spreading around as we reach the back of the scene, creating a sense of depth and vastness. This piece feels open, soul-embracing.       From the colors of the ocean (the greens along the shore, the purples and navy

Dynamite by Skylan Abraham They opened their mouths spewing dynamite, with which neither side of the discussion could be heard; making perhaps, an argument, not the latter. Two stubborn men, answers absolute, Right vs. Ignorant. Had a solution evolved? I do not know. I left before I knew. I heard talk of an ending friendship, and pity for them befell me, should I have stepped in? Given them, perhaps, an outsider's perspective? Not for the sake of proving each wrong, but rather providing insights on both viewpoints, and maybe end up saving a friendship? Passive in nature, I am no hero, however small a hero as such an act would make, Disclaimer, I give no perfect judgments, and try not to, for in my mind, it rings, "do not judge unless thee be judged," Yet, from listening in, I saw the issues of both, and felt urged to give an unbiased opinion. My gut echoed to me, "it's okay, you should do this..." Knowing well not to overstep my brain vs my heart, I did not,

    In the post  I am Woman , I talked about one of my personal 2022 New Year's Resolutions. Today, I want to discuss the other goals I didn't mention then.      Before I state what that is, I want to paint you a picture, based on first-person perspective;           Comparing myself to others was easy. It always has been. When I say that, I don't mean it in an over self-confident way, like they were "them" and I was "me" in a sense that I was better than everyone else, but rather the opposite.       I was just a shy elementary student when I started to become aware of my flaws. It was a really simple thing, but there was a girl who used to poke fun at the mole on my back, and I began covering it. It's not particularly large, just obvious, and I always wore a jacket or had my hair down from that day on. I covered it for a long time.  It was only about the time I hit 10th grade that I decided I didn't care if people saw it anymore. It was just a mo

  Where I've come from Yesterday by Skylan Abraham Yesterday is only one day, surely, Yet how far do you feel you've come, since 730 "simply yesterday's" ago? Where did you see yourself; with husband or child? Traveling, attending school, living your life mild, or perhaps, traversing amongst the wild? Are you mature, compassionate, empathetic, aware. Yet, conversely a child? Dramatic, ecstatic, "life is unfair," a little less: compiled? The future is uncertain. Yet, one thing's for sure, through every so-called door, or if bold you be... out every window, there lie opportunities, golden mistakes And perpetual growth. Yesterday is only one day away. With it, the tides of change grow less faded. I've come far from yesterday.

 It's okay if you're tired today, but remember:     Image Credit: Marrio31

Baby Blues by Skylan Abraham In an incessantly stress-ridden world, his sky-colored, baby blue eyes are the one thing that calms me. Within them, I imagine what he sees with seamless curiosity, a world obscure, yet so small a world as his living room. The admiration for textures unknown, for sounds twice heard or of creatures besides him; the cat, rabbit, or mice. Odd in their manners, but most of all exciting. He attempted to reach out to the animals, his friends, and once to the mirror he saw himself in. No serious reflection, as adults often attend, but one of "wow, look at me," and unaware of his insecurities, he grinned his toothy grin with utmost confidence, amazed at his reflection. If only we could Unearth the world around us, anew, as if we were children. What would our world be like then? Reflected, through his baby blues?

Don't Quit Poet: Edgar A. Guest When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and the debts are high, And you want to smile, but you have to sigh, When care is pressing you down a bit Rest if you must, but don't you quit. Life is queer with its twists and its turns, As every one of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about When they might have won, had they stuck it out. Don't give up though the pace seems slow, You may succeed with another blow. Often the struggler has given up When he might have captured the victor's cup; And he learned too late when the night came down, How close he was to the golden crown. Success is failure turned inside out The silver tint of the clouds of doubt And you never can tell how close you are, It may be near when it seems so far; So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit, It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit!

                    Announcing a new segment to the blog is always an exciting venture, and I'm happy to share that every Tuesday from today onward I will be posting poetry written by yours truly. I hope you'll join us in the enjoyment of verse.      Today's poem is an original; told from a mother's perspective.    Peanut Butter Crackers By: Skylan Abraham I often munch on peanut butter crackers a gentle, and tasty pairing between protein and carb. Like mother and son, stuck together so closely, a sweet reliance on one another; purpose. A cracker without peanut butter is just plain. Son at her hip, she knows her importance. She feels bittersweet, for one day his necessity of her will undoubtedly end. What will she do then? Who will she be? Questions that heed no answer, until the thought of this future meets day. She's afraid. Her love for him is so great. Please don't forget your mother, and her love for peanut butter crackers.