baby fat

They tell me ‘he’s beautiful’,

‘He has dreamy skin’

and ‘a perfect smile’.

Some even say, ‘I could just eat him up’.

I nod and smile.

The sweat around the folds of my belly

streaming,

uncomfortably in the spot where my son sits on my hip.

A constant reminder of the ravages of pregnancy

And what happens

when the baby fat simply refuses to budge.

I smile

even though my soul longs

for the body it used to inhabit…

moments

 

Sosketchlovemetimes, it’s more than a meeting of minds.

Bodies touching.

A moment.

Precious.

Entirely on its own.

Stands up to the blistering light.

Interrogated.

The humming of the night hushes the blemishes left by words that cannot be spoken.

Postponed for another time.

Hopeful.

We return to the spot.

me, the mirror and my goddam boobs

In the war against self, angst and joy make the most noise… Increasing the burden on the soul to pretend to find the spiritedness of its once youthful exuberance… Shoooo even the sound of that sentence makes my mind exhausted

So I flip the page, hoping to find a new chapter… A corner of the mind that hasn’t yet been polluted with the dejectedness of being grown…

In between the rubble sprigs of hope sprout shoots… Growing small eyes with a skewed view of the pavement. In the end all that’s left is me, the mirror and my goddam boobs

Leading me to my favourite street. With its welcoming avenue…

journey to its serenity

The moment of death is fixed.

Life is nothing but a journey to its serenity.

The moments in between.

Tears.

Conversations at midnight.

Death is a wide open embrace.

Somersaults of winds that bring the rain at night.

Dreams of summer bring nothing but crazy memories of brown skin against wet sand.

The moment of death is fixed.

Life is nothing but a series of steps up a hill.

Tumbling down sand dunes.

Salt water seeps between cracks and gnaws at the wound.

The moment of death is fixed.

Its muted tones leaves a trail of stillness.

I know what I knew then: Lying here would bring me closer to my maker.

maybe, never

the thought of owning the bruises in your eyes.

the cracks of your broken heart

through the unspoken words

of promises,

of things i should be,

but can’t bear to be

in your life right now,

maybe never.

is simply too much.

these thoughts cuts deep.

guilt riddles me

like a hunger you dare me to feed.

the thought of hearing your voice

in my mind’s eye

before i go to sleep

pleading with me ‘to try one more time’

to be things i can’t be

and would probably never bear to be

in your life right now,

maybe never.

i am not hate.

nor do i respond to holding

broken hearts

in the bosom

of my happiness.

i laugh

because

tears would just be too obvious.

the deal

Nothing beats the discovery of love in tree houses.
With birds chirping all around, loud enough to muffle the sounds
that we shouldn’t be making in the first place.
We imagine ourselves in that other city,
In another world another time where no one knows who we are and
where we’ve been
Avenues lined with palm trees,
We walk hand in hand
Far from a life punctuated with uncertainty.
Nothing beats the feeling of stolen moments
Whispers in the dark, secrets sworn
Happy in the knowledge that we’re each other’s One.
With the prospect of marriage looming happily in our horizons
Mirages of a life we’ve been dreaming of for so long.
Well, that’s how we hope it is going to be.
He never escapes my imagination and I his.
He is presence and I am reality.

magic series: i see rainbows

i see rainbows..

even when it doesn’t rain…

i see rainbows…

streams of warm colours

that tremble when touched.

i hear songs

harmonies of pleasure

that hum along over scattered rhythms.

i see rainbows…

and i remember

a time when i loved you

before you could bring yourself

to stop throwing up

at the sight of your face

reflected in the still waters

around our home…

i see rainbows

streaks of hope

between the ribbons of light.

and i wonder

if my imagination is enough

to carry me

to its ends….

the fly life

right now,
i wish i was a fly on a wall
on the sunny side of this building.
catching a tan;
or whatever it is flies do on walls
i’d sit and listen.
pick up dirty bits;
and hope no one swats me dead.
i’d move with the sun
as the day progresses
the fly life..
aah…

 

poetry: passing through

this morning

for a brief moment, i could’ve sworn

it was the sound of your laughter i heard.
it’s funny how we always assume that we will meet again.
and then years pass by.
next thing i hear, you are gone.
we will never see each other again.
not in this lifetime, at least.
part of me is glad that my only memories of you,
are all of you happy and healthy.
am constantly wondering whether there will come a time when my heart will get used to the thought of loss, of death… whether this jolt of the heartstrings will fade…
we forget the pain and continue living, till the next time…