Nov 27, 2015

The night

The night moved, heavy and drenched in sorrow

morning rain settled on the dark road in puddles of black ink,
shuddering with hazy red, amber and green

a tired woman shoulders someone else’s guilt; she feels their hurt for them
an abused woman sleeps on the very edge of her bed, cold, almost falling
a lonely woman breaks the fragile dry spaghetti sticks into the pot of boiling water

the moon looks into austere loveless rooms spilling its silver pool of light,

while night took its last breath.

Nov 26, 2015

single but taken

They still live with someone long gone
They water the memories lest they die
They take on their hobbies and interests as their own
They over use their favourite words, expressions, a gesture of the hand
They glow and come alive at an unprecedented moment passed
They can’t love someone new..
unable to cheat the ghost that lies beside them every night.

Nov 25, 2015

Old feelings

Old feeling come back often, as difficult and as unmanageable as they have always been. One day I’m walking down the street, singing to myself, enjoying the beauty of the sky, the trees, the birds, then WHACK! A sad memory jumps out of nowhere and robs me of everything I have; I’m suddenly small, poor, and hopeless. I can never see it coming, it’s almost like recovering from a long vicious cold, I feel fine, I feel strong, immune even! That virus won’t make me suffer again, but then it does, and there doesn’t have to be a rational reason, and there are no easy or express ways out the other side, and there are never any guarantees I won’t catch it again.

I don’t like it when people say hard and difficult experiences make you stronger, they don’t, they make you nervous, fearful, always worried what might be hiding for you behind the corner. 

Nov 24, 2015

My first solo art exhibition

I’m getting ready for my first solo art exhibition and I am both excited and EXHAUSTED! There is so much to do, preparing the venue, advertising, finding suitable payment solutions, and since I’m reading some of my poetry at the exhibition I’m also running around looking for equipment (a small stage, sound system, mic..etc.,)
I’m working really hard on advertising my event, as most artists probably experienced, artists are not good at marketing and publicizing themselves! It’s hard for me to tell people to come and see my work because it’s awesome, mostly because I feel I don’t have the right to evaluate my own work.
Then of course the nerves kick in; what if nobody comes? What if it snows? What if people come and I don’t sell anything? Or in other words, people will hate my art.

I need to remember that all I can do is my best, there are things that are simply out of my control like the weather! And in terms of the actual selling of paintings, art is an acquired taste, there will people who will love it and others who will not.

Please come to my first art exhibition

When? Saturday 12/12/2015     from 4.00 – 7.00 pm

Where? The Herons Café, Coombe Abbey Country Park, Binley, Coventry CV3 2AB

Nov 22, 2015

I tell the moon

I repeat it to myself in the night unconscious like a dark secret

I tell it to the walls

I say it to the angry hurried wind every time it rushes through, aggressive and violent, flustering me indifferently

I hear it in the noisy empty chatter of people, in the clamor of my old weary heart

I whisper it to the wise knowing moon when it rises calling me to the window..

I miss him

Nov 20, 2015

Are you a beggar begging from a beggar?

When I was in my twenties I told an old wise man that I found life to be complex and hard, his response was: “life is easy, it’s only the first fifty years of life that are hard”. I laughed thinking he was joking but when I looked at him, his face was serious and certain.

I think about what he said a lot, especially now that I’m in my mid-thirties and after so much suffering and so much struggle, I’m only just now learning how to live, only now understanding truths and waking up to life-altering revelations that I needed to know in the beginning of my life not in .. well.. what I imagine is the middle of my life (who knows!) but that’s the thing, nobody hands you a life manual when your ten or when you’re twenty. There is not life manual because everybody else does not know how to live either, that’s why there are philosophers constantly telling us that we need to change the way we think and live and religions controlling the way we think and live and people killing each other all the time.

I don’t claim I have the answers but one radical shift in my way of thinking has done a tremendous amount of positive difference in the way I am living today comparing to my younger years, the shift is loving myself ferociously. It sounds simple and easy to do but it’s not. Most if not all of you are products of inadequate parenting, the rest (like me) have grown up in dysfunctional families, saturated in mental, emotional and physical abuse. Because our parents didn’t like themselves they couldn’t teach us to like ourselves, setting us out in a hostile world searching for someone to love us because we didn't know how to love ourselves. We grow up full of hope in finding this “other” who will love us, who will accept us, who will give us care, attention, value, validation, only to be disappointed over and over again by people who like us did not like themselves and needed us to like them, we were like beggars begging from other beggars.

But those disappointments are very useful, because what they really say is this: “you gave another person the power to give you what you desperately need and now this power is returned to you once more because no one can give you what you need but you”, life will repeat this lesson until we learn it. Life was extremely generous to me because it gave me a dozen of these disappointments. 
Realizing that I am the only person who can love me the way I dream of being loved freed me, it changed my understanding of life and love and I am grateful, very grateful for it

Nov 19, 2015

Radical Cleaning!

I emptied the matchbox from all the burnt out matches
I mowed my overgrown lawn, I tidied the shed
shredded my wedding photos
swept behind the fridge
organized my chaotic underwear drawer
arranged all my books in alphabetical order
threw away all the odd socks; I gave up finding their pairs.

A turmoil robbing my heart’s quiet fell into peace, calm and silence
The stars in the universe no longer disarray
The wailing of my soul began to wane.