Relaxed

I’d sucked hard on the disappointment, like you do with nutshells after a particularly good meal.

I know I tend to exaggerate the size of my heart but I don’t let that stop me from going about my business. I’ve held a ticker tape parade in the name of excitement every day of my life.
If I run out of coloured paper and will rely on spirit fingers and the prickled strains of my hair in the wind.

Drive fast! I say so the colours blend and the world is given to you in a different combination.

We had the perfect combination; first relaxed attitudes and then all the trimmings; freshly brushed teeth, rain, a spotlight and a slow dance. In the moment I felt we didn’t need to be as big as we were, seeing as we weren’t trying to prove anything or play a role.

And…

we were rewarded with an emptied mind that let in the jangle of life just happening.

These additions had they not been there, gleaming and reflecting in the pavement, we would not have ordered them.

We were enough.

Change-Version 2

Desperate and armed only with a sandwich board advertising: AUTHENTIC SELF EXPRESSION. I roam the streets in the hope you’d see and it will strengthen my enthusiasm and hopefully restore the circulation in your arm, for I have been squeezing you too tightly. My only instructions will be to scrape it straight off my tongue and serve it immediately.

It is all in the mind and I could run away with the future and even though it hasn’t happened the arches of my feet grow higher, I am lifted.
I acquire some extra hands; no doubt these will only encourage my compulsion to gorge. Let’s hope they are put to good use. Twenty fingers now to swear with, to cross my heart.

All these changes, I can’t see yet. But it makes me forget the pace of my breath and the blister between my toes.

Tonight, I will lie down next to you at a party and watch the clouds, brainstorming the identity behind their shapes. I’ll be the first to say what has been on my tongue since this morning, “That one looks like us”.

Change

Today
I awoke to find the arches of my feet have grown.
I am lifted, higher.
With this new found height I will sidestep down the street wearing only a sandwich board, displaying: AUTHENTIC SELF EXPRESSION. To be scraped off my tongue and served immediately.

I have acquired some extra hands, four or so. They are restless and tangle with anticipation for use. Has my body adapted to my compulsion to gorge? Fucking oath!
They should be put to good use, I will swear with all four. Twenty fingers, to pat my belly and settle me.

I am all change, recent and unfamiliar. There is no expression in pieces. I would perfer to look, lived in.

Tonight
I will lie down next to you at a party and watch the clouds, brainstorming the identity behind their shapes. I’ll be the first to say what has been on my tongue since this morning, “That one looks like us”.

Sitting At The Counter

Close up.

The lips are flat, but brightly coloured. Soon they will purse together or be licked. Then they will inflate and glisten.

Lick.

The faint smell of sour milk, morning mouth and aged breath. The mouth is waxed and there is the memory of waking and of sleeping limbs made new with sex.

A goal.

Thought about but not spoken or written down. It is dressed up, but looks dull to the mind.

It is taking effort today to knead possibility into dough, to bake it and serve it this evening.

INSTRUCTIONS-Version 2

The furnace of the heart is fickle. It can burn through attraction faster than a match stick.
The well trained point the flame in the right direction, to keep it lit.
It is important to remember a bad mood will mean possibility no longer exists; everything becomes predictable.
Excitement really does use a lot of gas.
As someone once told me, if you say a word too many times, it no longer makes sense. The same goes for questions.
Do I want it? Can I have it? Do I want it? Can I have it? Do I want it? Can I have it?
At very least, be discerning.
Understand the palette,
know what tastes good and what ‘gets’ you.




orginally posted December, 2007

Me

On the bus at night, the lighting does nothing to help the glassy nature of blue eyes. So, when you see me you will think I am terribly sad.
This isn’t the case, my moods are stable. If I were I showerhead, I’d be the proudest in the street.
Never. Ever. Dripping.
You either turn me on or off.

If you saw me in the morning, the kind where the clouds start to blush red at 8 o’clock and you know it is going to be a scorcher, a fierce day. I’ll encourage this feeling.
As you step on the bus, I’ll be the sharpest point, defined. Not a hue, a colour!
You’ll think…she’s burning.

I prefer this. Please get on my bus in the morning.

A partnership with Intent.

I ate you a second time and I wonder, why? I thought about your sexy dream with a monster in the back of a taxi and I wanted to write a story about it. I don’t think you should read too much into situations because decision making is often, empty. How annoying to kiss with a blank mind, it does nothing for my aspirations to become a romantic. Lately ‘romantic’ has only been used in negative context in my company. My feet were traced the other day; it is so delightful to be the witness to purpose, to be in a partnership with intent. Maybe I will concentrate on being me in my dream within a dream within a dream where I have children and I love them very much.

Not Tonight-edit

I don’t want to look at you
there is no enjoyment in it today and that is what we’re here for; we’re in the bar for each other?
I love to look
no to stare. Last time we went to a concert, we witnessed a visual masterpiece. Everyone shut their eyes, lids down in respect for the sound.

Sitting next to you I notice I am swallowing more than usual
it’s a quick fix for a dry mouth.
The shadows you create make me want to panic. You are angular, like gaudy jewellery screaming but making no sense. I gulp my beer to wet the whistle and thicken the blood.

Your gesticulation is out of control, you cup your hands over your mouth and you hold the back of your head. Are your thoughts heavier this month? I want to offer you a cup of tea, but it will just make your face red.

Edging closer to make sure you’re alright I notice you’re wheezing.
In your lap is a heavy beating mass.
Your heart. And
you can’t hold it
can’t handle the weight.

Real and Stolen Conversations....

Meeting

- Hey! How’s it going?
- Crap, I just spend the morning with a moody fuckwit. It’s made me irritable. Everything is suddenly irritating. Especially when people end sentences with a preposition.
- What?
- An example being someone just asked me “Where’s the library at?"
- HA!
- I’ll get over it.

Text Message Discussion

- Have you heard from him since shit Thursday?

- Nope. Nothing.

- Is he dead to us?

- YES!

Stolen One

- Woah! That's a fucking huge bruise you’ve got there.
- I feel off a horse and it ran over my leg.
- Ouch! First time rider?
-No, I was cocky and requested one with lots of “go” .
- Oh...you hedonist you.