Filed under: L.ove, Life's fragile recollections, Rhyme & Riddle | Tags: brain, feelings, life, operation, poem, recovery, reflections, rhyme, surgery, thoughts
A hot air balloon emerging from the mist,
Perhaps this is what reality looks like under all that morphine.
For months I’ve buried the stirrings of an emotional connect beneath the daily grind,
Only for a fatal incident to open my eyes to the love from friends and others close to my heart I nearly left behind,
Through morphine and painkillers those memories are fleeting, but real,
As they etched themselves into my heart to remember, to heal.
My friends, you came and chatted, how I hung on to those conversations,
They remind me of our shared laughter and enjoyable moments,
How we’ve grown and paved our path to future destinations;
These I’ve neglected, all in the name of blinded pursuits for success and accomplishments,
And to close a chapter on love and all other emotions.
The days at home can be long and empty,
Filled with images and thoughts but alas they are so damn flighty;
You came by and spent the hours with me when I’m stuck at home and my brain so laggy,
Not my best state, with the world through my eyes turning topsy-turvy.
Touched – I was, a quiet peace that accompanied your presence,
You saw my before and aftermath, never again;
Eight lives I’ve gambled, granted with one – to love, to cherish, to put a smile on others’ faces,
To tell the stories the world ought to hear, and know somewhere, somehow I’ve made a tiny difference.
Stay if you plan to stay, don’t come and go,
The body’s battered, there leaves only the soul.
The former I can play, the latter I keep within,
Bit by bit revealed, through encounters thick and thin.
The recovery path might have seemed easy and nice;
Masked through optimism, character and moments I fantasize;
There have been minutes of frustration, worry and agony,
The fear of losing myself – intelligence, pace and musicality,
The tremble in my veins, not seeing my past wordsmith and ideas surface…
The mind could draw a blank just like that,
I find myself searching my memory banks as though I’ve misplaced the catalogue for them,
Like a confused librarian who has nothing on her hand,
I leave my search to prayers and hope,
While I re-teach myself to think the way I did again.
Filed under: Rhyme & Riddle, Two Cents' Worth | Tags: 2013, December, dreams, January, new year, resolution, wish
As the decadence of December unwraps its long bony fingers from my throat, I gasp – both from the release of its slow choking grip, and at the first inhalation of January’s crisp (and if I must say, jarring) bitter winds of change.
What a year it has been, and what a ride it seemed. One thing for sure, my brakes certainly weren’t working in 2012.
As the devil on my right shoulder would have it, enough of the year already. His pointed ears and arrow-tipped tail would already be dishing me my next glass of whisky and pulling me to bed to busk in his glory. For each time a person on the surface of this earth makes a new year resolution, it is the devil’s job to have them break it: a symbol of his victory.
So I’ll play the fiddle that strokes his enlarging ego, I’ll jump onto the derailed train that moves at a speed that pleases him;
I’ll whirl around the carousel of champagne, whisky and wine, while he thinks – this lady in cloud nine, ain’t she divine?
So I seize the devil by his horns, you think of me: your puppet, and you: my master of indulgence – right and wrong;
I laugh the devil’s laugh as I ride into the sun, his cries of anguish and frustration rise a note with each gallop and bound;
I tease him with his pitch fork as I would tantalize my lover with charm, not the devil’s, not the devil’s charm;
I let the devil sit on my shoulder, if he whispers, I listen, alas my attention long gone.
I clutch at my throat, feeling the indents of December’s cold grip. January comes billowing in like Santa’s sleigh up my driveway, with its promises and hopes that the year could bring. Surely, spring would warm my soul and ease away those tendrils of pain. Then summer could set ablaze dreams to plans, turning amber to flames – of fulfillment that tastes so sweet.
Filed under: Rhyme & Riddle, Two Cents' Worth | Tags: cruising, cycling, motorbike, poem, rhyme, riding
Close the tab, let’s go ridin’
Down the highway we are cruising.
Tonight the wind’s in my hair
Playing, teasing without any care
I close my eyes and feel like I’m up in the air
Let my mind go, wandering, the rest of the world can stare.
Too much acting
Screw the crowd, let’s go ridin’
Into the rising sun we go cruisin’.
The morning chill creeps up without knowing
Caressing, stroking like a lover anticipating
The sun god descends like warm breath on my skin
Smoothing goosebumps and dispelling tingles I’m washed from sin
Then the wind comes playin’ with my hair
Teasing, tangling without any care
This isn’t a time to stop and stare
But perhaps, steal a second, to have my soul shone bare.
Filed under: L.ove, Rhyme & Riddle | Tags: Love, quote, relationships, romance
I read an excerpt today, and it struck a chord within me.
“Every day and night I want to see you and be with you. Yet I have no feeling of selfish ownership or jealousy,” he writes in one undated letter.
“Let’s go for a long ride Sunday; let’s go to the mountains weekends; let’s read books in front of fires; most of all, let’s really grow together and find the happiness we know is ours.”
I woke up next to you, the morning sun streaming in
Us huddled beneath the covers, toes and fingers entwining
Would this be the future, or a moment fleeting
Perhaps…likely…”I will consider”…baby don’t leave me hanging
Sleep in your eyes, a hint of a smile
Relaxed, at peace, come honey, just a little while
Why do I keep guessing what you are doing,
Why do I keep seeking what you are hiding?
Why do I read you like I read Twitter,
Like a stranger that knows you not any better?
Through love and confidence I skip through the days
While at the bottom of my heart I feel, come what may.
It sucks, it stings, it hurts like a bee got me
Yet it’s amazing, it’s crazy, it’s love (could it be?)
I miss, I crave, I soar on highs and fall into lows
I don’t settle, I thrive – on extremes of joy and sorrow.
Filed under: Rhyme & Riddle, Two Cents' Worth | Tags: new year, reflections, thoughts
6 months later, I’m back dusting off cobwebs off my blog.
6 months later, I’m home wiping off the dust that has settled on my shelves.
6 months later, I’m at another cross-junction
Reconsidering; thinking; weighing options; hesitating at the leap forward.
It is the new year, 12 years past the millenium. Every year is a reflection, of my achievements and my life’s milestones. Too often time has flown by without my knowledge, when I was too busy running the rat race to fully appreciate what I can offer to myself. Where’s the music, the prose, the words that spin the yarn of life? Where’s my time, my soul, my hideout where inspiration flows?
So what’s 2012? A planned year, a charted path. An unexplored territory within the depths of my heart. The usual routine, challenges and hurdles, some wonderful memories, some painful ones. A dive into cold spring waters, penning my own chapter, riding my own wave.
Lost in the storm of words,
The screaming wind I hardly heard
Trashing, tossing, crumbling within
My calm demeanor, a mere front I spin.
The seasons have changed, the clock hands whirl
Towards the future, our lives they constantly swirl
We take in the beauty, the euphoria of our current state
Lost in the whirlwind of new, fresh and exciting of late.
The torrent of tears, they runneth over
Unleashing the fury, frustration – better take cover
Anguish grips and clenches its angry knuckle
I wince for your pain, while I choke up a chuckle.
On bended knees, a prayer whispered
Dear God, of inner strength and peace
Of loving nearness, of continued faith
The miracle of healing in Jesus name.