See The World, Look Within, Feel it, Share It...

Showers…

I confide in you, I long for you,
As I step into you, I inhale your steamy aura, I feel you.
I feel your warm and gentle touch caress me and cover my body engulfing me in a hug I so dearly need.

As you cleanse me, stroking every inch of my skin, you too cleanse my mind, my body and my soul. As I close my eyes and feel your massage I too feel the sadness, the anger, the guilt and the worry drip away from me spiralling into an underground unknown.

You escape me and take me to a place, at least for a little while where real life just doesn’t matter.

You dampen my destructives and you soak away my truths. Showers give me the most greatest of hugs…

I miss those lights. Their illuminous glow transfused with the dark of the night will never go mistaken. Their sapphire orbs of twinkling dust surround the pipes and ignite into an enigma of heat. Those lights, Those alone neon lights staring into a forever ending horizon. One day we’ll meet again.

Ocean Drive - Miami

Virtual words, virtual phrases. Virtual sentences.  These are not “word words!” Where is your voice? Your delicate accent? No more does it sing in my ears. Miles tear us apart, and still you remain silent. When virtual words die, I have nothing but the repetitive circular orbit of my clock face.

I fall victim too… Confide in me please.

There is a tree upon a hill. Day after day, night after night, it so tightly holds on to the earth flooded at its feet. Forceful winds shake its delicate tips and bullies it to bend, Yet still it so tightly holds on. It’s a tall tree. An unknown tree. It’s a secret tree.

The earth is not the only thing this tree holds on to. This tree has secrets, but this tree won’t talk.

It was the longest flight of my life. A flight alone into the unknown. A flight away from home, at least for a little while. A place that was to for now become home, somewhere far away… A new Island.

It was a place of warm, damp air. A place full of colour, an array of new animals and insects that all inhabited upon a white coast with bright blue diamond ruffed oceans. The sun wore his hat almost every day, brightening up the already colourful landscape and bringing out the best in nature. Sometimes the sunshine would rise but didn’t reveal his face or his happiness and instead hid behind a sheet of dark and turbulent crowd of loud and arrogant clouds. I guess the sun didn’t feel like shining on these days, besides nobody wants to smile every day.  At least I did in fact share one thing in common with this new place; the mother tongue, even if it was spoken in a different tone and accent. 

Work on the island begun, friendships were formed, some for life. Although the work was nothing less from cheap, uncared for labour, the surroundings of this island kept me elevated as well as the laughs and words from my closest. There were many memories made on this island, memories that will indeed follow me to my grave. The quietest of memory’s in which have never been told seem to be the ones that stick in the mind, kept locked up safe within an enormous library in which only I hold the key.

One memory in particular was of course set on a damp, hot and vivid day. A swimming pool shared the resemblance of an ocean storm as waves crashed and water splashed through the air as children played in the cool turquoise abyss. As my eyes flicked through my surroundings examining, I noticed a reserved being. Somebody hidden in the cool shadows of a palm sat comfortably and writing. This was a woman I knew very well. A Beautiful woman. This woman had a soft dark caramel complexion with jet black glossy hair fastened tightly behind her head. She wore large brown sunglasses covering the majority of her face that sat loosely on a little buttoned nose. She wore a greenish coloured summer dress which hung like curtains blowing in the wind from her shoulders. Underneath were some dark blue and flared jeans in which had the Woman’s trade mark figure under their guard. Looking at the women I noticed that although present in this very same world as I am, she was in a place much further than I ever knew. Somewhere with securely locked gates in which only SHE had the key. Yes I know this woman, Everybody knows THIS woman. This woman is my best friend.

She sat there preserved writing, possibly a novel, or short story but more than likely if I knew this person the way I thought I did  it would most definitely be a poem. Perhaps a poem of lost loved ones or even a poem of sadness in which occurred many years before I and this woman even shared the same air. Only the woman’s poems would know the tightly locked secrets of this woman. As I looked on at this woman in deep thought, writing of course a masterpiece my eyes transformed. I always knew this woman was special, but at this particular moment she was emitting inspiration like never before. As the woman finished her final few lines. I watched as she took a deep breath, packed up her belongings and left the scene with a domineering attitude. I knew this woman’s mission was successful. What this woman didn’t know, is that after leaving her tranquil paradise her inspiration reined supreme. So her place, still warm from her presence was filled. And so I began to write…

The time is young and you’re body is wrapped in a fluffy, warm on the skin, cloud like duvet. You’re dreaming of a crystal blue ocean with waves gently smoothing away the wrinkles on a white sandy shore, or even of a more personal, quiet place you feel right truly at home. You know you need to get up, but you haven’t heard your piercing alarm ringing a few centre metres away from your comatose head nestled deep into your pillow. You know you should be in work as the voice in your dreaming mind says “Stay here and enjoy the warm sand in between your toes, bask in this glorious sunlight, inhale the cool breeze in the air, and listen to the sound of the birds swooping above and the lapping of the waves. You don’t need to work today.” 

You’re paradise becomes loud. Thunder begins to sound as angry grey clouds form transforming the horizon black and white. The thunder reigns louder and your ecstasy becomes shaken. Your Phone alarm for work finally breaks you from the Garden of Eden in which you so wish to stay. Not only has it woken you, its woken you too late. 

“Late…Late”, the word repeats itself, circulating and cursing and then the penny drops… Before you can even begin to comprehend the day of the week, the location you’re in, and exactly what just happened; your body as if possessed throws you out from your cuddly cave and straight onto your unprepared jelly legs. Now it’s time to rub them blood stained eyes, devise a 30 second plan and start you’re race…

Or

When your wakeup call doesn’t shake your sleep… Lie there and dream for as long as you so wish. Delve further into you’re unknown mind and believe in the images that flash before your eyes. Exist in your dreams, create you’re stories, Live beyond reality and never forget to be happy. Life’s too short and besides… you’re already late for work!