life

Balloon Person

I don’t want you to be a balloon person:

They mustn’t twist you
and turn you
and tie you up.
Squeeze you full of this filthy air
and let them pay for you.
You’re worth more.
I don’t want them shaping you,
they mustn’t touch you.
I can’t stand to hear you squeal
as they twist your form to what they want.
Nobody must treat you like a toy;
draw on a face of lies
and then forget about you…
Leave you to deflate
or burst your form into
unrecognisable features
as all the air in your body escapes
and you’re forgotten about
without a care or tear.

Lost… again

He’s lost again –
gone wandering in the concrete jungle.
Fifth time this week.
He usually comes back when hungry –
I wonder what he does…
Is it drugs? Or worse?
Who does he meet up with?
Does he at all?
He doesn’t seem to care.
Too innocent and unsuspecting…
But the world is cruel, my friend,
the world is cruel;
not fun and games like a
Tom and Jerry episode.
This is real life.
With real problems.

Since the beginning

I’ve seen the way you look
look at me…
Through the corners of my eyes.
You have nice eyes.
I like your hair too…
You’re really smart,
Maybe this is the start
of something greater…

If you feel the same way –
We could be?
Us.
Me + You.

The missing piece to my life –
Well, not missing, just found.
Found at a time so unexpected.
We could grow old
Together!
Share the stories – you and I!
Us.

Maybe?
Someday?

I’ll wait.
I’m patient you know.
I’ll wait forever…
And more.

A 21st Century Truth

Isn’t it weird how she sits?
So quietly with a book.
She doesn’t say much, doctor.
Could you please make her okay?

Madam, I’m afraid I cannot help.
She has a severe case of being unique.
It’s rare, but fatal.
It will cause her to suffer…
People will criticise her and mock her.
She’ll have few friends, if not none.

Oh no! My poor girl…
There must be something,
Something you can do!
She’s my only.

I understand, all I can do is kill her passion.
Back in the day it worked.
They used to make people work,
Doing jobs they hated…
They were paid terribly,
Taxed heavily too.
The poor got poorer;
The rich got richer.

Please! Kill her passion!

All it takes is a day,
A day in the life of a 21st Century Adult…

The Photographer’s Portrait

He snapped away at beautiful things –
He was one of the best;
Able to capture momentary bliss.
His life in stills would be momentous;
Memories and moments of making smiles.
It’s easy to capture the outside;
It’s a gift to capture the inside.
But he did it – every time,
Maybe it was in his finger…

But as he snapped he got older,
Until one day his arthritis finger hurt to push.
That’s the day he had his portrait painted.
I painted it.
You should have seen his smile;
It radiated.
It made me smile.

That’s rare.

Now it hangs above his rocking chair
Next to the fire place.
His smile is eternal now:
To match his photographs.

Our Memories

I walk down to the lonely stream –
The water is shining like the sun
And I sit on our big rock.
I feel you sit down next to me.

We used to throw pebbles,
Little pebbles at the fish.
The water reminds me of you –
It still glistens like your soul: clear and pure.

The wind gently rustles the reeds
And I know you’re there –
I can smell it,
Your spirit is in the fresh air.

I walk along the riverside
Feeling the sand under my feet
Remembering memories,
Knowing things happened too quickly.

Our tree still stands tall –
Beautiful and green with life.
I can see you perched in a branch
Right where you felt at peace.

Our little waterfall trickles softly…
I peer over and see my face – for a second –
Then blurred out by my tears…
Tears of joy that you’re happy now.