|
Far Reaching Speckles
Not a moment too soon came the speckled giraffe. It arrived in
a big blue triangle padded with fur taken from the Great Dish of Natural Moon. It flew twice around the world before a most
helpful dragonfly gave it a map. The pigeons...well, they were known for either giving wrong directions or pooping on heads.
Quite frankly, the giraffe was thankful that the latter had not happened. It simply could not have reached to clean it away
fot it's spindly pink legs could not yet bend inside out. This was only a feature of the dappled giraffe. It wondered briefly
what exactly those little knobbly bits on top if it's head were for. It had seen them along the way reflected in the beak
of an owl. Perhaps they helped squeeze oranges, or peel grapes...
Jolted out if it's musings by a rather shrill sounding
monkey, the giraffe looked around. There were marshamallows as far as his left eye could see and pencil shavings to the right.
It began to wonder if he would get stuck in the white marshmallows or if there was hot chocolate underneath this layer and
perhaps he would drown. It didn't know which option was better. Perhaps this was where they made chocolate coated giraffes?
It felt his thin legs begin to quiver.
Just as it was about to dive right back into the blue triangle a tiny bee buzzed
up to it and whispered, "Do you have the time?"
It remembered the jug that had ridden all that way with it and excitedly
yelped, "Yes! Yes!"
Spilling the contents of the jug onto the pencil shavings, it danced about on merry little hooves
and kissed all the turtles that had gathered.
It's like a feather that makes you squinkle up your eyes and the
nose twitch as it flirts with tickles. A tiny fly magnified in a raindrop and a leaf that falls on a puppy's head. A kitten
swiping it's paw at the string and falling over backwards. And the sun warming the grass.
Aside from a long forgotten memory of warm sand and melting
ice cream, all that remained were two old coins and a shell necklace. A hazy memory of sandcastles built only to be knocked
down. Somewhat like dreams. A huge, blank canvass with so much potential. Intricate designs, turrets and moats, windows gently
moulded for the princess to gaze out of dreamily. How little we knew then that even a princess' dreams amount to nothing.
A misplaced footstep, a bounding dog, the waves...even our own playfulness and youthful neglect. The next day would dawn and
with it came new dreams and castles. Perhaps we used our quota all those years ago and the waves on that balmy night took
our final dream.
There was once a bus that lived on the moon. Inside it
was full of kettle mechanism. All ready for the mutant giraffe leaves to come and kiss them goodnight and wave a pretty vegetable
at their ears.
Parachute
Silence washed over the abandoned scandal left scarcely breathing
by the side of Friday's clear litre bottle. Clarity had yet to be found among empty boxes ripped to pieces. Scattered solutions
and yet another mishap pushed aside. Tears lay just to the side of amazement and wonder. Simplicity at it's best drenched
in fear and despair. The sheer capacity for misunderstandings and outspokeness was seen in mirror-lined walls. Casting a glance
towards the edge were those whispered secrets never to be repeated outside of these four tunnels. Elevated to taboo status
mirages drifted in and out of sight until three thousand seconds became one. Became. Became the only one. Soaked in truth;
steadied by your guiding touch.
I recently remembered Scuba Mouse and Flipper Bee. It seems
that they have been sleeping on deckchairs in the depths of my brain. They are about four years older and not all that much
wiser. They followed the cheese triangles home and made a nest out of twelve sticks, three leaves and a handful of potato
peelings. There is a naked potato running around somewhere. It seems quite cruel to make potatoes undress before we throw
them into boiling water. No dignity to the death at all. It isn't surprising they sulk and act all childish and try to jump
onto the floor and hide under the fridge. Carrots too, are stripped before being nibbled. But I think they quite like that.
They are extroverts on the whole and much prefer to be naked. Flipper Bee has found them doing a striptease for the onion
before now when they thought noone would come in. All in the dark too, which makes no sense since they are the only ones that
can see in the dark. The onion cried when I took it's coat off. I was only being kind. I thought it was too warm...And the
brocolli? Well, I think it ate too many crusts in it's childhood, for now it's hair is all curly. It doesn't like that, but
I try to reassure it that it looks so pretty and that it helps it to stand out from the crowd. The brocolli really has low
self-esteem. I urge you to tell your brocolli how beautiful it really is...inside and out.
In the moonlight, late on the sixth night, a melancholy
meercat made a discovery. He was most excited and started to meer as meercats do. He would save the catting for later. He
had to really, for it was punishable by bath on the sixth night. And the night that followed was to be the postponed twentyeighth
that had to be passed over when the mountains threw snow down. He meered a little longer and stopped only when the bandana
slid down over his eyes and he could no longer see what he was meering at. That night, he became a cheery meercat. He had,
at last, found his spiral.
I wished upon a star and when I opened my hand I felt your eyes peeking at me.
They were smiling gently and just waiting for the sign. I wanted to reach out and touch them but I melted into them before
my fingers could get there. I stayed mesmerised for hours, maybe even days, barely daring to breathe or make a sound. Any
sudden movement would have had you running into the cold, dark night like a tiny mouse about to drink in the morning sun.
My train of unthought captured those moments and imprinted them firmly in my heart to be taken out and reminsced over when
the leaves fell. Those leaves were beautiful reds and oranges. Even the dimmest of brown seemed to come back to life. And
as sleep fell like a magical cloud over our hopelessly romantic moon-raked night, I saw your smile mirrored in the lake.
I want to play this game. I have some time. May I play? I will just
play. This is a fun game. My day was ok. How was the one for you? It is cold. I am cold. Are you cold? We can both be cold,
yes? Or we can both be warm. Warm is good. Warm is nice. I like warm. When it is cold I feel all mean. Like an old man. But
I am not a man. I am a girl. An old girl one may say. Many say an odd girl and that is ok too. Odd is good. Odd is fun. Odd
will make me who I long to be. So, let me see. I need food. May I have some rice? I must have rice or I will fall over. If
I fall over I may be hurt. Do you want that? I dont. Not now. Now is not the time. Is the hour of five a good time for this?
It has gone. The hour will soon be ten plus one. My home does not like time. Time runs away. It does not run with me, it runs
with the wind. Like the wind. Is it the wind? In the wind? On the wind? With the wind? The wind will blow. I am sure of this.
It will blow and blow and blow and the tree will sway, a leaf will fall into my lap. Can I sit on your lap it will say. you
can sit on mine if you so wish. I have lost my plot, my mind. It too ran away. Time and mind like to play in the park. The
park is near. We can go to the park if you like. At the park we will see fish, a duck, a tree, a leaf, a hare and even a rose.
And we will see a path. We will walk on the path. The rose will be red or pink. I am not sure. We will pass by kids with mum
and dad, a dog out for a walk in the sun. A bird too will fly past and flap its left wing at you.
It has been some
time that I have been away from this game. I am here now. I have time now. I cant post now but I can type and see what word
will be my chum. The sky spat on me this noon. A few tiny and cold bits of ice. Will it melt soon? I have to ask for if it
is no, then this blue one will feel a tad not glad. It may look nice but to walk to town in it will not be good for my feet
or my ears. I have a hat. It is not pink. It is in fact, blue. The item I will tie in the neck area is red. It is warm. It
did not cost very much. I was not sad to part with cash for it. The man who sold it to me was nice. I felt pity for him too
for he sat in the cold and rain with not one pal to talk with. And I was not much help for I cant talk the way he does and
he cant talk like I do. I gave him yuan and he gave me the red item. My shoe has a mate. They are two. The same. A twin pair.
They are like grey but more than that. They do not like my feet. They give me pain in the heel area. But they do not leak
like the old ones. This blue one does not like a wet sock or foot. Even so, they do not like to walk in the snow. I want to
save but I feel if the snow has not gone next noon I will give some cash to a taxi man who will take me to you so I can post
this and have a chat. Chat, chat, chat ,chat ,chat ,chat.
My lion did not roar when I saw him. I hope he is not ill.
He may be? He may have a cold. He used to roar each day at five, six and ten. It was his wake up call. And his bed call. It
did not irk me one bit, it made me glad to hear him. He is my pal. I can talk to him, I can hug him at any time. But now,
he will not make the roar. Not a peep out of him. Do you know if he is ok? Do you know who can tell me if he is well? Do you
know what to do if he is sick? Who to see? What to tell them? A vet is not here and he/she may grin at the look of a toy lion
in my arms when I ask for help. Nuts she/he will say. You, yes you, are nuts. That is a toy. I cant help you. Go away.. and
that is mean, yes? My lion must seek help too. I must seek help for him. One day he will roar and give me his paw to hold
like I used to. Do you know if it was me? Did I say a bad word or four to him? Did I give him too much beer? It was the eve
of the new year and he did ask for a cup of beer. It was not much. Just a sip or two. I am a bad mum?
Even if not
bad, I am pale. Look I can type pale the way that is good now. I can see how plae I am when I look over the sink in my home.
I need some sun. much sun. I am sick of cold and pale. I want warm and tan but I only go red in the sun. but no more will
my imp tell me I need to eat. I ate at six. It was not bad but not good. It was warm, it made me very full. I must lie down
but not now. I lay down at four and just fell into the land of nod when I had to wake up. Two that I live with were loud.
Too loud. I want to tell them off but they do not care how I feel on this. I want to live on my own if I cant live with one
that will be easy to live with. One that will care and give me a kiss on my head when it hurts and wrap me in hugs. That is
you, isnt it?
Now, I must tell you this game is hard. Not too hard but more hard than I had in my mind. It must be
long too. I want to win but you will hate me if I beat you? It is your game and you want to win. I am a new one who did not
ask if she was able to play but just got busy and here is her post now full of crap. What is it I must beat? I do not know
now. I will keep on and on and if I have more than you for the next day then that is good and if not I can go home with a
tail that will not wag. I go now for a pill to stop the ache in the head and to find a cup of tea. Tea from this land I live
in. here I can find many teas. Do you want some? I did not get tea. I went to the room of the girl next door and we had a
chat. It was nice. Her room has more heat than mine ever will. I was to buy a make room warm item but it was too much. For
me it was too much for like said, I will save. Only two days so far to save and it goes well so far. Will I last a week? I
am at the half way mark of how long I want this to be. It is not late yet. But I can hear my bed call me back. It gets sad
when I am not with it. As do I, when it cant be with me. But not yet! I must wait. It must wait. We must not give in. we must
type, type, type as fast as we can.
I can hear the red hot ones sing to me. They like to sing. Not too loud for we
have the girl and boy in the room down low and the girl next to me. I want to be kind all the time. I can be kind. They may
not know if I am kind or not but I will be. I must save my work now for fear of its loss due to this land and its hate for
me and all that is mine. It is done. Now I am able to talk more. I dont seem to say much when I am here. Here as in the post,
not this one but ones that went long ago, oh I cant say what I want to but I hope you know what I mean. Or you know my mean
as they say to me here in this far away land of tea. I will stop once more for a time for I am not able to make my head work.
Now
it is Nora who will sing to me and if you add an h you will know her name as it says on her cd. I like Nora with an h. She
is calm and her song is very nice.
I am not one who can like the game of the ball of the foot. Oh no! My foot! It
got wet. I went to the room with the bath but we have no bath just a sink but the tile was wet and I did not know. My toes
are not dry and they want to be. I dont like toes or feet. Only paws. I wish I had paws or a hoof. The hoof of a goat is cute.
It is now the year of the goat, by the way. Did you know? Did you want to know? Do you even care? 1777, oh my. How long this
goes on. How will I cope? Will stay up til the wee hour of dawn to do this? Dawn was red and pink this a.m. I saw it. Why
, you may ask? No why is what I am told by the kids I see at my job. It was not up to me. It was my job that made me exit
my home at such an hour. Into a car we got and set off 15 mins late. For 15 mins we were to stay by the gate and look at no
one, see the sky and feel the cold. It rang once more! So many to call at such a late time. For me? One was for me.
An old pal. He is not old but I have been his pal for a year or two. We said hi and how are you. He will come to see me in
ten days. He is from a town not too far from here. I have a new home this year, you see. I have had many new homes the in
the past. I can pack my bags well now. A peek out of my door and I see that the snow will not stop just yet. But a peek at
my room and I see a mess. I must tidy. Now? If not now, then when? I may read a book and then get to the tidy part. My head
must be tidy too. A tidy room can mean a tidy head or is it a tidy head can make a tidy room..I have seen a sock by my bed.
How did it get all the way from the bag to the bed? Did it walk? It is the wet one. I want it to dry soon.
Will you
go out on a date with me? It is odd. I dont know when my last date was. Not a real one. In my land we do not go out on a date.
Back to the book. Only a few have a page to read. I must have a slow pace. To run out of a book is bad and one cant get more.
I like to read in bed. I bet you do too. All warm and snug with a book and a cup of wine and a tune to hear. Next to the fire
if I had one. I had a poem once with only the word of four. I may find it for you. One of you has seen it but I know that
Nuey has not. She will like it, yes? She will tell me if it is of her kind or no. she may not read this. Hmmm. We will see.
We WILL, I tell you. I tell you both. I tell you all. All two who are to read this .But what if you dont have the time to
read? Or what if you dont want to? Well, it has kept me busy and that is good.
The girl next door is lazy. It rang
and she told me to get it and then when it was for her to take it to her room. I had to go out in the cold. It is cold here
too but it is more cold with the door open. With the snow she will not go to her job. She has the luck I feel. A day off and
no work to do. I too have the day off but that was my in the plan. No plan and I would not know what to do.
My news
it came to an end. I have some time to go yet.
Ho hum. What now? a song? Will I sing to you? No, I will not. Must not for
it will make you run a way and your ear burn and yell. Yet, I want to. To know that I am here. In my room, on my own but with
a song that you will hear. My cup ran dry a long time ago. The room to fill my cup is not far but I am lazy. I will wait.
I can wait til I am too dry to wait any more. It will not be a long time I feel. Oft I feel that I will not be warm once more
in time. I know that I will be in June but June is far away to me now. In July I will be even more warm but I am not sure
in what land I will be. I must stay in one land soon. For my head to feel at home it is best. I will now sing to you. A tiny
song. I will hum my song. It will not hurt your ears so much that way. But dont look at me for I will turn red and may even
cry. I am shy, you know. Are you shy too? We can all be shy. If we are, how will we talk? Will we talk at all? Or will we
just type? Will we have a note pad with us at all times? And a pen? A blue pen. We can talk that way I am sure. Like a deaf
mute with only one leg. Or two legs if that is what you want. One leg will be odd. One cant walk. I like to walk. But I dont
like to walk up a big hill. I will take a walk soon. Only to that room so I can fill my cup. My cup will sob if I do not fill
it. I will turn the tap and fill the pan, turn the gas on and boil it. I will put a bag of tea in the cup and then pour the
H2O over it. My cup will be full and it will not weep. It is a baby cup. I am to wait til it can grow into a big cup. Then
it will not dry so fast. Its name is Lola. I will call it not it but she from now on. She is a good cup. I will take her with
me when it is time to pack my bags.
It has been hard for me to not say the L word. Not love. I can say love. I can
say I love you. I can say I love Lola. I love my dog and I love cats. I want a cat of my own to love. The R, I love too. I
hope the R can say I love you to me also. I love the L word I cant say. They are so cute. They may spit and hiss but I do
that too at a time that may call for it. Such is life. I will wait to say it. I had a word to use just now but it flew away.
Come back, fair word! I need you! I hope you will give me a tale of Leap soon. He can make me grin like a fool. I am fool.
But do come to home for tea. At four we will have cake and your cup will be full. I will read to you and we will make a fire
and sit next to it on a rug made of soft wool.
I have done as much as I want to.. I will rest. I will see you and your
post in the new day. My eyes will shutnow. oh wait! Do I need to be even? Not odd. Even to a 100? I will be. One word more.
Now.
Bye bye
Now?
 
A blend of sobriety and calculation allowed for a brief
interlude between insanity and a handful of stained papers. Stumbling across the room she was reminded of a movie she had
seen. She tried to remember when. It wasn't that long ago, surely? The effort of thought made her head yelp. The door was
nor far away. A few more steps and she would no longer feel as though she were making her way through a land mine field. She
was prone to exaggeration, a trait which had got her into trouble on more than one occasion. Cursing as her toes fell into
an ashtray, but missing the leftover pizza from three days ago, she looked around as she heard a sound. In the half light
of either early morning or early evening,she was unsure which, she peered towards the bed. She couldn't quite make out the
figure that lay tangled in sheets that had not only seen better days, but cleaner days. Who was he again? She closed her eyes
and tried to recall a name. How long had he been here? More to the point, how long did he intend to stay? She shook her head
and continued to pick her way through the debris lying on her once immaculate floor.
Curiosity almost got the better of her and she turned
around to try to take a peek at the figure lying in her bed but having made her way across the room, passing almost unscathed
around the obstacles, she was unwilling to go back and try to repeat the performance. Besides, she had more pressing matters
to attend to - bathroom matters. Out in the hallway of her tiny first floor flat she groped for the light switch. . "Let there
be light", ran through her mind. Her immediate thought after that one was, "dear god, no." Finding herself unable to coordinate
her fingers, she gave up with finding light figuring it would only serve to blind her anyway. Brightness she did not really
need after the night or was it nights she'd had. Her bladder gave her a gentle nudge reminding her why she had ventured out
of bed. Putting one foot forward she steadying herself with hands against the wall she jumped as something brushed against
her. "damn cat," she attempted to say but wasn't sure if anything came out. She certainly thought it anyway. A moment later
and she felt the cold of the tiles on her bare feet. "I'm getting too old for this," she muttered as she sat down.
Depression is possibly the worst illness anyone could face. Not
just depression itself but any mental illness. It's never ending. Or it feels that way. I often wish I had a terminal disease
instead. That's an awful thing to wish for, most might say, but for me it would be a blessing. To know that there would be
an end. An end that you didn't have to think about bringing to yourself. It would be an understood illness. Oh, maybe not
the why did this person/I have to get it? But understood in the way that you'd be allowed to feel shit, expected to feel shit.
Not expected to just think in a different way, have a more positive attitude...just to be happy because as far as most people
know you have nothing to be depressed about. But they don't get it do they? They can't accept that you don't actually want
to feel this way, that you would love to wake up in the morning and think, it's a great day, I'm happy to be here to see it!
And they don't buy the chemical imbalance thing...not my family. They are the type that say if you lost weight you'd be happy,
if you married this nice boy we have lined up for you, you'd be happy...and what they mean is, that if I do exactly as they
want I'll be happy because they know best and they don't believe in all these new fangled illnesses...
And maybe it
is all just in my head.
It was time. Time to
leave the bright lights and crowded aisles. I sat there peering out from behind my friend's head. It was at that moment I
noticed just how green we both were. It was right there, staring me in the face. This was why we were being passed over. Green.
And not a pretty, delicate shade of green that promised all things sweet and light but that deep green that so many had learned
to fear from the moment they were two years old. I pondered my misfortune as I was suddenly picked up. From my new viewpoint,
I understood. On my left, I saw carrots. They seemed to be pretty popular. Of course, they were brightly coloured, a mildly
amusing shape and the secret of making you see in the dark. The only other orange things were the oranges. Orange oranges.
You see, this made children giggle thus becoming an immediate hit. There were different types of oranges. The fancy upper
class ones with names like Mandarin, Satsuma, Tangerine...Clementine; that was my favourite. No wonder they were whisked off
to new homes as quickly as bubbles rose in coca cola. Then there were tomatos - big ones, little ones, cherry ones, on-the-vine
ones for the people who had more money than sense. Red - the colour of blood; obviously important for life. Tomatos equalled
life. Yes, they were popular indeed. The radishes - pink! People liked their pinkness. I heard stories of how they were used
as decoration. Potatos; everyone loves potatos - so much can be done with them - in their jackets, without their jackets,
chipped, mashed. sauteed (though to be honest I didn't quite know what that meant - we were too far away to hear more than
the odd whisper). Onions; why people liked them, I do not know. They just made people cry,which added to my theory that
people were rather strange. Pineapples, lemons, melons, strawberries, star fruit, mangos...all seemed so exotic to me and
oh, so pretty. Of course, there were other green ones here and it seemed most suffered the same fate as we did....picked up,
jiggled up and down until we felt a little nauseous and put back in the not most gentle of ways and feeling depressed. Broccoli.
That's what we were. The green tree like vegetable that seemed to instill a fear into many people. I heard stories of worms
being found in us, some didn't know what to do with us, some didn't know how to spell our name and most hurtful of all were
the ones that said "Broccoli. You know, like cauliflower but green!" Yes, we were well aware that cauliflower looked prettier
with it's creaminess, and gentle green leaves, it went so very well with cheese, it could be pickled or eaten raw. We needed
no reminding of our own inadequacies.
So, having been put
back for the sixth time that morning, I was totally unprepared when I was stuffed into a plastic bag. I barely had time to
wave goodbye to my friends and wish them luck as I started the next chapter in my life. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect
next. I knew I would be weighed....I knew I would close my eyes for that part. Noone likes to be weighed,right? After that?
I had no idea. No idea at all of what was to come next. I was finding it a little hard to breathe in my bag so I very carefully
poked a small hole in the bag with my stalk. Once I got my breath back, I took a look around. Next to me, there were things
I had never seen in my life! They all looked so odd and I could see were looking at me a tad suspiciously too. I tried to
smile. We would all be living together after all. We should try to set off on the right foot. I began to feel sick again and
when something landed on me with a thump I just closed my eyes and tried to relax. This was surely the hardest part?
I awoke to the sound
of beeping; found myself thrown into yet another bag and then darkenss. We seemed to be moving, then stopping then moving
again. i turned around and saw a parsnip quivering in the corner. I felt a pang of sympathy, or was it empathy, and reached
out a stalk to it. "Do you know what's happening?" it asked. I shook my florets as the apple said soothingly, "It's ok.
I was told about this. This is the car. It won't last much longer." She was right. It was over almost as soon as the words
were out.
Finally, the bags that suffocated
me were off and I could see my new surroundings. I blinked as a black nose came very close to mine. What was that?? It went
away soon enough after sniffing us though. I looked over at the parsnip and suddenly found ourselves very close and
being placed in a box under bright lights. Our new home already had some tenants. There was a yellow pepper - he looked wise,
and a few mushrooms that really needed a bath. I realised I was cold and there was not much room to maneuver. Hadn't these
people ever heard of personal space? All went dark and I could hear someone whimpering a little.
"Oh, for goodness sake!"
muttered the pepper. "These new ones are all the same. Stop your snivelling."
The mushrooms giggled
as the whimpering increased. "Poor parsnip," I thought. "She's only young."
Meanwhile, the tomatos
began chattering, asking questions. I was almost stunned by their boldness, their outgoingness but I settled back quietly
to see if I could learn anything. I felt the parsnip edge closer to me and we snuggled in the corner.
We listened intently
and I managed to gather three important bits of information. One, the light would come on at intermittent times during the
day and we would have to learn to sleep at odd times of day; two, we were considered the lowest of the low by the small people
and three, we had to get used to the cold. This was not how I imagined my liberation from the supermarket to be. I envisioned
fields, trees and butterflies...just as I had known in my childhood. I drifted off into daydreams of that time...
Later that day, after
the light came on and off seven times, I really wanted to stretch my stalks. It certainly was cramped in that box.I asked
the pepper if we were allowed out at some point.
"Ha!" it snorted and
the mushrooms immediately went off into a peal of giggles. I could see this could well become extremely annoying as the
hours went by. The tomatos began to whisper in their sweet voices. I caught only a few words but enough to make me frightened.
"hot water, knives, eaten..."
it would be pretty to have a petal
hug. and soft but i think a little too delicate and one would just spend their time worrying about not squishing them. but
maybe they would be expecting that and would wear some kind of protective covering that would still be soft and delicate feeling
but strong enough to withstand the inadvertant squeezes of someone who needs a hug. would the petals
be happier still if
they were left as a whole flower or are they aware that they will be plucked and scattered? do they mind? do they like it?
are they happy to float about in the breeze or do they miss their brief home?
or do they offer themselves for such purposes?
do they drop into children's hands to save others? i think so. i think the ones who want to be picked put themselves forward.
these are the petals who want to give hugs and bring smiles.
they come in pink and purple and red and yellow and orange.
they can be combined with kitten kisses, little whisker tickles or soft floppy bunny ears. all brought to you to brighten
your day.
Catching Dragons
As I walk along that bridge I smile to myself.
How could I have thought about jumping that night? It was ludricrous really, I mean, me? who doesn't like heights? I'd never
even have made it to stand on the edge much less throw myself in. I'm like a cat. I don't like water. Not cold, dark water...I
like my water warm, with bubbles, smelling of roses...actually that's a lie for I don't like the fake roses smell but it sounded
right, didn't it? Lime. I have lime bubble bath this time. It is disappointingly not green but I can live with that. But maybe
that could be my next venture - making green bubble bath. A bubble bath that smells green and looks green or maybe I could
confuse people and create a bubble bath that smell green but looks pink? People are easily fooled, fancy packaging, a name
like Not Lime and it would be a seller. I'd buy it but then I always was taken in by packaging. That's why I wanted to sew
dog bras to make them look cute, in an attempt for when February came, the dogs would still have a home. Perhaps packaging
was why I fell for you. I expected you to be sturdy, strong, dark...every girl's dream. What I got was a little different.
You were smaller, fair but I'll admit that you were strong. Sometimes you scared me when you raised your voice, when you lashed
out...you were selfish, attention seeking, taking but not giving. You hated my friends, in front of them you were the most
loving I"ve ever known you. When we were alone though, I wouldn't see you for hours. What did you do? Where did you go?You
never answered my questions, just turned away with a satisfied smirk, pushed me away when I tried to cuddle you. You know,
it wouldn't have been that hard to show a little affection. I still don't know what I did wrong, there was always a meal ready
for you, I'd buy your favourites in an attempt to please you. I didn't have the money for fancy food but I loved you and wanted
you to love me.It was wrong to think I could buy your affections. You kept me dangling on a string like a cat keeps a mouse
dangling. Oh wait! You were a cat, that's right. I forget sometimes. Personification, that's what they call it. don't they?
Do they? See? I still expect you to answer me. But you can't. Especially not now. You were catching dragons in your sleep
last night..I think they won. Sweet kitty, will you let me kiss you goodbye this time?
if the sky falls down, why won't it fall back up? What goes up must
go down, they say. well, why not the other way around? oh, i know...we'll put ourselves upside down and inside out for good
measure and then it will be ok. won't it?
JUMPER
i have a jumper. i'm not sure how high it jumps. or if it is a long jumper or a high jumper. but it is a jumper. it told me
that much. and then it jumped. right on top of me. i didn't quite know what to do. i mean, it's not like it clashed with anything
i was wearing but i didn't want it there? it's nice enough. maybe i offended it by taking it off and placing it on a book?it
looks a little forlorn...
SLEEPY TIME STORY
*whispers* once upon a time there lived a little z...
...she liked the colour blue and had always wanted a kitten..
she grew up without a kitten though and was kinda lonely and sad...she knew there was something missing...
one day she went walking in the woods to see if she could find some flowers
she had been walking for about an hour when she saw a kitten. It was so cute! but she didn't know if kittens were scared of
zs
so she sat down for a while and played with grass, listened and watched the kitten
after a while she began to cry because the kitten didn't come to play with her.
suddenly she heard footsteps and then a soft voice asking "whats the matter little z?"
so she explained to the r that come up that she had always wanted a kitten...
he said "it's ok, the kitten likes you but there are so many bad letters that it stays away." he scooped the kitten up and
placed in the z's lap.
it reached up and licked the z's face and began to purr...
as they played the r watched them. the z looked up and found herself staring into the r's eyes. she smiled and thanked him
for his kindness. he invited her to stay for a glass of water and some plain rice....
from that day on, they stayed together. the z, the r and the kitten. and the z had realised it wasn't a kitten she had been
missing all this time but an r....
she had finally found what made her happy.
the end
WAVES
Just the sound of the waves crashing in the night air. Footsteps squelched in soft sand, feeling miles away from another living
soul...living soul. Was her own soul even living? Did she want her soul to be living? She made her way along the beach, barefoot,
feeling the cold water drown her toes.
The moonlight seemed suddenly too bright, like she was sitting in that room again, all eyes on her...where she felt as though
she were under a spotlight. Quickly she made her way to the cluster of rocks,knowing somehow it was important that she stay
in the shadows with just the sound of the waves crashing in the night air.
Sinking onto the slightly wet sand she is reminded that she has control over her body now. She can make her legs bend, her
hands brush away the loose strand of hair from her face, her fingers close around the pencil. Of course, this she had always
felt in control of.Until that night when she knew that the betrayal meant that sometimes her body was beyond her control.
Just like the sound of the waves crashing in the night air.
Her soul though...it was her soul that had chosen this life for her. She had no control over the path she was to take. Yes,
people thought she had made decisions, she was the one who created situations, that she knew what it was she wanted. Everyone
thinks that. In reality, she knew she hadn't made those choices, she didn't do things because she wanted to. Every road taken
was at the soul's insistance. She felt a sudden rush of peace as she listened to the sound of the waves crashing in the night
air.
As the wind picked up, pages from her notebook scattered giving brief glimpses into her life. Would anyone take a moment to
read if they happened across them in tomorrow's midday sun? She smiled as she thought of how busy and full of laughter the
beach would be tomorrow. She could almost hear the children pleading for ice cream, teenagers flirting and the sounds of volleyball
games. She smiled when she thought of how she would be here, how she relived that part of the day and noone knew. And how
she would return dressed in crimson the following night as sure as she could hear the sound of the waves crashing in the night
air.
THE AVOCADO GIRL
I have bought an avocado. I have never known what to do with one. It has merely sat there, looking at me with soulful eyes
each time I went into the kitchen - I gave it a potato to play with during my absence. They became rather fond of each other
and couldn't bear to be parted so to the warm, grey plastic bag they called a bin liner, they went together. I'm sure they
are happy in vegetable heaven or is an avacado actually a fruit? Hmm....mixed race marriages. I'm all for them.
Ok, thats it. I'm off to the class I thought I had last period but which was actually this period and I'm not going to the
class I was asked to teach next period and thought I could because this class was last period in my fucked up little head.
Got that?
LUAU
Mothy jumps onto her broomstick, almost losing the mitten sleeping on the end...she shouts " gerbils!", wonders why nothing
is happening and curses her elbow...the mitten opens one sleepy eye and says in that 'here we go again' voice, "you need to
give Zelda a pomegranate". Mothy looks at the mitten in despair.."one thing, I ask you to do one thing and you can't even
get that right."
She calls to the mouse, who, luckily is ready and waiting with the desired fruit, hands it to the broomstick and off they
go - mothy looking a litle sea sick, the mitten snoring and Zelda dribbling juice..
Soon enough they land on Hjutydfrt where all the luau dancers are enjoying an afternoon sweeping ceremony. She plucks 7 of
them from the milling crowds and drops them in her handbag. Grabbing a sheep on the way, they make their journey back amid
bumps and squeals from all.
Zelda comes to a halt just outside what looks like a giant mushroom...
FROG,RABBIT,RAIN
There's something rather intriguing about words.
Words are not fixed, they don't have a set direction,
they have no stop signs, no traffic lights, no speed limits...
There are so many words out there, we need air
traffic control for them. They can get out of control,
they don't quite reach their destination sometimes.
They get jumbled up mid air, they arrive in a
slightly dishevelled state with the meaning a little squiffy.
Words have power. They can lift, they can soar with
joy, they are able to fill the deep dark holes on
occasion. Words distract, they choose whether or not
to flutter past or sit down and make a nest wherever
they desire. Words can hurt. They can be like wasps
and buzz about and finally sting you. Some of us never
get stung whilst others live in fear of words.
Yet we all want words. We all yearn to hear them, to
feel them. It's the one thing we all have. We all have
our own routes for words though.
I write sometimes, with my mind just floating about,
nowhere to go, sending random messages to my fingers
which, in turn, will sometimes behave and type what
they've been told to type and sometimes they will just
choose random letters and make some words and somehow
string them together in a vaguely coherant sentance.
Thats the great thing about letters. You can make
words with them. Sometimes they seem to have a life of
their own though and thats when they can get
dangerous. Like suddenly I'll find I've written hate,
or death, or bleed or something and I wasn't totally
aware thats what I wanted to write. But I did have a
dream one night about whether verbs should be kept in
the fridge or not. My conclusion was that certain
verbs need preserving - the good ones, to understand,
to love, to hug, to kiss, to care, to sleep
with..., you know, all those that seem to be
vanishing. So, yes, we should keep them in the fridge.
Not in a jar - they need to breathe, to hover about on occasion.
More importantly these words should be turned into actions. They need to be given meaning and life. They can't just stay in
the fridge unused. We need to preserve some and let them breed. We need these words to surround us, to envelope us, to enjoy
these words...
And sometimes the only words I have are frog, rabbit,rain.
BZZZZZ
Vitamins??Of course you should bring those! I love them. A wine and vitamin party. Sounds good to me. A buzz. I want some
buzzing to be happening. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Its a bar. I opted for the bar in the eyebrow rather than a hoop simply because I'm such a 'I sleep on my left eyebrow and
am bound to get a hoop caught in my hair or something' type of person that it was just safer all round. Oh dear. I just have
this picture of me sleeping on my eyebrow - just my eyebrow. That would be an achievement. Maybe I can perfect an eyebrow
stand??? Anyway, I like the piercing. Most people have said it looks very natural - how that works I'm not quite sure because
surely having a metal bar stuck through one's eyebrow is most unnatural??
Warm climates. I would like to be in warm climates. My hips would like to be in warm climates. They will also not be able
to do any of M's dancing I'm sure.BUT, I can't wait to see some of your jigging! Jig away, young lady. What shall I do in
return?? Lets see.......um...does it have to be of the dancing variety?? I shall make a chicken out of a tea towel. I can
bop whilst doing that if that would suffice?
I did toddle. The students didn't want English club - don't blame them on a Friday afternoon and so I didn't argue about it.
We all stayed stupidly late for the speech contest last night anyway so I think we (they - I didn't do anything) deserve a
day off.
La la la. Away with the squiggly fairies.
|
