paints
their blend capabilities
to make the sky right
on canvas
how hard was it for nature?

Archie and Gigs,
Slow dancing, toes touching,
Maybe what,
The tenth Christmas song in a row,
Peanut shells crunch under their soft shoes,
The bar clock slips past midnight,
Her arms in a loose noose around his neck,
His hands on that perfect powder puff *** of hers,
Sentimental embezzlers,
God he loved the feel of her cheeks in his hands,
Made him feel like he’d achieved something
With this pathetic life of his,
Didn’t matter how bruised he was,
When she walked into the room,
He smiled,
Every **** time
And well *******
If that weren’t the signature of love,
Then ,as Archie often said,
He would eat pigeon crumbs and throw his shoes in the East river
And although nobody could quite figure what he meant by that,
Gigs knew he’d sooner stop breathing, than miss one dance with her,
He’d rather live in the trunk of a car full of spiders and bats,
(Which he did one early weekend to prove his love to her,
Archie said love had to be demonstrated or it was just phony *******,
Anybody can say stuff Archie said but a real man always takes action)
,
And harsh truth, she was ****** hooked
On the old ******,
Her poet , her man, her rare and rough ,
It just felt too **** good to see that smile,
That twinkle, the sly eye and his hands fit her *** perfectly
So could there be any better proof
That they were they.

One more Archie asked
And Gigs did her sigh with the horse flutter at the end
And Archie, smiling like a buzz saw
Lifted her off her feet and knew he was alive

With the day after Christmas
We return to the normality
Of me not looking at you
And you not talking to me

With hands deep in our pockets
Holding tight the spare change
Where we don't lose what little we've got
Or give too much away

Where all that is seen
Is the blind destiny
As I climb over you
On the rung of what's in it for me

With the day after Christmas
We're back to where we were
Not trying to be
Such good boys and girls

Where a grudge I unwrap
And think bad about you
Wait a minute that
Was the day before too

Where we take peace on Earth
And good will towards men
And pack it away
For another year

Where the Government
Sends us back to the war
With no earthly idea
Of what we're fighting for

Where we don't listen
To the cries of the children
As all of this happens
The day after Christmas

I have to say
I truly underestimated you
I thought you would bring light rain
And then drift out to sea
But you brought so much more
How naive of me
Things were fine before you
I had my own room
My privacy
My life
And then came October 8th
And you washed away everything that was right
We lost everything
Treasures I had since I was a kid
One month later
I still don't know where my **** diploma is
I miss the peace
I miss my bed
I miss the stuffed animals that I couldn't save
Because they were too ******* wet
I am not home anymore
I lived in that house since I was 3
And those memories got washed away
Along with everything else dear to me
At times, I feel helpless
Consumed by my fears
What am I to say
While comforting my mom while she is in tears
My dogs don't know what's going on
They just know that things are not okay
All I can do is hold them
Because they don't understand
You took my childhood home
You took sanity
You stole every Saturday night when
We would watch ghost stories as a family
You took hearing the dogs bark
When dad got home from me
I am now terrified of the rain because
You took all sense of normality
I now sleep in an unfamiliar bed
No ghost stories on Saturday night
No barking dogs at the sound of dad's truck
All this quiet just doesn't feel right
I miss the sound of the channel 11 news
After mom got home
The same story playing over and over again
I'd give anything to be stuck in that routine
All those things used to seem so insignificant
I miss them more than anything
I guess I have you to thank
For making me appreciate the small things...

Arriving at the event,
His words replay in my head:
“Don’t be shy, be polite,
And just act like a normal person.”

Excuse me, what did you just say?
Act like a normal person?
Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?

How does one act normal?
There’s no such thing as normal.

I think I know what you mean,
But you didn’t use the right words.
You say “act normal” but you really mean
“Blend in, be white noise, don’t stand out.”

How dare you tell me to ‘act normal’.
I want to be many things in life, but normal isn’t one of them.
I want to be brilliant, beautiful, loved, successful,
Talented, joyful, charitable, selfless.

I want to be so many things in this big world,
But normal is not one of them.
I refuse to accept to blend into the crowd.

I’m not normal.
I’m just me.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

.
She sits for most of the time,
in a metal chair with wheels.
Counting out the value of life
with an injury that never heals.

She waits for most of the time,
to confirm that she is really there.
But how many people notice her
sat down in her wheel-chair.

She's invisible for most of the time,
she is there but nobody spies.
So she spreads her tiny wings
and floats unnoticed to the skies.

She cried for most of the time,
always alone and lonely in a crowd.
Now flying free her spirit rises,
there's no discrimination in the clouds.


© Pagan Paul (25/12/16)

my mother is both my stagehand
and my audience.
when the stage lights burn out,
she will be there to drive the darkness
back into the corners.
when the flimsy backdrop crumbles,
she will build a new world for me
while cleaning up the ruins of the old.
she will wipe the exaggeration from my face,
and still applaud when I am myself.

my mother is both the moon and the sun.
her voice brightens the cloudiest days
and her laughter is a warm embrace.
out of all of the stars in the galaxy,
she is the one that keeps me alive.
when the day comes to an end,
and all I can see is night,
she will pull back the waves
when I feel like I am drowning.

my mother is everything.
she is the water that nourishes these roots.
she is the reason love grows
from this family tree.