January 2013 (3)

24 January 2013 at 1:30 (Poems/Poetry) (, , , , )

I promised myself
not to be my mother
wearing darn stockings
and beige bra
leaving lenses fogged with finger smudge
beside heap of butts stained by red lipstick
I gave word not to be
giving off for silly things
starting arguments out of headache
ignoring close ones
by closing kitchen door

ironically in the kitchen, realized
we act same role
hard not to share fatigue
seek serenity in the simplest
drink tap water out of faucet
as much as appreciate her endurance
upon girly chatter
I did not repeat her mistakes

she could use then
I am startled
wondered (22nd January 2013)

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January 2013 (2)

22 January 2013 at 23:39 (Poems/Poetry) (, , , , , )

sometimes there is a person
that knows what others
would want in return
skin fine like tea – unstained china
eyes stitched scars accurately sewn
hands dough words
others do not hear from partners

with confidence spilled in stomach
they walk
their walk
makes folks turn to windows and admire
lets jealousy taste in mouth crave their grace
those folks never forget
a path from face expression to heart
which struck by a fatal blow
goes off
in last second they touch things that are real
not to be sorry looking (21st January 2013)

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January 2013 (1)

22 January 2013 at 23:36 (Poems/Poetry) (, , , , )

seven a.m.
she tries to say hello
to his goodbye
it sounds close to get out
door framed same phrase
her sad stomach – kick of hope
is closed with his key – cut

after midday she searches for
fragments of reasons
by putting ‘normal duties’ in quotes
chopped with a diamond cutter of mercy
are getting heavier
from an eternal oath once taken
at a dinner time

up on her tippy – toe
she’d rather lean into him and kiss
than rake through love’s rotten remains
red like tomato juice
starts to run onto the main dish
her eyelid quivers

she can’t manage without him (20th January 2013)

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New Year 2013 catchword

2 January 2013 at 21:54 (Miscellaneous/ Drawings) (, )

I hate to think that I’d been a public drinking glass
– I think of me rather as a loving cup
that goes from hand to hand
but should be valued none the less.

(“Beautiful and Damned” FS Fitzgerald)

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