Tuesday, April 25, 2006

ode to sleep

And slowly I begin to smell of exhaustion, a bittersweet acrid odour redolent of sweat and dried coffee. The curls are damp on my head, soft hints of feather pillows. Then the bleary, burning eyes seem as much a part of me as the aching head and there’s a tightness across the back of my spine like stretched rubber. My head is a weary mass of thoughts that jumble together in little clumps and snarls and poetically unravel themselves into sweet ideas that slip away in airy swirls. Every movement is adagio, and the achey strains of Nick Drake and Fiona Apple woo me until I can see my bed again.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

little things

He held out his arms, and she slipped into them like a wraith; silk over marble, satin over stone.

Then he tilted up her chin and kissed her, and she thought of how he tasted like coffee and bitter chocolate.

And when she rested her head on his chest and heard his heart beat, and felt his hand at the base of her spine, she felt the tears start to her eyes; and suddenly she was absurdly, utterly happy.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

six degrees

Then I stop, and suddenly
I'm thinking about it again
Catches me unawares as always
clenching of the stomach, constriction of my chest
I can think dispassionately
if I think deliberately
but this catching round corners really gets my goat
what gives one such power over me
that every association leads back to one
stupid question
No one gives anyone power over yourself but you

Saturday, April 8, 2006

unarchives again

(Mar 16 2006 Thursday)


No one's infallible, me more than most
Yet incompetence makes me cringe
as does inefficiency
But I'm nothing if not fair
no, really
I can say nothing unless
I can say with perfect honesty
that I have done what had to be done
Hypocrisy is no god of mine

Admiration is sweet
whatever form it takes

stupid old man
You play dirty and get personal
That's not very well-bred of you
chauvinist and bigot
Narrow-minded stubborn stuck-in-the-mud
old man
Can you not see anyone else's point of view
for once
Can you not give credit where due
avoid taking it all for yourself
a single time
Respecting others is not a crime, nor a disease
The things you say are not funny
All they serve to do
is to demolish, bit by bit,
the last vestiges of any modicum of respect
I may have had
for you

Friday, April 7, 2006

questions from the unarchives

(Mar 08 2006 Wednesday)

How powerful is shame
It can take the strongest of us
make them cringe
Guilt is a hard mistress

And sometimes I forget
to remind myself
to smile

And once more I try
shy and demure
hesitant lest I say
more than I would say, more than others would hear
Gingerly step forth
with the yearning for acceptance
that it seems I will never lose
And when overture is repulsed less than vigourously
up rears the hesitant head
bolder and bolder
till, alas, again, once more
I go too far
I see it. stop
Once bitten, twice shy
Did I not hear the day it was taught?

Is it too much to ask, then,
a friendship based on
Just two kindred spirits
who take pleasure in company
Why must it always be
a business, a team, a permanent
never to be tampered with?
Why pigeonhole
a human
harsh cruel stupid stupid stupid
I cannot be only one
I am many and varied and divers
I will not have a cage
And hence, I will be, as always, lone

Why must I be
hero worshipper
when there is never the slightest
hint of encouragement
Why always need one to put up
on a pedestal
to validate me
unworthy, both of us, to the posts I would endow
Where is the honour
in fawning worship
Why reach out only to be spurned
Why can I not see myself independent, only alone
Why shun those who would befriend
Glutton for punishment
Never imagined I was stupid
Yet how dense must you be never to learn from your mistakes
Recurring themes are a drag, still you insist
on finding out that it is true
that fire burns every time

Why must there always be
a hundred facets of me
and no one to see them all, to love me for me
not even I
Myriad moods, one for each, turn and turn alike
Oh, it's fun, never fear
Still it grates
Cannot always suit myself to what another
can understand and relate to
Do I unnecessarily complicate
what is simple, straightforward
cannot help being
what keeps others happy
I like making others happy
Is that a crime
So hard to know what I really want
Easier to live vicariously
Safe as always