Sunday, 30 March 2014


Air of mystery clings to the greying fog that clouds your view on life perspectives. So, it is surely time to transport ourselves away from this colourless scene and to jump into something so warm and different. Away from the ominous HP Lovecraft. We'll say 'hip-hooray' for all the newness that is to follow. Where are we off to first my adventurous companion, there's far too much choice but we have to start somewhere.

First, let's set the table to the music of our hearts, a harmonica and a good beat that my fingers could never keep up for long. That's what friends are for, to keep the drum drumming when you have lost sense of the world around you. Is that a simple change of heart? Whatever the weather you'll be there, truer than ever. I can hear your constant strumming and as I close my eyes it soothes me in a way that I've not felt for a while. I can hear some laughter already, it looks to be a great time. Clattering of wooden chairs and the soft thud of cushions and floor rugs. There's a consistency in the blending of these sounds that is so marvellous it cannot be truly put into words, though any reader will know immediately what the writer is trying (badly but without a care!) to get at.

Now! Let us transform the weather. Whilst mystery can be exciting and snow can be fabulous and rain can fall fantastic (only to rehash one of my favourite lines). There is something about a warm, glowing hidden sunshine that is of a comfort so tender to our bodies and minds. It is too early to light the candles, but we will, we will get to that later I promise! I'm noticing all of you arriving, we're in our everyday lives and this is our time.

There's a lot of swirling around and a floppy hat obscuring vision as it swerves in time with the motion. A flash of red florals here and there. Flashes of golden enigma. Maybe a small caught corner smile. Catch her and kiss her, feel the softness of her lips and the taste of love that fills you up and sets you ready to go back on the road again. You don't have to go anywhere, but with her holding your hand you are unstoppable and more ready than before. This is no lust or greed, this is a breath of fresh air. Drink in deep and close your eyes as a clarity descends you that you didn't know you needed. Open up and the first thing that greets you, a smile. A good way to start the day.

I know I'm not supposed to indulge these maladaptions, but sometimes there is a beauty that is better than the present reality of life's is. "It's going to be just fine." I don't know how many hundreds of times I have said that to myself in the past few weeks. I think there's a power in the words not growing threadbare and loosing their potency. I want to go out and lie down, watching the stars with you. Just like you asked so very long ago, you said that's the best way to see them. Will you wake up to the sound of a beating heart? There's a closed book and an endless fountain of questioning cases, though let's keep the interrogation out of it. No 3rd degree required. We're not talking as much but I can still hear you. One of a few lights in the darkness of this lonely journey. Finding myself a little more, who am I.    

I've spent a lot of time considering how painful I find the many outlooks on love that are laid out in front of me. I let them wash over me, because I could not ever disagree so fervently about anything. There is a lot about being and a lot about seeing, even a lot about the self. My tales of daring and danger, they are not as dangerous as some of the hardship these other loves seems to bring. Perhaps it has a lot to do with contentment, not settling but just flowing like a breeze lifting the flowers heads in a gentle summertime transition. There is a real ethereal nature to my love, that is also so tangible and rock solid. Transcend this realm, taking my hand we will leave this place a little long while and be kept carefully in an expanse of inclined enchantment. Yes, it really is that easy. The threads of you are so beautiful. We are our own pattern. Interwoven and connected.   

Because love like this lasts more than forever. In knowing that I am home, still. 

Wednesday, 19 March 2014

In the Silence

I am snapped telephone lines, cut by the storm. Threatened by lightning and the outcome of disobedience.

I am the train pelting through the tunnel at one-hundred-miles-per-hour. No stops for anyone, the passengers learn to wait.

I am darkness in the night sky. Aided by the electronic sky line. Pollution to remind you that the stars are too good for what lurks here.

I am the sound in the wind, longing for you to listen. The silent scream that you convince yourself you 'didn't' hear.

I am the trap that lies in wait. Silent and deadly, tread lightly where you fall. I take prisoners with little mercy. I should tighten as you struggle to be free.

I am the ground that awaits and awakens the flash flood. Waiting for the rains to fall, ready to fulfil my natural purpose. Torrent released by the most innocent act of falling raindrops. I couldn't warn you beforehand, not that I tried.

I am the melting glacier. Falling apart for no apparent reasons, other than the ones staring you in the face. The facade of glitter blinding you to all that is twisted beneath; 'symptoms of soullessness'.

I am the red pen. The one that tells you, you are no good. You've failed. Try harder, though there is no promise of a next time.

I am the shadow that will always follow you. I will stand by whatever happens, bad or good. I have no judgement but also no conscious morality. Watching you will never and always be alone.

I am the nuee ardente. I will glow and shoot up to fine fascination. But I am deadly to all that I touch.

I am lost hope. I am no sun on a dark day.

I am nobody. I am the somebody stranger. The one you feel an unease around as soon as you arrive, but "who's going to believe you?"

I am the voice that keeps you up at night. Storing memories that are better left unsaid, but I load them and point them directly at your head.

I am the burning wreckage atop the mountain, or smashed into a million tiny pieces and sinking deeper, deeper to the bottom of the water. Graves that have no graces. No songs will be sung of honour and remembrance in this place.

I am the trees in the forest, who scare you, but I cannot help it. Misconstrued scarily, beautiful features are what set me apart from the ordinary of my competition. I cure your disease but only so few should bother to look at me twice.

I should choose to do nothing about the nothing that I can do. I cannot lead you astray, nor the right way. Will you forgive me, eternally so?

Waiting, just left here waiting in a silence so cold. Seasons will pass, leaves falling yet I will remain the same. Sat withered underneath. Should you choose to take up your promise and show me to love again, pick them off carefully by hand. One by one, we shall find our way back to before and the now.

Monday, 10 March 2014

If You Wait

To spindly legs, tip tapping, down a very long road - seeming at times to be the longest road in the world with all those houses (all 44 of them). Balmy air (our favourite) that fills the evening, the smell you can't find a name for but it is softly pleasant and fits the tone of what is ahead well. The canvas above us has not yet faded from the blue of the day, transporting us back to the beauty of the west and the excitement that can be in store for this evening sunset.

You're both a little nervous, it has been a while. A while from this. Months of crossing little violet X's on the calendar. They stood out in a way that was not as final as the black or red markers that decide fate and future. Of course, only if you believe in that kind of thing. Go through your whole life holding little mantras - make one of them that actions don't necessarily have to define who you are, not for you, not ever.

Waiting so patiently and the occasional small smile. The evening began the moment it was planned, but it is only now that it feels real. As hands fumble and that is okay, finally. Arrive at old places that seem new. Night fading in from evening, you stop to watch it together, the sun waving you good lucks and smiling because he knows it will all be okay. She does too. It's just where to start. Both so comfortable in silence that it is hard to break the comfortable spell it casts. Sat so calmly, peacefully. Fancy dinners not really our scene but every so often it is so wonderful to find a space so unfamiliar but welcoming.

Candle set in place, perfectly in the middle. Move it aside and make space for the hands and focused eyes. Lit from the side by an unflickering, unfaultering interest. No need for flowers when we are growing so neatly together, woven stems and leaves straining towards the brightest light. One that was shut out for quite some time. Smiling turns into talking, the conversation so smooth and so easily - filling up glasses so neatly. Trickling laughter, turning radiant and natural. Hearts glowing, warm and beating red. The wine in our glasses barely drunk as the topics are too interesting to have time to swallow. Back and forth, then pause as we soak up the moment and order. Only realised now how ravenous our appetites. Not eaten this well for months and so enjoy every minute as much as every mouthful. Soul fed, body warmed, heart beating, butterflies flutter. Firework fuse to be lit - they say don't run with fire but the man with the burning torch is hurting towards that string, unable to wait for one moment longer. 

There's a determination that set both hearts a light again. Sometimes no ignition is required it just happens again and we are reminded of why love is so intrinsic, powerful, kind. Just gone elsewhere for a while, a necessity that whilst painful is a means for growth and even greater trust to blossom. Spring is coming soon, look for those cherry trees, soft pinks and whites that gently remind us of the beauty that we are to become. So much more is a head, we are golden. This was meant to be part of our journey. Of course, that is if you wait and want this too. I am so sure of you, of us.

My Mother bought me a calendar that offers one piece of advice for each day of the year. How fitting it is that today's should read this:
"Give your sweetheart a kiss that lasts a week."
I will endeavour to do more than that, I want to give you a lifetime, not just one week. This year is not our year, I can wait even with the brimming excitement. The pain comes and goes, but it is slowly fading and I am slowly sleeping a little better. It just takes time. Time that I do have to give to you. Let's not get a head of ourselves, that is what I remind myself of, we have a ways to go yet. We are miles away from the scene above. I will trust in time that we will meet again. Crossing those days off, an end for one and our rebirth. Nevertheless, you are my sweetheart in my own heart, and so Happy Birthday for today, you are so very loved X