on any day

I marvel at contrasts
lull over dirt
admire the patterns
left by rust
I clear the clutter
focus on points
feast on colour
connect the dots
I look behind
savour the best
then look ahead
to face the worst

And all the countless
in betweens
I try to fill
with endless reams
of lists of things
that I should do
All to stopper
thoughts of you

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because

when I saw you
words bubbled
to the surface
reflecting universes
of all that never was
and would never be

a modest supposition

We
who cherish
the hope of finding
that rare hidden gem
often redefine
the common or vulgar
as special
to make our effort
to grab its attention
worthwhile 

Perhaps we
are the gems
that long to be found
worthy of attention
amongst all
the tinsel and noise

maybe then

perhaps when the last item of clothing
worn in your presence
is threadbare and forgotten 

when I’ve changed job
and the walls that contain me 

when my daily route
filled with the thought
of seeing you at one end
is definitively altered

when I’ve moved
the orientation of my bed
and the pillow that absorbed
those dreams
so the morning beams from a different angle 

when I’m emptied of words to describe all the spaces you left behind 

when I no longer recognize
my face or the place I stand in
or do any of those things
I did with a heart full of you 

perhaps then
I will have moved on

back seat

I wanted to create
but I cleaned and arranged
and sat and listened instead
It’s less important
than others’ needs
when all is but in my head
Their words rang loud
and clear as signs
of a rail crossing up ahead
And what could I say
that could count in the swell
of a train speeding on its way
I’m a humbler fumbler
still trailing in the smoke left behind
An outlying liar sitting silent
lest I not count for much in the end
I’ve tried to sing and speak words
and spur others to take a chance
Leave what’s best for what’s true
─║eave what’s safe for what’s right
but I convinced no one

do not print these on your t-shirt

when all your firsts
have been coerced,
nostalgia is more bitter than sweet

sooner or later
all unrewarded behaviour
however good, will cease

if all endings
were new beginnings
no one would mourn them much

still I make the best
of the next best thing
though it never mesures up

perseverance is praised
only when it pays off
else it’s harassment or waste

now all I want
is to be surprised
but in a really good way

fine words

Those were perfectly fine
last words chosen to define
the space between
where we were
and are
and won’t be
But there were words
I swirled in my head
and rolled in my throat
never reaching my tongue
to pass from my lips to yours
words swallowed back to emerge
from my fingers
imprinting stains on my heart
on their way to a page
that remains as indifferent
to them as you

honest bio

X lives with her husband and two kids in a house that is bit bigger than their needs, though they share it with their cat and the creatures he hasn’t yet managed to kill. X has a job she likes and does well enough to be appreciated without making a fuss.
X has done lot of different and some unexpected things but never long enough or well enough to be exceptional at any of them, and has thus not been bestowed any awards or distnctions, though she has applied and coped decently with numerous rejections.
She avoids conflict as it usually leaves her in a dimished position, so she swallows back globs of anger and frustration, and bile sometimes rises to make her jokes and smiles too bitter to be liked by most people.
She laughs loud and sings softly under her breath, and her most significant and intense experiences have been mostly in her head. Lately she has been battling the loss of expectation and desire but still fondles hope like a smooth pebble in her pocket before it too is lost. X is extraordinarily ordinary and worth little mention but a bio is customary and as she is usually just bypassed when she tries to stand purposefully apart, she acquiesced this time.

this jester’s end

I told you of thorns
in my side
and pebbles in my shoe
of flakes slowly falling
dithering my views
of lines crossing
coin tossing
the names for snow
just to show
I had one for you
and all those lies
just to deny
rocks’ molten birth
and all you were worth

I drew up pictures
dissected views
offered comments on the news
I sang of pains
and gains and losses
posted signs
on paper crosses
set afloat to reach you

then i sat
and quietly yearned
to know of what
you may have learned
or simply that you’d heard
in my words
something to stir in you
some wonder or just
raise you from your slumber
and then one day
to my dismay
you finally came on out to say–
thank you for all that you gave
now please kindly go away

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