Firefly

Just witnessed the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
My colleague and her husband took me to see the fireflies
on a river bridge, in the heart of the woods, surrounded by mountains
on each side.
The lime-green sparkle of the endless fireflies against the pitch black dark…
WOW just wow.
It was not real life.
Amidst thought of awe, wonder and gratitude,
I began wishing I could be there with someone else.
My immediate family or a lover.
Oh how romantic it would be to be gazing at the lights with someone
I loved.
I blame Hollywood or Brad and Angelina.
But I made myself snap out of it.
I enjoyed the moment as it was.
As I was.
As I am.
And, it was enough.

I’m Back!

Perhaps Alice
also felt
this freely trapped
and crowdedly alone
in wonderland.

The reason I write is to share my truth. It’s sort of like the philosophy for my blogging, if you will. So I will be honest with you. As I have been and I hope you know I have been through and through. Okay, here goes: leaving NZ a second time was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Period. I didn’t want to leave. NZ is so beautiful and my city, Christchurch is so nice. I wanted to stay in a place with family and friends, where I can drink the tap water and read the restaurant menus. Alas, I am back. Here by my own will (no one forced me). My main intention being that of growth. Growth as a person and as a writer. The former, I am certain has happened, for I am now Wonder Woman. I do everything here when I don’t speak the language. And I see snakes, many snakes everyday. As for the latter.. well, only time will tell. I watched a movie on the plane called 5 to 7 about a French woman having an affair and well, disregarding that, one of the character’s was an ambitious writer who SPOILER ALERT after countless unsuccessful attempts finally had something published for The New Yorker and then something else and something else and again and again…and yeah, I really hope that happens for me too, one day.

Back To Reality

And just like that
they were gone
and the breakfasts for three
a breakfast for one

By The Way…

By the way,
if you choose to wait until you’re READY
you’ll never be.
And, there’s always two sides to a thing.
1. She could interfere with your journey to self-discovery
(which FYI is never ending)
or 2. She could enrich it, enliven it
and full-blown cultivate
with heart plenty.
Though I guess
excuses
excuses are free.

My future house

All those flowers you paint
I want them in my future house
In the library room
cookbooks, Roald Dahl
in the kitchen
secret chef mouse
pretty herb pot-plant
colorful spice rack
and a kind husband
returning home to his favorite
muffins
rising in the oven
sweet jams
In the living room
a barefooted dance
on sun-warmed Persian carpet
the one my grandpa wove
especially for us
soles
souls
gently loving
slow caressing
cat

Japan Survival Tip No463

A while back, I asked my insanely talented artist friend Dean Scott, to do an illustration for the following poem for me. Yesterday, he sent me this. I was/I am/I will probably always be, stunned by it’s originality! So cool. Do you like it, too? I know you do! So go ahead and check out the rest of his gems HERE. Also, Dean makes GREAT curry which is an important statement both in general and for the purpose of iaccidentlyatethewholething.

When travelling,
one need adopt
new skills
in order to pull
through
foreign territory.
Japan survival tip no463:
persistently check
teeth
for seaweed.

My thighs

Currently writing poems with my second-grade students. Two styles. First, one word first line, two words second line, three words third line, four words fourth line then last line, one (1, 2, 3, 4, 1). Second, Haiku (syllables: 5, 7, 5).

Cellulite
is growing
with light speed
in and around my
butt

Oh my ghee doughnut
how did all this cellulite
get around my butt?

A little poetry outlining my current situation. But it’s okay, nothing last forever. Ok, maybe cellulite does. Alas, I dream of the days when I’ve left my current job, where I have to be seated at my desk between classes and in school holidays, for the entire day because the students are on break and the teachers are not (strange country), and the days I leave my rural home, where not only my workplace but supermarkets/cafes and civilization in general are an hours drive. Excuses, excuses, I hear ya. ALL OF ME hears ya. GAH. Also, Japanese homes aren’t built for the cold.. making it really hard to exercise inside…But, spring is coming and with it warmer weather and cherry blossoms and so is my mom and nothing else matters when she’s around. Not even my bum.

Japanese Rice

If you think
KFC
fresh petrol
and new shoes
smell nice,
Then I strongly advise
you sniff
Japanese rice.

Sunny-Side Up

Sometimes blogging is hard.. like when I tell you all to follow my blog and like my Facebook page and follow my Instagram and share all of my posts and you don’t. Other times, it’s the most rewarding thing of all. For one, it has introduced me to a variety of people, people I would’ve otherwise never known. One of these, is kind and thoughtful, funny and creative, Randy. Now, I don’t know much about Randy, other than SHE (first I thought she was a HE) has been sweet enough to comment on my posts and not just any old words but loving expressions of encouragement and support. AND, Randy wrote a poem for me! Can you believe that? Someone I’ve never met wrote a POEM for me! I love you Randy! Thank you for making me smile again and again and I hope to  meet you someday! Where do you live? Israel?

If I were an egg,

I might be hard-boiled or scrambled.

But, you, my dear

Are always sunny-side up!

With softness of mantle.

———————————————————–

For Anisa Kazemi.

I love this girl; You will, too. See why, at:

http://iaccidentlyatethewholething.com

 

Papa

I used to ask my father to fetch me everything
DAD!
Can you pass me the remote?
Turn up the TV?
Bring me my phone?
And more often he’d comply
But sometimes, not
Get it yourself!
Don’t be so lazy
and once in a while:
NO WAY!
But I had a secret weapon
One that worked always
on every occasion
without exception:
MUM!
And SHE’d make him do it.

The worst thing about living alone
believe it or not
isn’t waking to silence
or returning home to it
no
it is being unable to open a jar
finding a cockroach in the bathtub
burning a fuse
and worst of all
tucking up, warm and nice…
then realising
your cup of tea is too far
to fetch
without papa.