I’m Ashamed At How Many Times I Do It

I’m ashamed at how many times i do it
in between mouthfuls of muesli
in between ad breaks
on my smoko
on the toilet
and each time I’m left disappointed
yet i go ahead
and do it again
http://www.cheapflights.co.nz
just joking
tricked ya!
we’re actually f’n expensive
you can’t see him
you can’t afford it
I thought it would get easier
like when I’d start working
I’d become busy
and I wouldn’t miss him
or at least, not in this way
don’t worry, Anisa
just be patient
things will get easier
turns out
things get horrendous
okay, maybe not horrendous
I mean, my family isn’t sick
and my boss isn’t a dick
I’m not an unappreciative girl.
just that,
none of that changes
the fact of the matter
the fact of the matter
that i’m stationed here
and he’s stationed there
RA RA RA
welcome
to
my
frustrated
stream
of
consciousness.  

Do You Want To Hear Something Ridiculous?

Do you want to hear something ridiculous?

I am in love with a boy I have not even met.
I don’t know the feel of his touch
or the smell of his neck.
I don’t know the sound of his voice
or the swing of his walk.
I don’t know the heat of his skin
or the texture of his hair. 
And yet,
I have my heart set.

I arrange seashells in his name.
I pray for his wellbeing.
I sing him in the shower.
I whisper him in my sleep .
And on the days I pick wild berries,
we share them in my dreams.

A Bride

“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”
― Mary Oliver

The Mystical Beauty Of Japanese Noren

And still,
I cannot
move past
noren*
without
stopping
to peer
through
in hope
of seeing
you.

*traditional Japanese fabric dividers, hung in doorways or in windows.

I Miss You Everyday

And what is the sweetness of
red bean paste
or the tang of wasabi?
What is the fun in slurping ramen
or over the top karaoke?
Why dress as a princess
walking ancient streets,
climbing castles,
sampling exotic eats?
What is the fun in shopping
in trying this and that
when you’re not here
to comment on my new hat?
To take good pictures
the ones that look pretty
trying over and over
until I don’t look like me.

I miss you here
I miss you everyday.

But you can come back anytime,
is what I know you’d say.

But it’s not that easy,
I’m trying to find my way…
And it might be up Mt. Fuji
or down a Spanish bay.

Dear Future Lover

Inspired by the ever so wonderful literature of Zelda Fitzgerald.

I don’t suppose I really know you very well- but I know you dream of me often and that the scent of your cologne dancing around your collar bone is my favorite smell and that your one in a trillion smile makes all my worries go away or else, the way you touch my hand, as if it were sacred, as if I were, as if I am.

I know that your eyes are secret islands gradually revealing their treasures day by day, and that your walk is gravitational, in the sense that I yearn to walk with you for as long as I can, and that our lips are the two jigsaw puzzles still clinging together in the pool of fragmented pieces.

What I don’t know is where you are at this very moment and when and how we will meet next. But darling, those are insignificant, compared to the whole, compared to the way my head fits your shoulder as if our bodies were carved by the same sculptor designed to match one another and as if our hearts were planted by the same gardener specialising in companionship – each one of us supporting the other to reach the sunlight first.

Occasionally Lonely

And occasionally
loneliness is
the muffled sounds
of a neighbor’s telly
and in ad breaks
his noisy raspberries
on his girlfriend’s belly.

An Unwelcome Guest

How can one
small and grey
organisation
inflict colossal
pain?
I am an unwelcome guest
a true waste of space
I am a black fly
on fresh sashimi
a thick hair
in hot ramen
I am an outside shoe
treading inside carpet
I am bare shoulders
I am chili peppers
I am loud songs
playing in silent trains.

Your Lips Come Some Surprise

Though I’ve become used
to living, travelling and eating alone
there is still
something
I occasionally miss:
one sweet
unexpected
kiss.

 

A Love Poem

I am miso soup
sometimes deceivingly hot
often salty
always tagging along.
And you,
you are the lacquered bowl
majestic black and gold
open red heart
caressing my all
securing me tight
holding me warm
each night and each morn.