Monthly Archives: July 2014

Mending Wall- post Frost

 Something there is that is between us

It stops sound waves from crashing into my house

And makes sure your WiFi is secure

And my stereo stays true to my side.

The work of mothers- generation bygone-is different

I have tried to rid her of gossip mongering

Where they talk of things incomprehensible

And seemingly the wall is gone.

Everybody sees what’s between us but us

I can’t see beyond my screen, hear beyond the muffs

But it is only when the garbage crosses sides

That you and I, to commiserate meet

And see beyond the blue ‘wall’ we know

And acknowledge the boundaries of stone.

You wonder if we need the wall, how ignorant-

For then the stealthy spell of the glowing screen

In darkness during day would be lost, so I say

“Good fences make good neighbors”

Something there is that is between us

But mending it or breaking down will roughen my hands

And fingers strain- they’re much needed

Building farms and houses in another world.

I like being cocooned within the luminous wall

And so I say again “Good fences make good neighbors.”


Soul Shaker


How ordinary you seem. Yet that tornado of mint fresh exhilaration that whips out of your smile and blinds me in pure white light is more than just ordinary. You are the metaphysical brew of stars that glow and try to reflect from your soul. That raw energy in you gives off a light so supreme that it gushes like silvery streams and engulfs me. How a midget like you can throttle despair with a snap of your fingers and beckon joy that is so profound, so profound that the soul cries out in its sheer extremity is astonishing. Every breath labours with the mirth it is pregnant with and the mortal earth suddenly seems evanescent. Each strand of your hair spirals into shooting tendrils  with flowers the colour of rainbows into magic carpets and carries the soul away to an enchanted land  where the mind and soul entwine in peace. Just stay, I deplore. For the misty silence of your presence fills me  with thundering storms of peace. The tilt of your head beckons the soul into an intriguing whodunit of mysteries that can only end at the pot of gold. The blink of those eyes transforms the most banal of greys into silver. The wasp learns to glow, the porcupine morphs into a ginger cat and the scorching heat seems to tickle at the beat of your heart. You are the spirit of Zeal that the winds of destiny have decided to bestow me with. The glint of magic in the swish of your dress, frayed with all the soul-dancing makes me shiver with pleasure. I can no longer decipher what emotions lie inside me, for they’ve been shaken up,but I only know the effervescence is so heady that I’m sure I’m drunk in the whiskey of the soul drink.

My soul shaker is here.

Fairy Tale


I’m going to write some verse

On who and what I am

And oh the very thought

Makes me want to jig and jam


Will I write of the time

when the starfish came to visit

or when I taught the birds to pray

and the frogs to go ribbit?

I think I’d rather tell you

of the mountain tops I climbed-

the flying fish that sang for me

the passing clouds that sighed-

When I danced on the moon and

the flowers bloomed and beamed

and the woodpecker took a bow

and the earthworms all cheered.


For will you not prefer the me

who lives in dreams of magic showers-

than the one with eyes open

in the singeing burn of hours?



Everybody needs some Pandamonium

Those large drooping eyes- you sink into the abyss of understanding they offer. That large ambling body- both clumsy and graceful at the same time- you want to sink into that pillowy mass and feel the soothing tingle it offers your tired soul. Those hidden ears, black and soft as velvet- you want to search for them and revel in their finding like you’ve found eternity. The Panda. The most effective therapist I have known. Have you ever stared at a seemingly uncomplicated picture of a panda with a piece of bamboo? Do. Because you will immediately feel that sea of calm engulf you, deep breaths that you have gasped for. Have you ever seen a video of a panda slowly ambling along? Do. Because that sense of settling peace offers your scattered mind the respite it needs.

My best friend is my panda. I am one of those people who have found my soulmate in my best friend. She has been there all through- she has fallen down deep abysses with me and climbed that mountain of triumph. We have held each other and cried and hugged each other and laughed. At other times I have just stared at her until the feeling of hot chocolate thawing frozen insides comes over me.. and at times I have screamed at her until tears come tumbling down my face and she holds me and the world is alright again.

She is my diary of thoughts, my blotting paper of tears, my vacuum cleaner of despair, my churner of joy, my Santa of love. She inspires me with her words, enthralls me with her smile. I see her petite figure walking down like a little sun skittering along, hair flying everywhere and I close my eyes in contentment. I see her smiling, and see her soul smiling through her eyes and I soar. She holds my hand and I know I have everything.

I don’t need a stuffed Panda doll to calm down. I have my own  breathing, smiling, brawling panda. My soulmate, my panda, my best friend.

Happy birthday, you 🙂






  And                                                                  bridged.

      in                                                chasm

  your                             the



And the heart speaks.

There are some days when you wake up and find the world upside down. You shake your head and it’s like a hundred weights have somehow lodged themselves within the confines of it. You stretch your hands and they feel crooked and look crooked. You try to feel your fingers but all you come across is numbness.

You lift a foot and gingerly place it on the floor. That is when the pain sears through.

It ripples up through your legs, sears through your stomach and lodges itself heavily in the middle of the chest. You move, but it feels like you’re stuck in space, frozen vacuum outside and resounding silence within. You try to clear your head, gather your thoughts, but all you remember is pain. And hurt. Did they never leave you then? You can’t say. You run your fingers through your hair. It feels like running your hand through cobwebs. And yet that can’t be true. Wasn’t it just yesterday that joy was yours? When that moment of pristine happiness took you to heights of ecstasy. That moment of exhilaration that made your heart cry out in joy. That moment when the world was yours and every other trouble was a trivial speck of dirt that you could only just see like tiny little black ants marching away. That resounding silence within you that signaled not the tide of hair-clutching despair but flying-in-the-wind laughter. Flying on your joys, on mirth, on togetherness, on the silence of demons, on the dance of the angels, on the song on God. That rush of wind that didn’t take away the last stream of joy from you but brought with it the whiff of chocolate and family and love and everything else you cherished so much. Those heartbeats that didn’t point to the hourglass tipped on its side, the glass broken and the sand slowly all running out quietly yet determinedly, but pointing at that fresh little sapling that had looked up expectantly from the earth, like that bud of hope that sometimes peeps up through disheveled layers of agony. Yesterday you could feel yourself. Feel the blood pumping through your veins, hear your heart proclaiming in loud thumps your life, see the world smiling back at you through your soul, taste the sweetness of the rain that seemed to share your glee. And yet today you look at the mirror, and see someone staring back at you. With lifeless eyes, deaf ears, tasteless tongue, an unfeeling heart. The gut wrenching, stony silence that only the labyrinth of pain has to offer.

Some days when you wake up, you find the world upside down.