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Archive for February, 2010
Before Sunrise
Feb 28th
When the sun goes down. When the lights go out. When the curtains get drawn. It begins. This universal longing for lovers. Old messages will be reread, phones will be stared at, minds will wonder and hearts will hope for one more message or a call.
It’s a universal thing this longing for lovers, my dear. Cherish it and hold on to it with both hands because when the object of all your thoughts and desires shares the same duvet as you, you really will miss those nights. Nights when you could choose which side to sleep on, what time to set the alarm for and only had your own cold feet to deal with.
As time goes on
Feb 27th
I came across a remnant of you by chance today as I held it in my palm I tried to conjure you up in my mind. I tried to feel some pang of regret, or pain even. I tried to remember your voice, your laugh, the way you made it so much better just by being there. I tried to capture that image of you that always made my insides flutter. I tried…I really tried. But, nothing. No pain, no regret.
I placed the remnant of you inside my favourite book. Hoping to come across it again one day. To remember how once upon a time you were all that mattered and all that I loved. All the broken pieces you left behind have rearranged themselves. This new piece is now made up only of the love and happiness of that time
Unexpected Return
Feb 22nd
It feels like forever that I sat and read hours into the night. Losing myself in a novel that holds me in a trance and tells me to keep reading. Looking to remaining pages wondering if it’s possible to finish the book in one sitting, yet grasping those very pages praying for the ending to never come. My eyes cloud up as that feeling of timelessness warms my chest, shifting my realities into an order that makes sense.
I stand and check the time for dawn. This time I don’t make an excuse.
It has been years. That’s why it feels like forever. I look back and see myself sitting in the midst of the night writing poetry. Tears pouring from my eyes as the feelings fell into endless verse. As though there was more time back then.
Since the end of the year, I’ve wanted to write about “2009”. It was the best year of my life, I said. And rightly so, I have never had so many life changing adventures as I did that year. It’s now late February and I haven’t penned anything. Tonight the reason came to me: for everything you gain, there is a loss.
As unpredicted events unfold that lead to my awakening, I look beyond the pretty picture painted for myself. An offset balance has occurred, outputting more words than those I consume. The thought of writing without reading is much like breathing without inhaling. The former cannot be maintained without the latter.
The saying ‘everything happens for a reason’ is usually mentioned when a person is suffering in one way or another. Ironically, the one saying it can’t necessarily relate. Reading between my own lines, I realise just how true that statement is.
You don’t sing…
Feb 21st
Press play.
My favourite tune…
Certain frequencies trigger it.
No, the words, ‘Abusadora, Abusadora…Bendita sea la hora en que te encontré..’
If only they were merely words like the ones you’re reading now, my mental dictionary activated. Processed. Translated.
Stomach quelching. Hips swaying. Eyes closed. Why is there salty water on my face? The taste is one that forever lingers.
I’m not pressing ‘Pause’. The button with the two lines.
Fury. How dare you try to dictate which button I can/can’t press?
I’m me.
Sedúceme negra yo ya prendí la fogata. Se ven las luces de neon y el humo.
I’m not going to translate this one.
It’s my tune. You don’t own it yet somehow your name is on the rest of this damn playlist. Let me have this one song.
Just this one song…please.
Now You see me, now You don’t…
Feb 21st
Shall I tell you why I love you?
Guess…no, don’t…You’ll see stars, red roses or Celine Dion. Bleurgh.
It wasn’t your eyeslashes.
It wasn’t your cool Casio watch.
It wasn’t your charming smile.
It wasn’t your strong deltoids.
It wasn’t your tan brown shoes.
It wasn’t your well-defined mandible.
It wasn’t your kind hands.
You must think I’m deranged. It wasn’t your presents, nor the fact that seeing you at a 20 metre distance makes my heart blissfully skip a beat like a Hickory Dickory Dock clock with one arm. This thing supersedes you every time we walk towards each other especially on those wet windy winter days in the park. It gives me a euphoric whiplash without fail before lifting me off my feet into your arms.
It’s not your name.
It’s not your edible nose.
It’s not your soothing voice.
It’s not your hair.
It’s not your comforting gaze.
Without this, our love is rendered scientifically obsolete. Partially.
Its…
Your Smell.
Way back when…
Feb 18th
The first sign of green grass and the first melody of birdsong never fail to push the minds buttons. Suddenly I’m time travelling through my memories. Sifting through randomly looking for you. I stop right at the moment you entered my life.
Seeing Red
Feb 17th
If everyone’s mind works in a different way, do you see that same way I see? Is the red that I see the same as what you see as blue? Or is everyone’s red the same as my red? Because then even though I’d see your red as my blue, your red has always been your red, so you wouldn’t know that I’d see it as blue. So when you say I’m seeing red, whose red am I seeing?
My PostSecret
Feb 17th
If you haven’t seen PostSecret, check it out here. Seeing people’s innermost secrets like that is really quite striking…
A Nomadic Toothfairy..
Feb 16th
Once upon a time there was a toothfairy called Mary, she had a cat called Hairy. He was 3″8 and only ate dairy. One day Mary was walking down the streets of Whirlpool, a village in Southern Japan when she bumped into a giraffe called Fishfingers. She was no fool, she knew she was cool. So she decided to embark on a journey.
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