Wild Opals

I saw you

Above the tiles that promised to keep out the rain

Your eyes were opal, that’s how I remembered them

And the sun was always setting but your hair was more golden than the light

I sat crossed legged

Like a child waiting to hear a fairytale

Your nails were short

But not bitten, you had been working on the land

And your fingers were stained by the soil

Or the cigarettes you used to smoke

You told me smoking was bad for your health

I assumed you stopped, you never told me you had

And we were there

Saying very little to each other but then we never did speak much

My joints loosened as you spoke and your rhythm pulsed within me

Your voice

Still, those whispers caught in the tide

Are your way

Go North you told me

Catch the red berries

Place them on the ground around your shivering body

Breathe into your cold palms

And let your warmth remind you

That you are enough

I called you a witch

Because I couldn’t pen you down

You were defiant against description

Beyond the madness of sanity

I was haunted by you

And as I prayed to understand you

Your craft I wished to home

I was gifted with an empty note

And a furious breeze

That beckoned towards the northern sea

Keep moving, I hear

Don’t stiffen with the wanting

As then you’d be like those

And I, I hear

Have become, already.

Mama J

 

Said Mama J

The other day

‘Don’t fret cos the moon got your back’

My response was ‘WOW

please tell me how

you know such a comforting fact?’

She replied ‘I know

As the thoughts I sow

Show up in the weirdest way

And the stars tell me this

You must follow your bliss

Then love you once lost will stay.’

So I tried it one night

When the moon was bright

But I couldn’t think what to say

So I gave up trying

Then words came flying

‘Thank you for sending me Mama J’

Hazy

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My reality changed the day I decided it was one I’d manufactured myself.

Reality, I decided, is no longer seen truths or spoken absolutes.

See, the colours I notice are dependent on how bright the light and the brightness of light is dependent on far how I step into the dark. What a revelation! To know that depth of feeling is mirrored, no matter the direction. Walk away from your reflection and your reflection walks the precise distance away from you.

This is good news, right? In that case I have such joy and immeasurable pleasures awaiting me just after I prise my face off the hard concrete following a monumentally shit meltdown. I’m certainly familiar with meltdowns.

The hard task for me, where the problem resides is the hazy light that festers in-between, as that is where I seem to have aligned most of my deliberations.

The expectation of hazy smog has become routine, hazy light is safe, like the light you would allow into a room full of antiques, knowing little would threaten the ageing wood. A room where I can see the dust settle and although I know it’s there, I’ve become accustom to the feeling of ignorance towards the unseen. What is beyond my vision is beyond importance.

So I feel secure as I sit in this half lit room where blurred lines of polarities skim worn cushions and tacky ornaments that remind me of times gone by.

‘Oh how I wish those days were now’

Musty layers coat memories and I take comfort in the undisturbed and the scent of stagnant aromas, which are familiar to me. To invest only on the flip side of understanding, this kind of sheltered existence beckons all efforts and focus. Hazy understandings, I have dwelt over and over in places I know too well.

But then I get bored of hazy days. My throat begins to swell and words and beliefs that held such weight and conviction lose their importance. They cause obstructions as they wedge between coarse, tired vocal chords, fed up with the bullshit I’ve expelled over the years.

But it’s not bullshit, I remind myself as I can only match the light that I see.

Then I notice the air thicken and my persistent cough. I’d missed how sick I felt as the hazy light masked toxic pieces of hopes and wants and maybes. I blow the dust from my belongings and the debris stings my eyes. The room smells worse than it did before I meddled but I can’t stop now as I’ve stirred clear the murky glaze and Im fascinated.

Then I think about how hazy rays of dawn and dusk settle discoveries unearthed by the light of the moon and midday heat. And I want to be a part of that cycle and I want to discover more. I want to feel the afternoon heat and hear the call to hibernate as the sun goes down.

So that was the day I changed my reality and adjusted the light. I decided it was time to dissipate my fear of discolouring all that already exists. I opened the curtains and within a second, hazy turned to bright and crisp lines defined the darkness. It all became that little bit clearer, just a little bit that was enough, for now.

Explore

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When people ask me

What have you been doing for the past few years?

I say

I’ve been exploring

They say

Oh how exciting, where have you been?

I say

I’ve been exploring the universe

They say

Wow, do you work for NASA?

I say

No!

They say

So how did you explore the universe?

I say

I slowed down enough to stop moving

They say

How can you explore the universe if you’re not in the universe?

I say

I don’t need to be in the universe, the universe is in me.

Texas Monologues – Part 1

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Sunday

You left on a Sunday

You walked out the door of the B&B on a Sunday morning heading back across the pond.

We’d been in Texas for over a week

The holiday wasn’t over for me and according to our plane tickets and the calendar on my iPhone, we had another week left.

I begged for you to stay

Not because I wanted you

At this point I don’t even think I liked you

I wanted to feel suffocated by your apologies, not premature goodbyes

Is anything ever premature?

It happens when it happens

When its time, its time

Anyway, that’s a whole separate mind fuck

“Get it together”

You said

“You always get what you want. I’m not pandering to your tears”

No shit Sherlock

And fuck you!

You were leaving me

In the middle of our holiday

And taking the car

In rural Texas

Great

And could you have left after I’d put some clothes on?

Au revoir naked I’ll-delete-your-number-later lady

Why do we feel most vulnerable when we’re naked?

Skin is our most permanent accessory.

You never shied away from telling me I had soft skin

And then you go and grate chucks from me with your corrugated intentions

Had I chosen to ignore this newly apparent drill sergeant you were so capable of imitating?

To answer my own question, yes I had.

It wasn’t newly apparent at all

You’d not changed since the day we met

See, you were a being that I’d never known the likes of before

My lust for you was driven by curiosity

Nothing more

What can I say?

I’m springtime heat

Forcing new buds to blossom

That’s me

And you played the game

You said I was medicine

Your bottle of pop carbonating flattened enthusiasms

Well I’ve got news Mr

I’m done being consumed

I’m no longer the syrup to coat your wounded memories

So

Me

On a Sunday

Naked

You leaving

A shaken bottle of fizzy gonna spray

Burst even

Was this intentional?

I have been blind to this malicious act

Blind!

Shit

Who am I kidding?

No I wasn’t

I knew

And you weren’t malicious, you were just afraid of a life already lived

And shit, what a life you’d led

My role as victim was convincing

And maybe I’d chosen the scariest looking ride

Because I collect thrilling stories to retell

Proof, of something

So

You leaving

Best damn decision ever made

Thank you, from the bottom of my explosive heart

It was because of you that I jumped out of my comfort pot and stayed, alone

And met new people

Tremendous people

And I was properly introduced to the woman I am

Yes, I am thrilling

Without the help of fairground rides

I’ve got more stories

But not to prove anything

So Thank you

 

This note ends here but my stories don’t

I’ll continue to tell them

Just not to you.

 

 

Noticing me

Did you notice me

When I walked in wearing an oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans – I just didn’t give two craps this morning. Wild gonna shine anyway and this fierce mane, plaited, tamed, will unravel come sundown ready for moonlit serenades and ritual explorations. You just wait.

Did you notice me

When I ordered an orange juice and swallowed two round pills for an ache that just ain’t ceasing. A problem I’ll never ask you to solve, a problem not even a problem but living in a square world gonna trip up any woman thinking in circles.

Did you notice me

When I sat and pulled out my notebook and pen to scribble. Scribbling scribbles I do pretty well, you wanna read my stuff? No problem, I’ll firm my wrist to smooth crinkled words, readable, for you. Staining pages ain’t always easy, and reading forced sentiment even harder. Been easy to hide behind confusions, until now.

Pen don’t work

Did you notice me

When I asked to borrow a pen? You smiled and said, “I don’t carry ink” … well I don’t blame you; it’s a futile habit. Language lost in those dimples anyway.

Did you notice me

Staring at the stars reflected in your brand new shoes. I ain’t never seen shoes so shiny, well if I have I don’t remember ‘um like I remember yours. A whole universe bows at your feet, including the asteroid belts restricting my view.

Did you notice me

Inviting ghosts, those left behind. Echoes often ignored weave their way home. They say you loose yourself in moments like these but shared glances raised forgotten cities.

I noticed you

An enchanting exhibition, pencil lines of perfection – damn, there’s artistry in those genes. Turquoise spells would bestow our children, if I wanted children, which I don’t but we’ll talk about that as we explore rivers and spirited mountains, together.

Did you notice me

Planning eternity within the pause of a breath. No need for marriage, contracts are for bricks and mortar. Our love coasts the summer breeze, comforting, dwelling upon warm sands. As clouds morph through the sunset, our love grows. Crescendos ain’t a necessity; I’ve dived into violent waters before.

Did you notice me

Playing calm, not wanting to draw too much attention, obviously my purr was too faint. You didn’t notice me, footsteps you’ll forget and shiny shoes heading someplace new. You left with no precious exchanges, carrying nothing of me as I inscribe the entire fucking manuscript of you. Beginning, middle.

End.

 

Funny Story

 

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Friends always say

“You’re so funny

Random shit always happens to you”

You want a story?

I’m your gal

God forbid you ever think me boring!

I go out

Get drunk on pink wine

To meet a guy who has his own story

I meet one

He does some job

Someplace

Somewhere

I don’t fancy him but he has nice shoes

He fancies me

I think

Story begins

We get drunk

He invites me back to his

We drink whiskey

I hate whiskey

But I drink it anyway

I’m more obnoxious when I’m drunk

I think

And flirt harder

I need to pee

I come back

He’s naked

I shut down

 

It wasn’t the worst

It wasn’t the best either

He shows me pictures of his kids

Tells me he misses them

And her

I should care

I don’t

We fall asleep

I wake up at 4am disorientated

Where the fuck am I?

He drapes over me

I want to leave

But I don’t

I push him off me

I fall asleep

Wake up at 6am

Hangover from hell

He pretends to like my morning hair

I pretend I fancy him

He takes ages in the loo

 

I hold mine in

Coffee makes it worse

I say goodbye

Twenty minute walk home in heels

My pants are crusty

No big deal

I vomit behind the bins outside McDonalds

I laugh at myself

Funny

I get home

Go to the loo

I take a bath because I feel disgusting

I wash my face

I cry

I can’t remember his name

And did we use protection?

I put on a baggy t-shirt and leggings

I watch TV

All day

And eat a whole packet of kettle chips

The big packet

Ready salted

And oven chips

I pick my fingernails because I’m so pissed at myself for eating a whole packet of crisps

I call a friend

“What a night!

You’re never gonna guess what happened?

It was so fucking funny”.