Birthday poem for Ruth

When I was younger and smaller, not much older than three, I’d wake with night terrors as scared as could be, Frightened, in a panic, down the dark corridor I fled, To a place I knew was safe... My big sister’s bed. Through music you taught me “the best things in life are free” And I’d attempt the running man whilst you cheered for me. When your favorite color was purple, mine was too! I wanted to be… just like you. So Beautiful, so Kind and so Elegantly tall, I have the bestest big sister of them all. You've taught me so much and I feel so lucky to say, That you are my sister and I love you! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

Beautiful Diane, what can I say, Your moving to Ireland you’re going away, I won’t say I’ll miss you, despite the fact it’s true, I’ll just say, you’re amazing and I love you, I’ll miss your cuddles and your filthy laugh, I’ll miss chatting to you whilst you take a bath, I’ll miss your enthusiasm, your fire & passion, But I’ll remember it with every breath, a true inspiration. Thanks for looking after me and putting vix on my back, And May I always be your only token black. I love your beautiful ballerina feet , And watching misfits with you was a treat. Floppyswordakus was once your name, Mac and cheese, undoubtedly, your claim to fame. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one, Who occasionally gets a bubbly bum, There’s more memories to be made, arh to be sure, In Ireland we’ll dance and drink a lot more. But don’t let the distance fool you my dear, Because in my heart just like always your still right here. So when you need a friend or a good old chin-wag, Whether about work or your latest shag, Give me a call and make my day, Because the truth is I’m sad you’re going away.

Atoms and Matter

Eyes of the world close on yet another day,
The ocean sighs relief, lost for words to say.
Wind turns stone to sand, as earth becomes man.
And all that was before will be again once more,
Ever growing, ever changing.
But all that was before will be again once more.

As the day dawns the sun gets out of bed,
Never growing tired of what lays ahead.
While zombies squander the daily gift of life,
Clueless offspring are left to pay the price.
A beautiful cycle drowning in greed.
some take what they want never mind what they need.
As he breathes his last breath, he slips from sight,
But he still remains like stars on a cloudy night.

Things that live in the fridge

Today her main task was to gut the kitchen. The very thought of cleaning out the fridge both repulsed and excited her at the same time. It was something that definatley needed to be done, but she wasn't sure she was the one to do it. The kitchen was far from hygenic. Cats, dogs, flies and god knows what else, all lived in harmony amongst the food. The cats were the only ones tolerated in the kitchen however, because they were hunting the resident mouse. This definatley wasn't a job for the faint hearted, but she rolled up her sleeves and got stuck in anyway.
As she prized each condiment from the kicthen side, insects appeared and disapeared just as quickly. The satisfying end result combined with the smell of bleach made it well worth it.
next up was the fridge. When she opened the door she was met with a sour musky smell that filled the nostrils and tested her gag reflexes. She wasn't sure if the smell was old fish or old cheese or both, either way she would soon find out so she held her breath and began procariously removing items from the fridge...To be Continued...

First impressions/Canoa Intergration 13/09/11

After spending the best part of a day wondering aimlessly around the ghost like village of Canoa, I finally met Mike the motorcycle guy. A 50´something American, with a smile as big as his beer belly, came to sit at my table in the Surf Shak. He had road all the way down from San Francisco on his bike, when it finally gave up on him just outside of Canoa and so he decided to stay. I had seen him around, but his pungent aroma of beer made me somewhat wary of this unfamiliar character. Soon after we got talking I realised that whilst lost in my presumptions I had completely forgotten rule No 1. Never judge a book by its cover.
Let me take this moment to explain something to you. When one travels alone, they have an instinctive guard which is raised more so than when travelling with a friend. This is because both mind and body become aware that it has only the self to rely on and so protective instincts kick in. And so finding the balance between intuition and instinct becomes a continuous struggle. Being open enough to still meet people and enjoy yourself, but not so much that all common sense goes out the window.
. Mike had been in Canoa for the past three months and considering it size, his extensive knowledge of the place was understandable. We exchanged travel stories and somewhere along the line the subject of what day it was came up. When I informed him it was Tuesday I was greeted with the same reaction I´d expect from a child if I said it was Christmas.
"It´s Tuesday, are you serious? Awwww heck, I can´t believe it! It´s Tuesday! My retirement fund comes through today! Geez thanks Hayley. Thanks a lot."
Never before have I ever met someone so genuinely happy to hear it was Tuesday. As the evening progressed he introduced me to a few friendly faces in the community as if I was his daughter in need of looking after. When the night was through we shook hands and as I began my short walk home I reflected on the evenings happenings. Once again life had taught me something which I thought I had already learnt. And just as pawns on a chess board do not get to decide their next move we too cannot choose which lessons to learn. So this was my gentle reminder that first impressions are only lasting for those who don´t have the time of day.

The windows to the soul 12/09/11

As eyes interlock, the windows to the soul, bodies merge as one, neither in control.
And as she sighs he gasps, breathing her scent in, wishing to taste her everything, as they lay there skin to skin. And as he holds her close, wrapped in his tight embrace, their hearts beating together, both at the same pace. She gazes up at him and looks into his eyes, for never before in her life, has she ever felt so alive.

the meaning of life

And so it was that once again she found herself gazing hopelessly out the window with tears glistening across her cheeks, like the stars across the night sky. Could it be that once again the moment had passed and once again she couldn't quite grasp its reins and so just let it slip through her fingers like the sands of time. The reason she cried was not because she was sad to be leaving but simply because she was afraid that she wouldn't remember this moment as clearly as she did right now. She knew that over time her memory would fade and she would forget the smaller details that all added to life's magic. Like the sweet taste of Avena or the distant sound of the local fish monger selling "Camerones" in the background. Everyday bought a new experience and a new feeling. Everyday she had learnt something new about herself. The trouble was she had grown and changed so much that she was no longer sure of herself or how to be who she thought she once was. With this growth came a new wave of uncertainty. Yet at the same time came one thing she was sure of... life was beautiful. Life had a crazy way of throwing people into unusual situations... those who noticed were the ones riding the waves of life. And of course those who didn't, were the ones with their heads in the sand. Lost deep in reflection of all that had once been, she couldn't help but smile as she remembered what life was all about.

Emily Brown

I awoke with a start, my heart was beating faster than a race horse. As I struggled to regain control of my breathing, I soon realised what had woken me up. A noise which could only be compared to an animal in agony filled my apartment, penetrating the nights peaceful silence. Sitting bolt upright, it quickly dawned on me that the noise was not an animal but in fact Lynsey Fisher, my next door neighbour.

Jumping out of bed, I pulled on my dressing gown and made my way across the hall to her apartment. To my surprise her door was ajar. I braced myself for a split second before pushing the door wide open.

The hall was empty, all except for a rusty hammer which lay lifeless in the middle of the floor. I called sheepishly from the doorway,
"Lynsey? Lynsey are you OK?"
For a moment the screams stopped and then became even louder and more hysterical than before.
Taking a deep breath, I crept towards the deafening wails, hands shaking. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see.
Lynsey sat unnaturally upright in bed, her skin a pasty yellow colour and covered with pink scratches. Her once long and beautiful, brown locks now resembled dread locks and she had patches of hair missing, which were scattered in clumps around her.

"Lynsey. What's happened? What's wrong?"
"Get out! Get the fuck out of here! I don't want you here! GET OUT!", she screamed.

I glanced around the room and noticed the floor and bed were covered in photographs torn to shreds. As I took a step towards her the pungent smell of sweat and urine filled my nostrils.

"What's going on? Tell me what's happened. Look at you your hurt, let me help you", I pleaded.

With this she slowly twisted her head to look at me, her black, empty eyes sent a chill down my spine, stealing the breath from my lungs. What she said next was precise and slow, her lips curled as she spat every word at me, dragging them out like an animal torturing her prey.

"Fuck you. You don' want to know. You think this is a game? You wanna play?" she began laughing uncontrollably.

"What?"

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT! GET OUT NOW!"

Confused and scared I fled from the room. Just as my hand grasped the handle for the front door she called to me.

"What?" I said

"Emily Brown" she moaned.

 

As if someone had knocked me from my feet I fell to my knees, the sound of forks scrapping a plate rang in my ears, every hair on my body stood on end. Acid burned in my throat, as bile rose from my stomach. My body became stiff and as I hit the ground, a cold and dead weight, the last thing I saw was her face.

Dreams

She dreamt of many things in the night, most of which she could not remember. When she stirred in the morning with eyes still shut, the nights misty memories lay vivid in her mind. As soon as she opened her eyes the dreams vanished form sight. Struggling with all her energy to grasp onto the tiniest, minor detail, she tried to explain to him the bizarre happenings of her dream. That which made perfect sense whilst deep in slumber, now seemed to lack any form of conventional flow or order. It was almost as if she hadn't forgotten them but her mouth could no longer form the words to describe the magnificent visions which had previously occurred.

It Burns...

Her eyes misted over. Her throat became dry. She tried to be strong. She tried not to cry.
Her lips began to tremble. Her body began to ache. She tried to smile, but her smile was fake.
She tried to pretend. She tried to carry on. How could the right decision feel so wrong?
The pain submersed her body like acid to the skin. Slowly eroding away, except deep from within.
She knew she had hurt him, She knew he felt the same. It hurt even more to know of his pain.
She was careless. She was thoughtless. She was losing her mind. He was upset. He was angry and so neither were kind.
Two lost souls empty and broken, doomed to suffer an inevitable fate, their poison their only remedy.

The 10ft Castle

As she looked up at the enormous, brightly coloured castle in front of her, head tilted as far back as it would go, she wasn't sure if this was such a good idea. There was a loud noise coming from it and it seemed to be wobbling about all over the place. She hesitated and turned around to look at her mum who smiled and nodded. Ok, she thought... here we go. She sheepishly began struggling to climb up the side, her little legs kicking and flaying as she did so, until Mum gave a little chuckle, picked her up and plonked her on there.

Once she felt she had her bearings she tried to stand up. This however proved to be more challenging than she had hoped. Like a new baby lamb trying to find their legs she stood up, wobbled and fell back down again. This made mum chuckle again. All the other kids seemed to have the hang of it, jumping up and down and giggling with joy, all around her. Then one scruffy little boy with baked bean sauce on his "Thomas The Tank Engine" top, stopped jumping and held his hand out towards her. Once again she turned to look at her mum who smiled and said,

"It's ok Darling. You can do it".

With that the infants locked hands and he helped her up as if she was a delicate flower. Now all the parents were watching intently as the two children began playing and laughing together. There was even an all American "Awwwwww" from the mums in the crowd as they watched with proud faces.

As her confidence in the boy grew, so it did in herself too and before she knew it she was jumping higher and higher and screaming with laughter every time. She enjoyed herself so much that when the time came to leave she didn't want to. She said her good byes to the little boy and climbed in to her buggy. As mum began to push her away she said,

"Mummy wee can ave wun in my arden?", to which Mummy replied,

"We'll see".

Hair Today. Gone Tomorrow.

It was a satisfying feeling knowing she had made the right decision. It had been one she had talked about for so long that, she wasn't sure if it would ever happen. She spent a lot of money on the course and even more on the equipment. But now that she was trained and almost qualified she felt invincible. It felt good be able to make money doing something that she actually enjoyed. Sure many frowned upon it but those that didn't loved it! The profession could be compared some what to marmite. Many said you could tell a lot about a person by what they do for work. Many judged. She didn't care as long as she got to leave every customer feeling silky smooth and wonderful. Bravo. Brava.

Ripping every hair from the root gave her the same satisfying feeling as squeezing spots. That was something she just couldn't beat. Never mind the poor client on the receiving end. She had a job to do. A woman on a mission. And By God she was going to do it.

 

 

The End of The Beginning

The essence had gone. The embers were no longer alight but simply smoking now in the dreary aftermath of what was once a wild fire. They we're comfortable, they still enjoyed kisses and cuddles but that was about as far as the affection went. She bored him. He bored her. Their relationship had somehow managed to digress back to friendship with out either party willingly taking part. Now they went about their every day knowing that this was in fact the beginning of the end...
It loomed over them consuming their every thought and action. The unspoken truth circled the air around them like the cold air of a bitter winter morning. Neither could speak of it for fear of what uncertainties it might bring. Whilst she knew she still loved him, she wasn't sure he felt anything anymore. Both would agree that although they cared for one another neither could relate to that once familiar phrase of being "In love". It wasn't a case of giving up or not fighting for it anymore... It was a case of having nothing to fight for. Both we're very different and although this once bought them together now it had began to rip them apart. Piece by piece. They needed to find a way to communicate again. Even if just as friends.

Hayley in the making

As a child she was far from deprived, by this I mean she was submersed in love. Every member of her family loved with the whole of their heart. As an infant her behavior resembled that of spoilt brat, she would often be seen screaming and wailing until out of breathe. At the age of three she had developed enough savvy to refuse to get in the child seat of the shopping trolley, until her kind, faint hearted mother gave in and purchased her a prawn mayonnaise sandwich, to consume on the journey around the supermarket. Her siblings, as much as they loved her, would often play games with her at her expense. On one occasion she even found herself zipped inside a suitcase whilst under the false impression she was playing hide and seek. I like to think of this as character building.

Karma

The previous day when she had glanced at her bank balance, It was a painful sight to see. She had some how managed to go £17 overdrawn, she had only herself to blame. Carelessly withdrawing money using only her card meant that, some how a transaction managed to slip through the net and come out of her bank account four days after she thought it had. Money wasn't going into her bank account until Friday, that was still two days away. Bank charges would arise and then even when she was paid the bad men at the bank would take what little money she had earned as "Charges and interest".
The next two days went past, she didn't lose any sleep over it, it was just that niggling annoying reminder that popped up every now and then and said,
"Hello. I'm still here".
When Friday came she almost didn't want to look at her bank balance. What was once an occurrence that she looked forward to, now today had became something she would learn to dread. As she typed in her Internet banking password, breath held and body stiff, her eyes scanned the page like a machine.
To her bewilderment her bank balance was triple the amount she had expected.
Its a sad situation. Its what everybody dreams of. But the reality was she knew this money wasn't hers and she knew eventually, someone somewhere would take it back.
She prayed it was a fuck up at the tax office that would go undiscovered. She knew this was Karma. She knew if she spent it as soon as the last Pound was gone, she would receive a letter explaining the situation and then a notice period to pay it back. This was going to be one very hard test. Did she live for the now and go out on a crazy blow out, or pretend its not there try and forget about it, then when the letter comes pay back the money that was never spent. Oh what to do?