All entries for Thursday 01 April 2010
April 01, 2010
Ashen as the smoke that envelops us,
Lizzie sits in the floor swaying,
Even her bouncy-bright hair
Losing its sparkle.
Ed and I giggle
Through the apple
Keep each other’s gaze,
This is hilarious for some reason.
Ed looks cool
Says Ed a lot.
Standing up, I feel the ground pulse:
The world is bouncy!
Tendrils entwine us,
But we trust them
And we laugh at the stories we see.
Later we agree:
There was more than shisha in that pipe.
My right arm feels violated
By the market’s finest henna terrorists.
Forcefully snatching my wrist
(No! Not for me thanks!)
And delicately patterning it
With this foul smelling mud
This intricate design,
Will bring a husband
(But I don’t want babies…)
Before I know it, the sludge
Winds an elegant trail from
The tip of my little finger to my bicep.
Their work complete, they stand back
And demand the price
Of a basic hostel room for two nights.
I’m starting to think it looks pretty.
At least it’s no longer orange.
I love it. It’s beautiful.
The cold hard concrete
Of the petrol station porch
Undermines the sleeping bag
That protects me
Against cold and contempt;
Against the overzealous illumination of car headlights;
Against the guilty sweet smelling gasoline hanging heavily around us;
Against the scary rush of the motorway…
Please let me sleep.
“We’ll be there any day now”
We say, sitting in the dust of cars past,
With home made signs,
With our best pathetic-shy-but-friendly faces.
A car slows down.
Coasts pasts. He reads our signs.
Gives us either:
A kind look, that is also an apology.
A glance that suggests that we are idiots, because we are.
A supportive (in the metaphysical sense) wave.
Not long to wait anyhow.
We’ll be in Morocco any day now.
A reworking of my previously posted Love/Hate poem. I rewrote it in Marrakech, whilst in a very poetic/random mood.
Remembering your high in bed amidst the leaves,
(it will never repeat)
Dare I define what can’t be described?
like the mundanity of Christmas sherry.
like the funny way the inside of my skin in honest.
like an albatross at Twilight
that haunts my eyes, my mind, my thoughts.
like rap music sparrows
(boom boom tweet tweet).
in cheese muffins
in a clean ironed shirt.
like cakes left in the rain
like water (tears) and blood in my lungs
Loving you when I let you think you’re right
(cute as a button; not so bright).
And letting you hate me,
Spread beneath your feet;
It’s like the exciting mundanity of a hot day,
senses overwhelmed by season flowers
It’s like the smart of cutting lemons
with a papercut.
It’s like the uncertainty of cooking a new dish
with new ingredients
not knowing whether it’ll work.
It’s like a tequila shot
blisters stings burns;
soothed with salt and lemon.
It’s like walking along a beach
and knowing you’ll always
have sand in your shoes.
It’s like running
for ever not stopping in no particular direction because you forgot to check a map.
It’s like falling
but knowing you can fly
but knowing you may choose not to.
The light that shines so bright
Casts an even darker shadow.