Friday, 26 April 2013

Where i leave my fingerprints

I leave my fingerprints so you know where I have been.
They’re on the crystal glass door knob, impeccably formed. Snug like Sophia Loren’s undergarments.
I left them on the glass cabinets that hold the priceless diamonds and pearls at Tiffany’s so you know where I am when you’ve given me the mean reds.

 I wanted to leave them on the Mona Lisa to evoke your memory of my smile, but they wouldn’t let me. Instead I left them on the Eiffel tower so you remember my fear, if you can hark back to the small things like that?

I went to that ice cream cart that sells those ridiculous ice cream flavours. Sazzleberry…peewee…& inkleberry? You remember when we both got an ice cream and we were standing there, all those police came out of nowhere and raided that shop? We looked back at our ice creams and they were sliding down our arms. I left my fingerprints there because that day we laughed away our shadows.

I left my fingerprints on her panties so you would remember me, they were satin pink; pretty little things. Covered in stains. On the inside and out…

 The last thing I left my fingerprints on was dire,  you didn’t know that as you were too busy discovering my fingerprints on her satin panties. The pill pot was perfectly rounded; my fingerprints felt they were where they rightly belonged. They looked most at home there, felt most at peace. Although they knew it was right, the fingerprints were bizarrely smudged. They looked like a ghost being sucked in to a vacuum. On the pills there were partials, palm prints, finger prints and imprints of my lips. Even though I’m certain they disappeared when they were swallowed.  

 The last limp fingerprints would be on your hands…..with no real feeling or conviction.
 
 

Sunday, 14 April 2013

that hawaiian shirt

that Hawaiian shirt you had hanging over your bed.
palm trees, the ocean, sun and sand.
I went up to it, buried my nose and my heart stopped.
after I took an inhale of the shirt my cerebrum pumped and pumped.
my body was shut off, all senses stopped, for a split second.
it jump started certain memories.
I smelt sand, I smelt sweat, I smelt love.
I saw flickers of holidays, a young me, an old you, people I had never seen before.
like I had lived a previous life, it was all black and white, maybe sepia.
had my life flashed before my eyes? one I had never seen before.
one I have been before? my feet were buried in the sand, I saw a sand castle.
I saw your smile.
it felt like I was in this place for a day or two, yet reality told me it was point 5 of a second.
I was naked when I picked up your Hawaiian shirt, I felt it caress my skin.
I put it on, it was huge, I resembled Tom Hanks from that film we loved, "Big".
the whole room was a glow, the image on the shirt was mirrored on the walls.
I sat and I smiled for a bit, I rubbed my shoulder against my chin.
it was a soft spot in "a place in the sun", warming my bare legs.
blues, oranges, yellows, greens and reds,
not the mean reds,
not the moody blues,
I took the shirt off, it was cold, it was silent.
I put it back over your bed and pulled the covers up close.
I thought of Monty and Liz.

Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Thanks to Marilyn

Her platinum blonde hair,
Thanks to Max Faktor,
Her new nose + chin,
Thanks to Johnny Hyde,
Her new outlook on life,
Thanks to Joe DiMaggio. 

Her immaculate body + curves,
Thanks to her love of food,
Her glorious gowns,
Thanks to Jean Louis, Will Travilla,
Her beautiful face,
Thanks to Gladys Baker. 

Her acting, singing, dancing skills,
Thanks to Strasburg, Hal Schaefer,
Her endless beauty,
Thanks to Norma Jeane, Aunt Ana. 

Thanks for your personality,
Although your beauty is out of this world,
Your personality stands the test of time. 

Thanks for your innocence,
Thanks for the comfort you bring,
Thanks for the good you see in everyone around you,
Thanks for your endless love,
Thanks for your understanding,
Your patience and your self-respect. 

You never stopped trying, you never gave up,
For you Marilyn made who you are and kept it true.
 

Thank you Marilyn.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
(photo not owned by me)

Monday, 1 April 2013

Poor little shoebill


Poor little shoebill,
Mommy has no food for you,
She’s gone to get water,
Poor little shoebill left to fend with your sibling. 

But when mommies back’s turned,
You peck, peck, peck at your sibling,
He is now weak and you strong.

Mommy comes back and sees what went on,
Helpless little shoebill,
Runs to mommy for comfort,
Her beak filled with water,
Just enough for one.

She picks ‘poor’ little shoebill,
The stronger one.

 
You evil little shoebill.