Rianna Shaikh's Blog, page 6
April 29, 2023
Whether or not

My fussy book Whether or not; the sun barely rises, yet the cloud stays out and feign, I miss her dearly darling in each et every way. If life were just a day, what would you say?If its not forever then what can I fear? How shall I fear?What shall i fear?For in time this whole day will never replay et all that your fret about will never exist.
And all these daunting thoughts will never relive its moment. But where in the world would this memory go and how in the world will I find you again?Will you remember me for this heart still beats?Will you love me when love no longer plays it’s sound and all that we hoped for is not around.

Forever
Revk Ambrose.
A farewell book
(on Loss).
what about us: Duomo
April 26, 2023
The word parents.
My parents,
They never loved me, nobody told me so.
My heart whispered to me. I think when the world speaks,
we shouldn’t listen.
Because our heart and soul will tell us of its stupidity.
Me you ask?
Why I am mere girl of 1o, I hope to grow up and punish adults for being so dull and full of disappointments and I hope like Mary pop-pins to have such a position in life that I can help children become un- relentless and hopeful. Of course it sounds better reading out loud. See world my parents were mud pies. And lately I am feeling wiser and older and madder. Mad like this,“Father I hope the throne you sit on kicks you off and throws you to the common people, because your daughter is one of them. And that is where the lesson is, you old king.”Then, my heart tears and my big mouth whispers,“Father you are king of everything to you but to the people all around you, you are king of nothing.
I lied,
“You are king of my heart ache.”That sir is the hugest position you will have.
So did I teach you anything today world?
Glad to know you, Forever Neverps. For the parents who think they are wiser than their bitterness.
April 25, 2023
Father – mother

My fussy diary,
I was told when I was young my mother was mort. And father was lost. Between both worlds I was sad and lost and yet hope was my heart. I cried forever until I swam with never and she told me this: “ don’t wander far from forever because lost you are never and hungry for love always ever.”
I remember her and I never forgot that swim. So if you are out there hungering for love and sad because your parents never gave you love, search deeper inside.
And forgive all of the mud pies.
See, there is someone that sees you, that hears you, that loves you, that’s going to protect you from the fierce foxes and huntsmen.
The funny is;You can’t see him. And you can’t find him. And you can’t prove he exist. But he does, he’ll find you and fix you. He will even mend you. That’s my story, he’s never ending.Glad I know you, Forever never
ps. For mother mort and father lost.
April 18, 2023
Hey!
My dearest,
Its been over 6 months since I had written on any of my platforms et I gotta say my darling readers,
hallo toi!At this point. I . Am. A Legitretired human.oh yah et You knows it-:)let’s update shall we?further, I’m sorry I am never like ever updating my Instagram, like, I have been logged out forever, but when mydear friend Kathy DMs me, it’s serious Merde!
I have been relocating myself, honestly et truth be told I just opened my two books last night.Eager to be read and I swear I cannot relate to anything books at the au courant.
non sir. Or madame. I am still not available!
No it’s not a mid life crisis, i had mine at 16,
and it was terrible.Now,
The 40’s is so darn hekkish. Hellish.I need ten Aston’s to recover

Ok, one would do the job, dear husband.
But, what the heckins am I to do with that, haha, I laugh but let’s get real for a second, isn’t being in your 40’a visit to hell in sweatpants?
Emotinally I feel like 5 different people.
One humble, one materialistic, one lost, one found and lastly,A saint.So there you go, don’t be hard on yourself, it’s part of being alive.Amen, yah?So I gave up on writing.
I gave up on planting.
I Gave up on watering my boxwood garden.they are dead, ps, horticulture my derrière.merci to Martha S, so ain’t you darling.I gave up on Simon- big time.
Yah I realize that I can’t work so hard to make a penny.
Or 2.I Just tossed the pages in,so I could sit on the floor, wear my Christian Dior sunglasses, sweats from Abercrombie, driving someone else’s car, only to find out..drumrolls’il vous plaît?only,to find that I need to get back to books.I am 4 books behind!
Remind me never –ever to have a mid life crisis in the middle of my most inconvenient of times.I mean it.Now I miss you dearly, but I must get back to doing what i live for,Printing books to show everyone, all humans,that I amJYST FINE.blah blah et blah.yah, it’s all about the image, minus my horticulture skills.later foxes et hunters,R Kate ShaikhThe flower duet
charlotte church
ps. Listen to this whilst you read
this, an effect you won’t want to
miss!
😆Charlotte, you owe me
big time baE.
April 12, 2023
Had I?
Would it it matter for it stands as a test.
I wail yet I stand frail for eternity knocks –
to derail all of our senses and all of our dreams; they stay stacked in a place that I cannot trail. For life my dear unfold its own tales.We are just prisoners in a story unseen.
A morning poem from my desk,
hallo world,
good to see you rotating abouts-:)
Foreverly, R Kate Shaikh
Exile : Enya
February 21, 2023
Bare Your cross!

ATOTONILCO, MEXICO –
DECEMBER 29, 2014 Angel Jesus Fresco Sanctuary of Jesus Atotonilco Mexico. Built in the 1700s known as Sistine Chapel of Mexico by Miguel Antonio Martinez between 1740 and 1775.
My fellow readers,
This is perhaps unlike any of my post or stories. You Could say that this year my faith in all things God is defining my very footsteps in the sand.For in our lives it’s the only thing that ever saves us, helps or heals us. It’s the only thing that shall protect us.“I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me. But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.”
May our hearts fully release all the things that we carry, that matters not

Here we are,
the beloved stations of the cross:
Stay holy et learn to forgive
your greatest of err this lent.
Yah, bonne Chance to that !
Yours,
R Kate Shaikh
Prayer to Jesus Christ Crucified
My good and dear Jesus,I kneel before You,asking You most earnestlyto engrave upon my hearta deep and lively faith, hope, and charity,with true repentance for my sins,and a firm resolve to make amends.As I reflect upon Your five wounds,and dwell upon themwith deep compassion and grief,I recall, good Jesus,the words the Prophet David spokelong ago concerning Yourself:“They pierced My hands and My feet;they have numbered all My bones.”————————————————-
February 16, 2023
Tragic beauty
February 15, 2023
Etched into you

“Rivers on fire no one could save me but you.”
They say it will be okay.
This loss shall pass… Dear God, when?
I am filled in its ruin. This pain is far greater than the sky to heaven. I beg to say that you were my
absolute life, it’s been said
a many times.
I would write…
Life hath forsaken me and I but a
human in rags of nothingness. I have been broken to the knees. Fallen in distress with my bare flesh to the dirts of a floor, weeping without tears. Holding on to the years. And falling into all kinds of desolation wrapped in ribbons of despair. Oui, a life of such open sadness
and to you, a mere spirit.
Love and live often times
destroys us in even sight.
Remember it and let me be you torch,
your emotional savior.I am not your Jesus, that’s as far as I can go. I am holding on to the threads of heaven and hell and I still feel your soul etched and torn from mine. I shan’t weep no more as I am drifting into air and fallen to lay at your grave. Sad I am, but how hopeful was I Once in your arms. How glee was I in your arms of your
human flesh? Life you are a miserable rogue to reckon with. You et that mademoiselle time. You belong in the dirt right next to Romeo et his beloved Juliet.
Endless words and pain, Harp Endings
February 11, 2023
Life’s cruelty
holding a handful of white sand,
counting backwards to 0ne.
We did this as children but here I am aged with the finest lines drawn on my flesh et full of feeling. Not at the banks of sanity but the ghastly lake of poise et angst. How do I miss you? Oh dearest like the earth would miss the beings of humanity if it were no more. Like,the trees would shrink her roots to the dirt if the world did cease non? I pine for you as I lay awake counting the dull stars that dread my dreary existence.I miss you more on day 410 as day one. Never forget me, hold me in the chards of your spirit my love.
My broken self so exist, Amelie
A book of Farewell
February 8, 2023
Lost in forever 2

February 7. My forsaken world,As the world breaths as I exhale et how I wonder how will it be to breath up in the air as the world does. How will I feel?I have been captured beneath your nets for so long that I forgot the crisp smile of day et the remembrance of silent starry eyed night.
I miss the sounds of life,
the halo of day and I remember
your hands still in mine.
Like a painting on the great walls of the louvre. We were stuck still in paint always as we were, never changing. To be as we once were forever in that moment, never another. I grieve in my second of now, but stuck in the walls of the clouded past, never future always in the past, forever. Dearest, your life was my breath. Never ever do you forget that. To the beings that live and breathe, I wish you fleeting moments of happy. Not staying forever as I am now.
I bid you adieu. Everly
