Am I behind glass
that’s sound proofed?
Am I uttering words
just for my sake?
Am I a mime?
Am I dumb?
Has my voice become hoarse?
Do I thunder out silence
with deafening force?
Is my tongue wrapped in barbed wire?
Are my lips stapled closed?
Do little men have my larynx
in a strangle hold?
Have they choked me
to within an inch of my life and let go?
Or is the answer to each question
an echoing no?
And if that’s so
then this must be purgatory;
Why else would the world
always ignore me?
I am lost.
Not like the TV series… although the parallels are undeniable; I am a viewer, a mere spectator, of my life. I’m watching the confusing twists and baffling turns of the plot, trying to figure out what has led to this point, and what else is in store. I start each episode with bated breath, which is then forcibly expelled through snarling disappointment as the story becomes more incredulous; impossibly complicated. It leaves me, at each cliffhanger, with more questions and fewer answers than the previous instalment.
It’s nearing the end of the series and I find myself yelling at the screen as I reach the unsettling and frustrating conclusion that the writers are out of ideas; that they’ve simply given up; that there’s nothing better to come. No catharsis, no life changing epiphany; just resounding ‘what ifs’ and blinding regret. It’s a final ‘f*** you’ to me; the ever loyal but now disgruntled viewer who invested time, who had to keep watching in spite of the continual disappointment. They reeled me in they promised me things. They gave me hope, and then they cast me aside, bereft. Empty. My life is empty.
I am lost.
And in my displacement I’ve become a hermit inside my thoughts; I hear the world around me, I see it, I walk in it but I don’t live in it. Not anymore. I’m disconnected. Unplugged. I don’t even recognise my reflection anymore. Who is that pale skinned husk blinking at me? I don’t like her. She makes me want to stay in here. They say that the mind can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. They say no man is an island, but I am a castaway in a cerebral sea and the solitude of my musings are divine. By contrast, the tumultuous uncertainty of her reality is unappealing. By contrast, she looks like hell.
I am lost.
But I’m not sure that I even want to be found. Would it be so bad if I never came back? My alter ego, my cover story, is doing an adequate job of maintaining the look of normality; a sufficient semblance of sanity. Maybe I’ll just leave her to it. Besides, it’s warm in here, comforting; nobody lies, nobody cheats, nobody disappoints, or angers, or blames. In here, I suppose, I’m not really lost at all.
In here I am me.
In here I am free.
Has this top shrunk?
Or am I getting fatter?
(We both know the answer,
but what does it matter?)
My children have toys
and food and clothes,
So who cares if my jeans
are all covered in holes?
And yes my hair’s messy,
What’s a brush? I forget…
At least the stray birds
will have somewhere to nest.
My nails are all split,
They’ve been naked for months;
My polish has gone hard
and my file’s at the dump.
I’m never alone,
But who needs five minutes peace
when you have
that won’t cease?
Yes I’d love to,
I’ll pencil you in,
How’s January 10th 3010?
But although I complain
- And at times I despair -
They are worth every wrinkle
and every grey hair.
What would I trade for all the joys
of raising girls, of raising boys?
For all the sleepless nights and such?
For all the pain (there has been so much)?
For all the hugs and laughs and fun?
For the times I’ve all but given up?
For the times I’ve dreamed the ‘what could be?’
But feared the lack of strength in me?
For all the anger and sheer frustration
and the thanks for which I’m still here waiting?
For the times my heart has yearned to reveal
all the good – and bad – I feel?
For each loving,
There’s nothing that I’d trade for this.
A monkey saw its reflection
In an oak framed mirror
The contours of his visage
The glass was crystal clear
Which filled his mind with fear
“How dare he have a nicer face than mine?”
He picked up a stone
And threw it at the mirror
It hit the glass and bounced down to the floor
Digging heels in grass
He charged into the glass
And now that poor sweet monkey is no more
Can you hear the orange
in the sunset?
It whispers to the purple
as they blend.
Can you feel the magic
while it’s working?
Busy laying colours
end on end.
Can you see the song
the sun is singing?
Harmonised by palettes
full and bright.
Can you taste the beauty
of the heavens?
Its sacred scent is calling
in the night.
As we lay body to body in ecstasy
I knew it was the last time you’d be next to me,
The last time I’d hold your chest to me,
Feel your breath on me,
For your body cried out: “Remember Me”
And mine called back, regrettably:
“To the end of me… Til the death of me…
You have the best of me.”
And the rest of me?
I have to let you go now.
Let you grow, spread your wings and know
the feeling of freedom so sweet,
Finding your feet, reaching your peak,
Go now and seek the one who holds your key,
For that is not me
and this now I see.
So be free,
But always remember me.
The voices of my weakened soul
Empower forces deep
And threaten to drive the threads of life
Into dark and endless sleep
The voices of my shadowed mind
Have drowned out good intent
But still an echoed conscience thrives
And beckons to repent
A redeemer lives in the bitter blood
That pulses through my veins
A whispered voice amongst the rest
Screams out to cease the pain
And though it is lulled and hushed to sleep
By sinful thought and deed
I know it one day will break through
This voice will set me free
That night at the palace I was your queen
The fanfare of fireworks setting the scene
A stillness – a peace – fell over the land
And we glimpsed at the beauty that God has us planned
We ascended the stairs to the top of our world
And there we were held as darkness fell
Red mist lit the skies and cast us a spell
The glory of heaven now ours to tell
That night at the palace you were my king
We reigned in the moonlight and danced on the whim
I looked into your eyes and you into mine
And we glimpsed at the beauty that God us designed
Enchanted in silence by the sights we beheld
Our hearts cried out and our souls were compelled
To remember that moment and remember it well
The moment God showed us true love never fails
You take a step
and move a mile
You blink an eye
it’s dark a while
You sow a seed
a field you reap
You shed a tear
an ocean deep
You plant a tree
a forest grows
You heave a sigh
a typhoon blows
You say so little
but say so much
Your heart is one
that Midas touched