Tuesday, 28 February 2017

Leftover happiness





There’s no forward, everything spins in curves
comes back to the same point and place,
what to do? no backward either, sideways,
the same coordinates,  and nothing swerves


an inch -  only the old sugar jar lid -
I spun it today, the thread broke, couldn’t screw
it back on. Not anything of value,
recycled - mayonnaise? jam? - to begin with,


but it came from somewhere that’s young, happy
the details of contents I’ve forgotten
long ago, just that the memories sweeten
the sugar. I suppose it’ll have to be


thrown away at last, it’s spinning useless -
just have to scoop out the last happiness.





Back in the couch/mouse potato mode and healing as per medical orders, everything went well and I am back at the usual inaction station. This concludes my celebration of the mundane.  


Personally Feb's been a challenging month all round, in fact so far year 2017 shows every sign of turning into a full blown annus horribilis type thingy. Fingers crossed March works out better. 




Sunday, 19 February 2017

Leftover Rain







No hearts, no crosses
no gifts, no glyphs,
no trips, no roses,
nothing to spend
except a turn of staunchest shoulder,
and this leftover rain.
I have for you in liningskins
a flicker of red, and green
and in the pureed perfumepot
a curl of smell rising;
the deep caverns of words are still
speckled with fat ladybirds
come pick them up, feel them breathe
brush the leaves and feel them move
ever so slightly, ever so slight
loosen the hammock of strings of silk
holding this leftover rain.



It's been raining non-stop in Bahrain, the impromptu football field next to my home is flooded, the roads have been waterlogged, never seen anything like this here - pouring in the desert. Enjoyed the incessantly glisteny roads and surroundings, everything this last week came with the patina of reflections - glorious! What an amazing gift of the mundane to celebrate!



I am off most of this week - the old breathing apparatus needs some fixing - so I'm flat out and blogless, no phones, no gizmos in the hospital. But can take pen and paper in, always my loyalest and bestest of allies. I'll catch up with you as soon as I get back.  Meanwhile, stay well and have the loveliest of weeks!













Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Leftover Lives : Write...Edit...Publish...Feb 2017


Hello WEPers

It’s a brand new year at the Write...Edit...Publish... hosted by authors Denise and Yolanda, and I am beyond pleased to able to get back here! Though I have to admit that there’s nothing very brand new about my entry. 

Ever feel that a completely imaginary character has taken over your entire life?? Heba's got me by the throat these days. Remember her? Refugee, mother of 5 children, with 4 surviving when she and her husband Mahmoud found asylum in the USA?  Much as I would have preferred to write something fresh and new and romantic, I mean, Back of the Drawer, c’mon! It’s practically sitting up on its hind legs begging a juicy romantic type..sigh…


Heba walked into my head coolly one morning in November after the US elections and demanded that her story be told.  So I did, for the last WEP in December, and that was that. But apparently was not. Here she is again, insistent, persistent, resistant, the universal sisterhood of women everywhere.

Sunday, 12 February 2017

Leftover smoke







Because it isn’t
always a given -
the pleasures of perfume -
I have breathed you in
through my heart
and skin,
through underlying veins
and every other sense
that zithered to life
when you ambled in.


When this whole
is once again
reduced to ash and dust,
what will rise -
no part of me –
but yours first and last
a faint thread, a residue
that’s yours, and only you.




I am not very good totally terrible at the hearts and chocolate and flower type thingies, so I am going with the less spectacular, sometimes acrid even, ways of celebrating this month. The mundane, the routine, the not so noticeable that actually fill our lives with joy and beauty, as a commenter remarked in my previous post.




And I want to just quickly mention that I am back at Write...Edit...Publish... on Wednesday 15th, where the prompt is 'Back of the Drawer' and can be as Valentine-y, or not, as you want.  Here's the list, looking forward to some super fun, definitely not something I'd want to keep in the back of the drawer :)








Monday, 6 February 2017

Leftover blob



In the washing up liquid
a fastener clip snapped off
from an old plastic box lid.


I hadn’t looked at it for years
it had been with me, quietly
storing condiments and candied fruit
like treasures, like secrets.


I examined it again closely today
and the seal was intact
three other clips worked
it could still hold its magic
it would serve its purpose.


At the base was a rough grainy patch
under my finger - a small leftover blob
of glue from the long-ago stripped tag
that no-one had managed to scrub off;
a fine mesh of accumulated dust clung to it
much like time does to love.






Well, it's February. Red heart time. Which I propose to observe in my own way, as I do most years. I'm going to shun the explicit, the dramatic, the OTT and embrace the mundane.  Much poetry in the mundane, I have only to look for it. And. Pay. Attention.