Holiday Wishes

Give me a sign so I can start the healing,
We shared the wine around the yearly meeting.

As I don’t want to be lonely this holiday,
I’m taking off my shoes and giving my body to the homeless.

I’d give you my remaining years to be alone with you, for a minute of your time,
To give you one last kiss goodbye and a warm embrace under the leaf dappled light.

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On Health and Safety: Part 1

Q.1. A strong light has been misplaced so that it shines directly onto your computer screen.  What problems can this cause you?

Please select one of the answers below

a. The light isn’t warm enough to crack the dragon’s egg that has been
carefully placed on the desk.  The light needs to be turned around, with the
main focus of the beam on the top half of the egg, to ensure that the dragon
gets enough vitamin D.  This is so that the baby can crack through the toughened egg shell once it has grown enough.

b. The light has taken the form of a forgotten nightmare and thus
stirs in your soul a form of deep dread.  You break down crying in
the office, demanding that your line manager produces a bucket of drugs to
calm you down.  You lose your job and, eventually, your hair due to the
recurrent nightmares.

c. The light is so bright that it blinds not just your eyes but also the
eyes of the people either side of you.  You thought that this may occur at
some point in your much vaunted office career so you took careful
preparation and learned braille on your free nights.  You laugh in disdain
as your so-called office friends scream for help and you carry on with your
work as any good office worker would.

d. You bloody move the light!

Journal 10/09/15

Every night the front cover of my diary asks me ‘Who are you?’ and every night I struggle to articulate myself, to justify myself to myself.  Lyric after devastating lyric falls from the speaker and I want to share this moment with you, I want to bask in the radiance of your love for this artist.  I find myself driving along at night knowing that if I don’t take the turn off for home, I will not ever stop this journey north. The trumpets herald, but I am not sure what they signify.  I miss you.  Will this job ever end, will I ever escape this office?  How do I break free of my own body.  What are those birds thinking, soaring so high in the sky, eyeing each other, safety in numbers perhaps?  The land meets the sea, the sea meets the sky, the sky holds the stars.  Everything that has ever lived, nearly everything that has ever lived, is here on this planet, on this pinprick in the sky.  Where have you gone though, when will I cross that eternal divide?

I miss you.

This is the thought that is at the forefront of my thoughts, that one that pervades the bitterness of being here, of comforting your family when all I want is to say how much I loved you to you directly.

I miss you.

Did I ever mourn my lost family members enough?  Should I feel guilt now, why has this struck me so hard?  Why does this artist so move me to tears nearly every day.  Their music touches me like nothing else, a lightening bolt connecting the living and the dead.  I hate and I love.  I just want to say to my father, to my mother, hold me.  Hold me.  I miss you.  My elbow is dirty again, how can I scrub so hard yet it not get any cleaner?  I can feel the metal attached, drilled deep into my bones.  I can feel the plates and the rods pressing against my skin, the metalwork that keeps me standing and grounds me, that completes my alien body amongst this landscape of beauty, this hidden careworn ugliness.  I am jealous of your walk in the woods, your walk up the hills, your walk down the concrete slabbed route to town.

I miss you.

What is death when life is complicated enough.  What is life when death is eternal.  The great divide, never knowing just what it is that separates this from that.

Falling Leaves

I feel that we have entered the autumn of our years.  The lines on the faces of the people have become that much deeper, that bit more entrenched.  The smile that was once gaily upturned now twists downward into a sneer, a hint of malice behind the mask that has slipped, bit by bit, over the years.

No longer do we embrace by the waters in the park, but we huddle in small groups by the gravestones of the dead.  Memories that are only temporarily locked in stone and will eventually be dispersed by the soil.

What once passed for love now passes for fear.

What have we become?  What have we denied?

The commonality of life, shared by all that breathe, live and love, is slowly being replaced.  There are dark patches on the map of this world.  Let us not now welcome them into the light of day.  Keep them on the periphery, where they belong, where we need to keep them.

Autumn, as cold as that bitter season can be, can also be beautiful.