hope is a reflection
held in a tear
drop. a mention
of beauty in
a wet ball of fear
or sadness. when
all seems unfit,
a reminder that here
is Nature with
a warm touch of beauty
to quell the despair.

No, I'm not scared
of monsters under my bed,
I'm scared of monsters
inside my head.

The monsters keep reminding
me of mistakes I've done
and people who have hurt me
in the past
making me cringe as I cuff
my hands on my ears, but still
they make no difference, the voices
just get louder and louder.

I scream begging them to
to be silent but they just
do a quick hush and whisper
even more cruel things
and this is where
I wish I was a child again
because when I screamed
everything became silent
and there weren't really
any monsters.

They tell me,
Home:
is where my grandfather
was born, when home,
is wherever
I feel whole.


They tell me,
I live where I don’t belong.
When who I am,
is the sum
of what I've seen
and heard, and
felt and learned
from those around me,
and those
now long gone.


They tell me,
My  people will not unite,
will not grow aware,
will not make reform,
when hope,
hope for a better world,
is what I’ve been granted,
by the efforts
witnessed here.
Witnessed at home.


They tell me,
she will sink,
cease to exist.
But Jeddah,
you are everlasting,
deep within our souls.

Can there be light when it's dark?
Can someone never have a scar or a lasting mark?
Can an innocent child awaken from an unfair death?
Can someone swim underwater, and not need to catch a breath?
Can there be sunshine when it's pouring rain?
Can a lion and a bunny play as one in the same?
Can someone live their life without ever breaking a heart?
Can someone erase all their mistakes, and make a new start?
Can there be a person, who has never once cried?
Can their perhaps be a person, who never will die?
Can a world with so much evil ever have peace?
Can everything so bad just remarkably cease?
Can there be a newborn baby who can walk and not fall?
Can there be a person who can answer any question at all?

When I feel afraid of leaving
everything I know,
I know I’ll still have this, wherever I go:

the air against my skin
these songs
the lowering sun
my heart, beating faster,
my breath
blood coursing as I run,
and this:

I see beauty everywhere.

I've lived my life 
In an eternity 
Of the inbetween 
Almost great 
But not good enough, 
Almost thin 
But not skinny enough 
Almost popular 
But not liked enough 
There, in my reach, 
In my sight, close enough to touch,taste, feel 
Is perfection 
The simplicity of the easy 
Of the perfect, 
of the complete 
So Here's to the in-betweens
Who have lived there lives
Being normal
But not good enough to be accepted.
I reach in front of me,
And I see a reflection of myself.
All I see is one million years of work,
Someone who will never be loved.
We are all made of love
And yet I cannot seem to love myself.
Others love me,
Some do not.
I am not the shy girl who hides in the corner
Or the loud funny one.
I am the calm,
Right before the storm;
The swaying of the trees
On an August morning;
I the clouds,
Covering the beautiful sunset.

(oh, if you don't like lengthy-reads, do not read any further.. thank you)





how I long to hear you
I am silent now
just like you


1.
from the curtain rail, hang paper-butterflies in gentlest-breeze
you made for us in vacation-time
we loved living and being with you
      so quiet and so serene
never loud, nor ever shouting
you gave us the love we often had to steal at home


2.
dear lady, when our parents couldn't cope
they dumped us at your door
you took us in for days on end
and how we flourished in your care

momma in her perfumed get-up.. always out and about
I couldn't stand her smell
she hardly took the time of day.. to get to know her own
they quarreled all the time
one time, we saw her pull in ugly-anger, a knife on him
      and he punched her hard in the face
      we-took-it-in.. the three of us
      they saw us standing there, looking on
I tried to shield the younger ones' eyes
but the lesson sank in.. thickly


3.
so, off to you.. we got bundled, like hastily-wrapped parcels
and you took us in
and we gleaned the worth of stability

you spoke to us in quiet-tone:
right, now we will read.. alright, my dears?
    we responded with three silent nods
    eyes up at you.. like open-flowers
    our smiles inside slowly blossomed
as a powerful-routine came to life

sit us down near koi-pond in the yard
     after milk and choc-chip cookies
     green dappled shade-cloth overhead and potted plants
she opened up a book - Gift from the Sea.. and she read
     we listened with rapt-souls, open and accepting
     drinking in the delight of her well-intoned voice
she tempered that sickly-void with deep-respect and lasting-admiration

how we filled the hours with your special-technique of patience
        we discover life.. along with title and the author
        one buck to read the first sentence of a new book
        two for first paragraph
        five for first page
we earned a keep to last a jolly ol' lifetime
looked forward to the end of every weekend
when we'd spend the week with you
off to school, you saw our tiny-feet and welcomed in the afternoon
      warm greetings with firm hand, discipline fell in place
      but when chores are done and homework, too
that's the time we'd settle quietly into the routine you set so well

cushions at the koi-pond and each one gets a turn
granny-dear, granny-doer.. you took the time
you read to us and we read to you
and then, we read to one another.. while you did your tasks
        we learnt of the classics and many obscure artists, too
        writers' names became familiar; we discussed at length
        and from your fine library, came three very well-fed beings
who each had a jar filled with love-pennies and mind-notes

tranquil-nap in dimmed-room in the afternoon
eyes sunlight piercing through in stippling-slants on polished wooden-floor
we fell into peace

thinking expanded beyond the lore of words
you'd engage the width of our seeker-imagination with so much
         drawing fine-lines into the unknown
         and paper-mâché and Rorschach-ink
         and let us see how earthworms could be useful
         and transplanting our seedlings from disposable egg-cups
by my teens, my special botany-project grew: orange saplings
how the time, it flew.. weeks and months.. years..


4.
then, one day, our momma said.. no more time at granny
          we questioned and we queried, but to poor avail
          evasive-looks met our searching eyes
and vague answers, even poppa with the *****-glaze didn't talk
we failed to swallow their awkward-energy

the three of us could take no more: affection interfered
      and I took two buses and snuck out to her place
I crept in silent, found her resting
but her eyes were covered up
      her face had blue blotches and cheeks were puffy
sharp-inhale!
      I shrank perforce and cried inside.. and softly touched her hand
she woke up, startled and turned away
     but she knew it was me; she'd learnt my smell so long ago
bowing my head, I gently wiped her brow with unscented-towelette
and I saw her shoulders shaking
she quietly accepted my comfort


5.
the routine continued, thankfully
after we got wind of what really happened
how you were mugged in the subway on your way to work
you've lost the use of one eye and you now slump on one leg
this fall in health did nothing to dampen your ardour
       we read for you when you could no longer see at all
       and when your pensioner-status made you penniless
       you rewarded us with hugs pressed into the psyche
       our night-time pitter-patter slipping to you from nightmares
       and you stitched our broken-pieces and sealed our cracked-assurance
never finer devotion bred from hands so kind


6.
you let us read and it sparked the mind
the penny kept on rolling with great success
long after you left
    my brother now lectures in languages
    and guest-speaks at many places of higher-learning
    and my sister became a lawyer
I became a drop-out early on, but I never sold my dream
I struggled with their help.. yes, I know.. I was always slower
and melted-crayons still do yield.. colour in the twilight of cool-eve

yes, and I bought a farm not long ago
and I tend my own keep
granny, you'd be proud of us
three silent nods to an angel in disguise


now, I stand here.. quiet in my beautiful-orchard of oranges
              stare at the leopard-changing shadows on the tiles
and long to read for you
so, I open up a dream lying next to my koi-pond, an auburn-tail flicks handsomely
and it all spills forth in reams..



can you hear me now?
in silent-vow, I unveil the finest of my heart-words
to you..




S T, 2 January 2013

Silently dark,
The night it seems,
Worry-some shadows,
A trick of the eyes,
The air is fresh,
Air which only comes out,
To look at the sky with me,
The stars brighter than normal,
The moon,
beautiful,
The night time,
I love it.

Have you ever made
fun of the way people
walk, what they say,
or how they talk?

Have you ever laughed
at another one's hair,
or because someone
else was square?

Have you ever stared
at another one's feet,
at what some wear,
or what people eat?

Have you ever laughed,
at another fellow
because of the way
he eats jello?

If you have, your not
nice you see, you should
care, it could be you
that gets that stare.

Everyone is special
including you
in what we say
or what we do.