xxxxxxx

Its nice to dream about it for a while

Flirt with it

Hold it but for a moment

Pretend you will always have it…


Happiness -huh if only
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

Your sound creations

I’m reminded of my ability to smile

My smile instantly becomes a chuckle

Compelled by nothing but the backdrop of the sounds around me

Your sounds

I’m elevated onto a realm of blues, heightened by the aroma of sickly sweet pinks,

Invigorated  by shocking yellows and mellowed by rays of orange

Your sound encompasses me

My dream like state puts a bounce in my flat pace

Helps forget my hardships through an interjection of  soulful optimism

I stay

For a while makes me close my eyes, nod my head

I smile

Mamma

Dear Mamma, I miss you

 Dear Mamma, how are you ?

I often wonder  where you are watching me from. I know you are because every now and then…not too often mind, I feel you. I almost smell you, almost feel the warmth of your embrace.

I generically miss you which is to be expected, but some days more than others. Today I miss you a lot. No reason in particular…or maybe because today I met a women (a funny woman) and she reminded me of you,   how  I remember you once were

How is it where you are?

I  imagine a cold dark place at times…filled with the stench of nothingness…empty and rotting. Also  a fearful place that consumes with an inner terrifying fear brought about by loneliness and regret. Wanting to touch wanting to hold…wanting to be touched and be held.

Mummy what’s it like?

Do you wonder about year after year searching for us ….or are you filled with joy, happiness and at last peace…a type we can only imagine?

Do you love? Are you loved? Is it green and lilac is it tranquil?

As much as I miss you I do not want to know for myself and do not want to join you…I hate that you are in a place I fear the most and so feel even more detached from you. I feel ridden with that guilt. You lay in the dark place of my mind….you lay in the cold empty place…..a place I would not like to see, however joyous and pleasant it may be. Maybe I need reassurance that its ok, ok to see you.

But I do miss you  Mummy

Why didn’t I come by you ask? I don’t know why. Is it idleness? I tell or convince myself I don’t like the place but  its because to visit you means I must  confront my own mortality. Im  scared.

I long for you dearly, but dont wish to be with you  anytime soon.  Give me a sign…let me know that you watch me from a pretty place…a warm place and pleasant place that novels were written of and love modelled on


Until someday...

your loving daughter xxxx
　
　
　
　

Exhale

As I simultaneously search your soul with the caressing of my hands and your body through my intuition
I seek one fragment one shed one utterance of desire, passion and lingering love from me to you


I am left unfulfilled.


The reality that I no longer hold you dear

That I no longer feel you

This new covenant causes my hands to frantically continue searching whilst my mind releases tears for a soul  it once knew but is now lost to it
　
Not even your hardening from my touch causes my inner thigh’s to pound

nor the shaky meeting of our minds cause my heart to murmur

I feel we are empty, We are life less;

have less life, than when Romeo lay in the arm of his lover in their final resting place.

We are nothingness…..but still I continue to search until a flicker may reappear.
　
　
　

Triggered by smell

Im triggered by smell
Cant you tell?
Fond memories
That lunch box smell, summery days in a play ground, carefree timees, innonce compeling us to wish or dream
Soggy biscuits and apples after a day playing, hot and stcky fingers and boy chasing
　
Im triggered by smell
Its hell
Dragged back to past encounters kicking and screaming
Memories that had been concealed, now opended by Pandora, creating armeggadon in my mind
Im triggered to meet my past
And connect with my grief, and after its over and gone I  am  satisfied
a sense of relief

im triggered by smell to write
flowery and light
or dark as night
whatever it produces,  my nose seeks its muses

My first love

I often dreamt about him…became aware of his presence before I was aware of myself
Desiring to taste the sweetness of him, touch his innocence….to be touched to be shaped to be born into a surreal existence…a freedom within me only he could muster
I often dreamed of sneaking away to visit him…to be enticed by his larger than life energy to be captivated by his swagger
First time I met him… I was in luuurve. His skin of many shades, bright eyes held the wisdom of a legion of souls. Spoke so many languages…we connected on too many levels for a first time encounter. His forefathers travelled from many seas in so being we connected from past encounters and on the jagged hope of future meetings to come.

Transfixed by his aesthetics

His sweet taste lingered on the buds of my memory for a long time after I left him. This would be fuelled by constant reminders of him around me all the time.
I would replay his touch of his mind, the thrust of emotions I encountered. My happy place.

When I saw him again he seemed shorter and after a few minutes that surge of excited energy and sweaty palms had disappointedly flopped back to the pit of my stomach. Don’t get me wrong he was still as fine as hell and still had his swagger, But it was different. Or maybe after the years gone by I was different now. I found myself questioning if our first encounter did actually happened as id replayed it on countless times in my mind, or if I'd exaggerated it.
His approach with me was different too as if he was being cautious …but still just as intense. He took me to new places and I reached new heights…but I constantly compared them to our first encounter. It occurred to me I had to let go of yesterday and embrace now….my affection after all had not stopped…just different.
He introduced me to new friends…which in turn became my friends…bound by our connection….the love of this great man. I now saw him as venerable as he revealed himself to me… maybe it was there all along maybe I was just to infatuated with the ideal of him to see it. I saw him naked…his inner turmoil battling. I witnessed his grittier side, his uglier side…..but somehow I left him feeling a greater depth of emotion towards him; some may tag it as sympathy but I think its empathy…a shared understanding. This emotion surpassed his sexual energy, his chat, his ego. I felt that he was in my blood. I felt a tiny seed of something growing that would become sooo strong so unique …so beautiful
　
We stayed in touch a lot more this time. I no longer needed to dream of our encounter…they were played out through small talk deep into the early hours of the morning.
you see we are still so closely connected. Our embraces so much more intense because I was holding him…knowledgeable of all of him. When I looked at him I saw what I felt towards him. He had now become a part of me… I would remain loyal to him… regardless of the bad times my affection would and could never faultier
Yes I loved this great entity…
.
Even though at times I witnessed and encountered the harsher, rude even grittier side of him, I was very protective when others judged him. As I traced the emerging age lines on his face…I searched him…I knew him.  Although knocked twice,  to me he still stood tall.
…
This great man of a city… this Soul of a great city....this city was apart of me

Man I  love  N.Y.C
　
　
　
　
　
　

Remembering

Water dripping, its rhythmic pattern intoxicating; exciting; echoing, creating an emptiness that consumes. Painting colours that remain imprinted on the eyes that see the mind. Swirling colours of Mojave and gentle toxic grey on a backdrop of nostalgia…..past days slipping away as each drip drops.