Month: August 2013

Ego-syntonicity (and the making of lists)

These lists are neither conclusive, in order or of any real significance.

Things I Like: Kind eyes, snow, the ocean, the sound of rain of rooftops, waves crashing against rocks, the sky, the way the air smells before a storm, reading, old ladies who wear pearls to lunch, warm socks in winter, my mum’s apple cake, coffee, Michael Haneke movies, Dutch cheese, clogs, freedom, Woody Allen movies, clean sheets, the individual, choice, cemeteries, taking photographs, architecture, Paris, books you can tear pages out of, flamenco, road trips, foreign films, reptiles, Christmas Eve, black leather boots, swimming, creme brûlée, the sound of children playing, ghost stories, Hong Kong, city lights, tacos, art galleries, bees and honey, bookshops, lazy Sundays, fairy floss, generosity, people who follow their hearts, a moments silence in a crowded/busy place.

Things I Don’t Like: Judgmental people, injustice, fast food, child abuse, cruelty to animals, apathy, thoughtlessness, the cost of housing, wet markets, bad coffee, gardening, narrow-mindedness, being outdoors during a thunderstorm, allergies, misogyny, being leered at, super sweet cocktails, people who spit in public, men who don’t wear shirts at sweaty concerts, stale popcorn, warm milkshakes, cold tea, dirty fingernails, stewed fruit, doing the laundry, mosquitos, people who talk loudly on their mobile phones at art galleries, inequality, being underestimated, breaking a glass, rude drivers, writer’s block, stereotyping, nepotism, disease, disingenuous people, running out of hot water, people talking loudly during movies/ theatre/ opera, reverse parking.

Things I Am Good At: Writing, making people laugh, baking cookies, eating with chopsticks, small talk, making coffee, research, observation, treating people as individuals, thinking logically, empathising, handstands.

Things I Wish I Was Better At: Drawing, the harmonica, math, forgiveness, French, relaxing, sewing.

Once We Were Lovers

I need you
like it was
when it was golden

in my bed
in my lungs
curled up
deep and tight

forked tongues split
lies and hate
festered in our skulls

my heart
it is yours
in the darkness, alone
with my breath

my heart…

feet thumping
doors slamming, hard
how could you be so hard?

Your words pounding
my fists pounding
my cheeks
no longer rosy

not like the day
we met by that wild ocean

in amongst the tall
elm trees and
ghostly apparitions
how I feared those strangers

you carried me
away on whispers
promises, kisses
no more

No longer mine
No, not anymore.

take my heart
I no longer want it
now that it is yours
and you are gone.