Bungle Jump

bungling jumping
without a cord to bounce back on
we splatter the sidewalk cafes
with our coffee
and our poems printed on napkins
or smuggled in tea bags
without coffee we shudder in withdrawal
symptoms of the hype to type
the tip of the stereo
tweeting the twits to
face the books while
playing tag my picture so you can
key that word in my lock
I’d like to unfriend you my friend because
I’m so hot I’m a he-male
but she’s only into e-males
yahoo for her
she doesn’t know what’s she’s missing
running her g-males up the north pole
where-when-why even gentle magnets go crazy
pointlessly poking through an open window
clique

Mesothelioma

Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy and festivity for parents especially those mums and dads with little ones toddling about. But sometimes life throws you in the deep end without a lifejacket. Sink or swim… I was recently contacted by Heather, a powerful mum diagnosed with mesothelioma who decided to swim, and survives to this day to give hope to others…

To swim through serious lifesaving operations,

To swim through the possibility of never seeing her baby girl grow up,

To swim through perhaps her last Christmas…

Read more about this amazing woman, this wonderful mum, this role model for all of us parents with little ones we care so much about. Here’s a link to her blog – please check it out for inspiration and for ‘humbilification’ in the parenting department.

http://www.mesothelioma.com/blog/authors/heather/

‘Scene’ in Taiwan #1

A family of secondhand fridges
stood warm and unfriendly
like the orphans they were;
soldiers in a line, FOR SALE,
ejected from the kitchens
of families on the move,
dented stainless steel
proudly rusting at the edges
at an angle on the tar,
guarding the side of the road
from thick yellow lines
and dashed white ones,
shut doors carry hidden shames and stains –
in public they’re ignored by all but me

out of dust

And your angel dust is dry you say, Right?
Because that’s exactly what I thought.

I know I said to you, “I would never,”
But there is more for us to do in this life Again

But not Until
I tell the things you need to hear to You.

My mother told me to try again, So I tried
And failed and failed And failed

Until after some years apart it is here we meet Again.
And when you couldn’t settle your fairy dust, But I did,

And when I tried to be there for you, And I was,
And when I say I’m in love with you, And I am,

Right? I thought I would never again, until you,
So I tried and failed again.

But I did try again and I was a failure again.
But I did try again and I am not a failure anymore,

I am your husband now, and what is more…
We’re making mud babies with your dust and my joyful tears!

dust

and out of the dust of sleep
there rises another angel without wings
wrapped in love
thirsty for peace and milk

my baby awakens
another treasure stirs beside me
golden in the morning
silver at night

my wife snores musically
so out of the dust of sleep we travel
to the land of milk and honeys
wrapped in life’s generous hands

hungry for more kisses and smiles
my life is perfect

winded

Sitting here with the wind as company
We speak of rustling things
Dying leaves whisper as they scrape a living off the road
Dust and grit head for hidden corners and the privacy of edges
Trash of the carelessly forgotten kind contort into bullied shapes
And our voices are carried before they fade to whispers to shadows to nothing