No one but no one should not have love

Whoever they may be.

They don’t deserve it

Who would like to miss out on laughs
and tears
fights
and wars going on in the head.

Roast beef a la mum,
turkey Sandwiches a la dad  
and- if lucky- break fast in bed.

Ball
With your brother from another mother
All those sisters
who will always come before those  misters.

And
if there is
one thing
you should
know:

Love is the epitome of war.

Shakespeare ruled it,
but was he a no one?

And we sometimes
-not always-
forget.

A no one is a some one.
Who  has a beating heart.
So make sure no one has no one,
Now
Is the time to start.

I remember the summer holidays.
The heat intense without air conditioning.
Our days passed by on that old swing set,
weather beaten to a faded green.
We’d build houses out of boxes
our mother would never let us take home.
My sister called your home “the fun house”.
I would say “plastic fantastic”.
We’d build vintage dirt bikes in the garage,
eat apple pies for dessert,
and fall asleep beneath the peach tree.

I remember the escape,
when home was too violent.
You once told me you stopped drinking
so you could always be there when we needed you.
And you were.
To distract.
To listen.
To protect.

I remember the way you cradled me that night
as blood flowed from my wounds,
and the way you sat beside me in the hospital for hours
and never complained.
To distract.
To listen.
To understand.

I remember your chair
and the sadness I felt when we were not there.
My mind riddled with images of you in that house,
lonely and alone.
I knew your heart ached. I felt it.
I knew your smile a façade. I saw it.
Overworked for a life that never came to be.
Groundhogs day for 13 years.

I remember that shipping container in the driveway,
accumulating your possessions
one
    by
      one.
I remember the brisk autumn morning
driving you to the train station
with your makeshift bag from rope, tape and plastic.
The weight of the grief that fell from my eyes
too heavy to hold.
I remember how you walked away,
and never looked back.

Here, I stand in the wooden doorway
of the house now empty.
The memories pounding against the walls.
Your chair remains in the corner.
It still smells of you.
Words of love fall from my lips
and I close the door,
to what was,
and what is
no longer.

Smokes and cigarette cartons all about the place.
Empty milk bottles and their stench brings back the taste.
My hell in the sky, bring my body back home to come and play.
Mommy, are you busy dying, I'm a little hungry today.

Sadistic little me, fancy sitting on a chair.
Crazy big you with the damp and messy hair.
Will you give me your attention, I can't make out your expression,
Over there?
I love you, please light up so I can sit and
Stare.

Kick down the door, it's gotten much harder to keep our spirits up.
I can tell that after this evening your a little down on feeding us.
You can't stand to see yourself and I treated here this way.
Could you tell me where you hid my toys, I'm a little bored today.

But it's hot outside.
and your skins turned pale.
He's off at work after beating you this morning and freshly out of jail.
Bruises clout your eyes as I remember everything.
We've been in this house since I can't remember when.

And I remember. I remember it all.
I remember when the bloodstains pooled and stained our kitchen floor.
I remember when your screams crept in and ran about the room.
I remember peeking through the doorway to see what had happened to you.

I remember.
I remember where we stand.
And I remember to this day, taking you there, hand in hand.
My other hand on my bottle, yours covering your face.
I remember those little words that i had spoke to you that day.

"Mom, the toast is done."

And like that, it all fell into a dream.
Life began to course that way into a ****** seem.
He walked out and you fell to the ground without much to say.
They came to the house and took me far and far away.
Life had then forgotten you and broke into your house.
He shot you without prerogative and let you bleed out.
Oh mother, answer me how can anyone get through this pain.
You lived another day just to take leave anyway.
You broke down.
In tears when you saw me again.
I put to you that I would always love you to the end.
It was 8 years later from when the toast had finished cooking that day.
You took to the bed at dinner, and your bible to go and pray.
And I felt your embrace smother me with warmth through out.
You were skint with your money and very prone when angry to shout.
Only fair to say I could see you crumble a little more each day.
Till the funny farm took you in and drugged your ****** mind astray.

Now I pray, only to myself.
That I won't leave your love at the doorstep and take it without doubt.
You may be more damaged heartland that failed to believe.
I find it difficult to find inside a heart for me.

And we broke out.
We broke into a fight.
Every word  I punctured further into you as the moon into the night.
I should have kept going I should have broke your spirit down.
I never should have pity for that heart you swing about.
Now I have a brother who was in the position I was in.
Now your bruised and he's telling you to be sure make for him.

"Mom, the toast is done."

I **** on your grave for I have had too much to drink!
A glass 'o ginger beer and shrimp crackers I ate today.
Thou art not to fall! To tartuffery for a drink is as good as the last.
But alas, I am not to drink.
For my heart is heavy with woe.
Those stoics! They bring me much misery.
Oh the stoics, with their logically given truths that are naught but prejudice! Prejudice in truth they claim, liars.

Oh the stoics, with their ****** analogies of nature and so fourth.
To be! Like nature, is to be indifferent and prodigal.
That's probably why we love the intelligent uncaring character. He is nature.
She too! O' who's heart is full of love! She brings me roses and kisses upon my lips. She too, is nature. Stupid also, unbelievably crass.
Is crassness then, what we call nature? Then it is he! He! Who bring us our daily news who is unnatural. But then who is the preacher?
No, nature is to live. To live! Hah! A joke! To live is not a command for you cannot conceptualize living without living.
You'd do better as a pretty little scarab, but he doesn't drink ginger beer.

So too, our conclusion is to be natural. But not the scarab. To live, obviously. To be correct! by our own prejudice. And to reject divinely given truths. I do not know how I would feel about children of my own, we'll see when I have one.

I saw you, I heard you.
Today on a screen my future appeared all black, white, and grey.
Nothing at first but bubbles of contrast
swells of innards and technology.
But then I saw you.
Your bones a beautiful highlight,
Our blood; flutters of movement -
Head bowed the two of us saw through your mind.
And then I heard you.
Pounding spikes, white rhythm on black.
Tiny pump like a machine blinking -
My own heart beating faster.
Alive and real, your beat fills the room and echoes through blank pages and clean slates, into empty homes or ones not yet built, cries out in the night with warm comfort and soothing heat.
Now your likeness sits in my pocket
Until the day we meet.

After all the studies,
After all the responsibilities,
After all the love for my Parents,
After all the Good Night wishes,
Here I am.

Lying beside my Pooh; the teddy.

Talking to him about how my day gone,
Telling him about the messed up things,
Telling him about the love I miss from my dad,
Telling him about the care I miss from him,
Telling him how I used to rush when he come,
About how he tolerate my talkings,
About how much I love him.



Sob and Sob


I never know when I slept these days and woke up with my alarm clock.

Laying here once again
In tears, as the room begins to spin.
I shut my eyes and teardrops fall
Once again I'm saying I miss them.

It's funny how family can drive you mad
But once time's spent away from them
You become too sad to function right, without them.

I wipe the tears away
And ignore the spins the best I can.
I know they wouldn't want me crying
When I asked for this to happen.

So I will go to sleep again.

The trees flow in the wind,
perfectly synchronized, dancing in waves
leaves shake as rain scatters onto the road
it is yet another windy, rainy day
i think to myself, standing
i can almost reach out to the rain on the window pane
thinking of my regrets, i reminisce
memories and thoughts flooding through my head
i feel it is my fault for everything
staring at the window pane, looking at my hand's reflection
it leaves a print on the glass, a short, sweet memory of the present
it is yet another windy, rainy day
and i wish you were here with me