Feb 23, 2013

Some wise words from a wise friend

Listen, anything in your life that is worth it
will come in the form of a question mark.
You know? It won't come easy if it's good,
nothing good comes as a fullstop.

Sometimes you may come across
a comma, letting you draw breath before
you get back into life.

Take deep breaths, take deep breaths
and keep hope. Be patient.

I love lazy Saturdays with my peeps

Feb 14, 2013

Valentine's anti-poem by my other half

Roses are red
Cocaine is white
If i didnt have work I'd head to cy on a flight

Roses are red
Your body is hot
If I could see you right now
I'd jump your bones on the spot

Roses are red
Your coffee date is boring
Hurry up and talk to me
Or I'll be snoring

Feb 7, 2013

The Promise

Hi Mark,

I'm at work and it's one of those days
when I should be working hard to meet the deadlines
but I'm sitting on a space-rock orbiting the earth

It's cool up here - there's a stillness you can't find down in Earth.
It's so quiet and peaceful I can see my thoughts coming out of my head in colourful processions,
floating in front of me, letters wriggling and stretching and blinking at their sudden birth.

It's great- some come out with an explosion,
and I have to reach out and grab them before they shoot away in space forever.
Some need pushing out of my head like a stubborn baby
that doesnt want to be born;

some even bite on their way out, bringing a sting and a tear to my eyes.

And then again, some of them come out dancing, letters almost prancing and skipping like some happy princess,
or proudly, on some ancient greek warrior's goodwinded ship
riding the sea to battle.

And some yet tiptoe, not to upset
the status quo
and order,
as if some law of physics could be broken and have me crashing
down with my meteor into nothingness.

Ah, but still some thoughts are small
and some as big as space itself.

If only you could be up here with me.

I can see the Earth. It looks small and sad.
As if someone said: take a planet, and wrap it up in tears.

All these people dying and being born every second,
it's like a termite nest but inside out.

If only you could be here. Searching for my truth on earth
is like searching for love in a nightclub:
it's noisy, dark, and everyone's on something,
and I'm shoved and stepped on by drunk assholes trying to claim the dancefloor.

Up here, I am farther from the noise and closer to the truth
than ever,
and it's as if the milky way swirls its galaxial blanket around me
and wraps me up in the warmth of its planets. I feel good.

Cosily, I stretch out my arm and trace my logic in stardust.
I look at it briefly before it disintegrates and floats away.

I make a promise to the universe: that I will uphold my duty to do right by myself and others,
that I will strive to be happy, that through my happiness I will shower this world with light.

That I will go out of this world with a big and wonderful bang,
just as I came into it,

and that the inbetween will truly be mine.