Archive for September 16, 2011

Marbles of sight

‘The eye is like the weather,’ I tell my eye doctor.
‘I see clouds, mist, flashes of light.’
She looks in my eye that
as always is the case here,
has been dripped with stuff,
and she pokes. Is she taking them out
to have a closer look? She might?
I suspect she has a son who collects marbles.
Am I losing mine? I have visions
of a boy rolling eyes
over the hospital floor.
She then sends me home,
saying that my eye is leaking.
‘Pardon?’ I ask halfway the door.
That my eye is leaking alright,
from behind. The white stuff
is moving in front of my lens.
It might be six months
till it is over, it could get worse
more intense,
I might need a laser,
not sure yet, no worries,
I could get blind. We shake hands
and, as if we are friends now sharing,
‘Have a nice weekend!’ she says.
‘I hope the weather will be fine
and dry, see you again!’
and I walk out, with both my marbles
but a mess.
No, it won’t rain.
Just flashes of lightning,
fog, and the occasional cloud
before dark.
Right now, daylight
is enough to blind me
for hours of fear.
Do I have, will this be,
a retina tear?

I have this cloud and flashes since late June. I am getting used to it 🙂

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Birthday wish

Animals are not people
and I am not an animal
so don’t read me Disney please mom!
I want to read about knights
and pirates, Indians and adventures,
or let’s make up stories ourselves,
so scary I get really afraid!
No freaking fairies or elegant elves,
as from today you see mom,

I am eight!

written for bluebellbooks short story slam week 10

Even your scent is gone

So much has gone,
now your scent is done.
It lingered long in clothes and hair,
faded away, molecules drifted
where so much has gone,
your scent is done.

Reconstruction

I reconstruct you bit by bit
from memory and from desire.
All of you comes back to me:
the way your arm would hold our son
and the spot there in your neck
where I can see that part of you
that you can’t see yourself.
I build you up from wasted parts
like moments thrown away
and pieces of our broken hearts,
I make you mine again,
but this time tall and slender.
Bit by bit you reappear to me
in reconstructed tender.

Interview

Blue bell books interview 

 

Bluebellbooks is a site where rally’s are held for writers. They did an interview with me  🙂

The hand you touched mine with

The hand you touched mine with,
felt warm.
Your blood kept you warmer
than mine did for me
when we were on the beach,
so I warmth myself with your warmth,
you even gave me your sweater.

Now your cold eyes make me shiver again
Nothing will make me feel better.
The hand you touched mine with,
it will not warm me now
as you won’t reach out.
Not like that day
when you gave me your hand
and your warmth on the beach.

Awaiting the ferry with you on board

Awaiting the ferry, how it would be
to be now with you and how you would see
the island come closer and nearer.
To you it must be as if moving is me
that I am the one crossing the sea
to be in a place so much dearer.

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