It stings so sore when your demeanour is invaded by anger, frustration and misunderstanding for the sugar on your soul can’t be seen when in the throes of tantrum. I can guide and I can talk, but it is you who must tow the line into confidence & maturity in order for you to shine among peers and decorate others in your light. That light that lifts a funeral, that glow that leads the way. All we have to do is keep communicating.
( J )
X
Terrible twos sink their teeth into our necks like an Alsatian with lockjaw going for the juggler, architects of anger unknown and trying to trace the source only to hope it’s just a phase. In between the tears is choreography and distant epiphanies: will she be the life & soul or does she own a wallflower heart? Is she ellipsis or ampersand? Time will tell.
( J )
X
We are shadows tight to midnight dancing featherweight on floorboards, the hope of dodging toddler tears swollen by the fact she’s swerved the siesta. Birdsong rendezvous, she’s still getting used to the idea.
( J )
X
Playing hopscotch with the clock as time uncurls and deadlines ditch the distance, our escape to the silverscreen hanging by a thread. The green lights of dreaming offspring shimmer, illuminate and finally signal our entrance to rivers of tarmac; the road to fantasy trafficless for two vespertines rigged to ignite the night.
Japanese cuisine, precious dialogue, European cinema and effervescence shared, skeletal recreation addressed with the elegance nurtured over naked flames. We exchange testimonies and slip back into our parental skins ready for our return to the triptych, renewed, reborn, and recharged with the blessing of the clock.
( J )
X
Temporary tears delay your entrance to the night, the otherside of daylight ready for your fall but still the stamina in you clings. I loiter at white lines watching red & green alternate until your sleeping breaths are contently exhaled via pretty little lungs conducting symphonies in nightlights.
( J )
X
It’s such a pleasure just to know your bones.
( J )
X
Last night I felt the helplessness of distance: shackled to a workplace sans immediate relief knowing offspring were struggling without me. Helplessness stuck it’s boot in time after time, a barbed rose thorn perforating my thoughts minutely everytime I tried to sleep. Years of sleeping in fear have proved inadequate training for something this vital.
Black prevailed and, almost simultaneously operating as a welcome alarm, white woke me through a crack in the curtains. I scour the palm-size screen adjacent and exhale when I realise I’ve been dutifully informed that everything is fine.
Current feeling: fizzy inside, warm glow, day-glo happiness. Eager to get home now, cradle the ones I love and do my very best to put smiles back on faces; the warmth of an embrace can count double on days like today.
( J )
X
An invasion of light is nature’s alarm, an initial curse emerging as a beautiful blessing to applaud and appreciate. Eyes uncurl & limbs are straightened in anticipation of another day breathing sweet air into lungs unpunished via respiratory tools unscathed.
Amber fluid is the kick in this morning; the tilting of tea into a Sahara mouthpiece is tantamount to paradise at hours this early. Something solid follows to fuel muscle & mind, not anger & apathy.
After morning manna, I’m perfectly poised to enter the exterior, eyeball fellow commuters, dance on pedals and revel in a reunion long overdue.
( J )
X
You could dance on the strings of a heart of stone & steal breaths from a stranger in the afterglow.
Are you an angel in disguise?
( J )
X
Dancing through the kitchen to obtain provisions that satisfy hunger cries:
I’m armed & in demand.
( J )
X
Joe / Man Not Machine 