The humidity covers the many layers of you with dew, for you thrive like a succulent in the wet.
I expand and contract by the rise and fall of the seasons. During the humidity, I expand; in cold weather, I contract.
You thrive, and I contract today; It’s your heaven and my hell.
Then, as if the sky knows who I am, the clouds break, and the cool rain falls onto our skin.
Category: Poetry
Vintage Flowers
The sun feels warm,
yet the breeze tells
a different story.
Days where even the
flowers seem to have
gone vintage takes
me back to childhood
moments in the ’80s.
The carefree moments
when I did not think
about the good times
coming to an end.
Days like those were
carefree, but I must
say, looking back, that
those days felt sad too.
The Bossy One
Spring arrived, yet the cold eats
into my flesh and bones to make
my hands and feet feel numb.
Winter has not done her duty yet,
for she wishes to hang on and
feel the way she makes us feel.
Spring keeps scolding Winter
for being bossy,
yet we know Winter is like an
an older sister who loves the
younger one so,
and cannot let go.
Spring arrived, yet I am glad
Winter is near,
for I do love her
and
the way she makes me feel.
Ourselves
A crisp lightness fills the spaces and brings a glimpse of spring to the winter day. I have nothing but you and my pain, which starts my mind racing.
A flimsy love between two independent souls both long for the rain to wash their sadness away; Two souls haunted by their fear of failure, not being the favoured child, and living with their desire for perfection.
If we didn’t need money in this capitalistic hell, we would be free to be ourselves.
I’m on the train now going to ruin my life again, but I have you through the ages: you and me against the world, ready to live once again.
Spaceship Washer
You were never one to clean your shower regularly. The towels piled up and the washers too, yet you only washed weekly; sometimes not at all.
There was a washer you kept forgetting to pick up. Perhaps it was because the washer was so small and insignificant to you, as you kept piling towels, underwear, and clothes on top of your hardened washer.
One night, you heard a noise coming from the bathroom. “What the hell! Is this a dream, or is the house alive and talking to me?“
You stand up straight and turn on the light; the buzzing continues.
“Where are you buzzing? Are you a bee or a monster from the tip?“
A noise comes from the bathroom. You hesitate before entering. Thoughts of strange monsters, lizards, and giant spiders terrorise your thoughts.
You walk through the bathroom door, turn on the light, and you are baffled by what you see; your crusty washer is alive and floats before your eyes. No longer just a washer, it hovers like a spaceship; It’s buzzing, and it wants to leave your house immediately.
Baffled, you run outside. As you run, the washer follows, and terror takes hold of your heart. Once out in the still night, you turn and see the washer flying away. There is no stopping your washer, as it takes off at light speed.
Standing alone and semi-naked, you stare into space, then think, “My washer lived, and now it’s gone. Is it because of neglect?“
Contemplating the situation, you go inside, pour a drink, and ponder life’s recent events. You whisper to yourself, “I’ll never neglect my washers now nor ever again.“
From that day forth, your clothes are always washed and clean, and nothing remains on the floor, for you never know where neglect may lead you again.
Fiery Depths
The key to the door hides within your depths.
You swear those fiery depths hold nothing; however, he knows the truth.
He ventured there once, found the key, and stormed through the door.
He opened your soul to the four winds, to love.
Those words
Sorrow fills the air as you juggle the pots and pans of despair.
Cobwebs fill your mind, and the mood is sombre.
In amongst all the banging and clanging, you hear those words again.
“There’s no ice cream in the freezer“.
Household Woes
Ironing boards,
clotheslines,
and
the
perfection of
horizontal
lounge chair
Enthusiasts.
Peppermint Fudge
Fresh mint from a pot so old,
you hold as you think of her touch.
Fruity flesh of her pockets and holes
flare images in your mind.
Mesh your heart to hers in a love knot,
as you nibble on peppermint fudge.
Duchess Draw
Once polished weekly
with love and devotion,
I return to the
silky oak duchess.
In an old draw,
I found bits of jewellery and
pictures of us as kids.
Memories soaked
into the wood,
remind me of how
much I miss you.
C & K 