NOSTALGIA
_________
"mother to mother"
c. 2022
You could not mother your mother –
You needed a mother too.
She grabbed your cheeks to kiss you
And your lips burnt from the stain of whiskey;
Yet, how could a stain smell so sweet
and still discolour all that it touches.
She told you again – i did not want this.
What she had asked for was not to swallow this shame.
And yet – married to the medicine of her drunken grief –
You grew into the shoes of an adult orphan
and soon a motherless mother you too became.
She needed her mother to mother –
A grandmother for you.
But with four pregnancies and a funeral
She wrote eulogies between the pages of children's books;
And you learnt that to suffer is to be a motherless mother,
who drinks.
You told her again – i will not want this.
What you had asked for was not to sip this pain.
And yet – nostalgia's poison left a sour taste in your mouth –
So you yearned for another sweet drink
to heal what your mother had already stained.
i cannot mother my mother –
i need a mother too.
But with an anchor in my throat,
my tongue drags down towards silence;
And this silence fills a well so deep
that my lungs suffocate from the density of unspoken air.
i tell you again – i do not want this.
What i have asked for is not to feel this weight.
And yet – buried beneath the trembles and quivers your anger has brought me –
I drink this generational gift of trauma
like an unwanted present branded with a whiskey stain.
"constellation inside me"
c. 2022
Who are we if not a constellation of all the people that we meet?
You see,
I buy Hellmann’s mayonnaise because an ex introduced me.Glimpses of Liverpool merch, and I mourn beautiful Lianne.
Teabags left in tea remind me of Tarissa, but only Strawberry chewing gum lined the
dress pockets of my Gran.
What is copper golden hair if not the memory of Siobhan,
Or Doc Martins not the signature of Shihan.
But passing every bookstore, I smile because “Tara”,
And daily use a sport’s watch that once belonged to Dad.
You see, I only hear Mike when Kate Bush plays on the radio,
And I only tell the ghost stories that my mother shared with me.
But card games carry my aunts’ legacy,
And the words “I Am Home” could only ever belong to Carrie.
Sometimes I find myself spelling “self love” and “Santwana” the same way.
And with every moon rise, I think of that night with Ryan so long ago.
But fireworks take me back to that New Year’s in Budapest -
A reminder that some friends we carry through to tomorrow.
You see, I am not sewn to survive an airport version of love,
I still grieve the friends and lovers I have outgrown.
But if a lifetime of love has left a constellation inside me,
Then what a beautiful universe I get to call home.
"free fall"
c. 2016
They call it a free fall
because the moment you let go, there is nothing left to grab
except the ground beneath you
and oh -
how liberating it is to land
"halcyon"
c. 2015
I am so jealous of me a year ago
an ignorant child just a year ago
a blissful child who could have never known
what was to happen in a year or so.
ROMANCE
_________
"From the Streets of San Francisco"
c. 2024
I'm far away from the world I know,
the streets are wider and the robots glow.
The accent's familiar, but it's not home,
and you're sleeping into my tomorrow.
I've captured this postcard from the Castro,
a rainbow journey in black and white.
Decades past the reckoning of the Pink Triangle,
I've brought you this trinket full of Pride.
Now there's a tickle in my throat,
I wonder why that is.
Perhaps it tells the closing of the day.
But if these accents grew quieter and daylight dimmed,
my eyes could close and for a second,
you wouldn't be so far away.
"Night Time Guide"
c. 2022
I do not know which city I am in.
All I know is that there are sparkles of light outside,
and it is night.
And I am on my way to you,
quietly,
with the yellow moon as my guide.
"Rewritten"
c. 2022
Why do I still dream of you
As if my mind still succumbs to you,
even though it knows that this trauma is no longer real
Was it because the last time I saw you your eyes did not fall upon
mine with love, but apathy -
Not realising that apathy shared a mother with agony and a cousin
with ache
In my dream, we are friends again
In my dream, you care again
And in my dream, I can feel the fissures of the scar tissue that you
gave me as a parting gift gently decompose -
As if Devastation doesn’t share the first letter of your name
Why is it that I find your ruins in all the others?
The novels I have written of romances that have followed you have
never left the shelves -
Who would pay to read a reprint?
And why do I still quote the original?
I have not loved you more,
but you were the first tragedy I had ever written
Perhaps this is why I still dream of you:
Because with dreams, I can erase “Apathy” and “Devastation” from
our closing chapter’s final page
And what a pitiful way to say I am not happy with the way things
have stayed.
"at the sound of your name"
c. 2021
I wish I could tell you how much hunger my belly still holds for you,
Or how my eyes no longer smile because it’s missing you,
And how my heart now beats at half speed.
What a laugh we could have had, if only my lips still knew how to laugh,
Or if my shoulders could remember how to support your rested head,
And my lungs had not exhaled our last breath.
Who am I now if my arms can no longer carry you,
Or if my legs have forgotten how to run to you,
And if my head can no longer rise to match your gaze?
Are loving and leaving one in the same?
Because all my body has left is the muscle-memory of you.
And my bones still break at the sound of your name.
"to find a rainbow in you"
c. 2016
they say that rain leaves puddles in your shoes
and cloudy winters leave hearts feeling blue
fallen teardrops - oh how grey skies cry too
mourning petals grieve the loss of warm hues.
to lose sunshine -
sought i a rainbow, but then found you
and knew -
sometimes rainbows blossom in people too.
"waltz with ghosts"
c. 2019
I have found love in faces with beards,
and made love to bodies with breasts.
I danced with Romance in glass slippers,
cracked floorboards beneath every step.
Straight lines weren't built for queer feet,
left me stumbling with every twirl.
Heartbreak - the rhythm of defeat,
found me waltzing, waltzing in circles.
(the pain's more familiar than the person)
I swirled to three-legged tables,
where stable dinners were never served.
I was starved, and lovers' left hungry,
So who's next, honey, for dessert?
All these dancers whom have crossed my path,
forgot their footprints in my past.
And as I sway over their stain,
I fall in love - again, and again.
(We could have loved us better)
Do you ever forget their faces,
the memory of each dance?
For now I waltz in empty places,
with the ghosts of lovers' I've lost.
I have let my pain sing to me,
and with every whirl, I say goodbye.
For if comfort lies in company,
then my company will always be nearby.
(Thrive, Erin, thrive)
"without the falling"
c. 2016
we owe not paramours our longing.
warm hands choose not cold hands for their touch.
but in our wake of slumbers' troubling,
the first embrace will we seek to clutch.
we owe not paramours our rapture,
adorn not an ornamental smile.
but in the stomach of our laughter,
rumbles a hungry Lust left sterile.
we owe not paramours our musings,
ears may hear though choose not to hearken.
but in our minds where Lonesome's looming,
the first listener shall our thirst sharpen.
we owe not paramours our memories,
the past need not be a friend to some.
but in the blood of our histories,
we expose wounds to hide feeling numb.
we owe not paramours our consent,
rings fit fingers and not binding vows.
but in our hearts that grow discontent,
the first syncing beat will we endow.
we owe not paramours our future,
Today's touch shares not Tomorrow's warmth.
but in the dread of tearing sutures,
we cling on tightly to losing wars.
we fell in love with falling in love.
we fell in love without the falling.
ACTIVISM
_________
"yellow rose"
c. 2017
i visited a quiet place
where the walls were so confined
i tried to find my demon's face
but the mirror often lied
between my lungs and a numb chest
i felt my flame slowly die
my tired heart longing for rest
with no will left to survive
we were never meant to die this way
it's okay not to be okay
but we -
we were never meant to die this way
i listened to what others said,
"you'd be selfish if you tried"
but if i'm gone, would they care
they were silent when i cried
at this place soon a friend
took my hand, and with a smile,
"you are not a burden," they said,
"you have made my life worthwhile"
we were never meant to die this way
it's okay not to be okay
but we -
we were never meant to die this way
they gave me a yellow rose
to protect until it dies
i cried and soon i soothed my woes
for their rose just saved my life
we were never meant to die this way
it's okay not to be okay
yet so many lose their lives this way
so please don't let my yellow rose die
we dance along to happy songs
woes hidden in plain sight
but when the music finally stops
we can't say the word:
suicide
"ocean in Her shoes"
c. 2017
the dry earth - it's a desert
where the only water
lies in the teardrops that have fallen in Her shoes
he beckons - walk faster
but these puddles, they're heavy
like captured oceans that Her feet cannot swim through
he does not see Her rain
nor does he walk with weighted shoes
he knows not how sinking waves have kept Her subdued
he feels only the dry earth -
it's a desert, he sees not fit for
a woman, who carries the ocean in Her shoes
"cloaked crows"
c. 2014
there's an organic lil' haven
found with soil so soft and fragile.
birds' sailings are the markings
of its liberty in exile.
i once had found its resting place
along my cold journey from home.
such beauty had bewildered me
left calm for pacifists to roam.
the ground melted as feet impressed
like chocolate under summer's rays.
how blithe had found its equal,
a world full of halcyon days.
but chatter had soon nudged my ear
an awakening from silence.
its origin teasing me so
till a voice guided my blindness.
"they come from all over," she said,
"the alarm is heard in the breeze.
an assembly of sorts today
harken - in the trees, in the trees..."
and soon enough, between the leaves
a fretful crowd had whimpered low
strange - this world of serenity
quivers in fear of Tomorrow.
"it's the bees," one soon professed,
"how they have poisoned our pure stew."
"are we to become like them? nay,"
said another with words so true.
"our stew may be inedible
but i find it still good to chew.
say adieu to thoughts of battle
and join me in starting anew."
but aggression soon ascended
and my brow chose to wither low.
i met this world so dear, and found
in every beauty lies a crow.
they agreed to engage in war
force their foes to wave the white flag.
armed to regain tranquility -
waters flow once enemies gag.
shortly, the meeting subsided
and the polluted walked with pride
masking their now stained purity
with a pompous, militant stride
i burrowed my chin, turned my back
and saw i vultures armed with flight.
even bats had welcomed daylight
but were ready to pounce at night.
clouds soon shrouded the sons
and my heart was left heavy with rain.
until an owl's wisdom echoed,
"fools will think peace can come from pain."
"but mama, mama," her child cried,
"how do we stop this gloomy day?
shall the winter soon pass as well
or is the cold choosing to stay?"
"this is life, and things fail to change
we may know what eyes cannot see.
but sometimes the heart leaves the mind
suspending thoughts of disbelief."
"oh but ma, but ma," he then said,
"am i to wonder in the know?"
"oh how can you, dear," she replied,
"choose to wander when there is snow?"
i smiled, and began to venture
to a new land that can peace retain.
but stopped whence her quote repeated:
"fools will think peace can come from pain."
the owlet looked to his mama
with worried eyes so full of shame,
"if they are in the wrong, mama,
aren't we then wrong to do the same?"
"commas at the end of my sentences"
c. 2015
please tell me what follows after hate
what precedent does it generate
if inequity's what we create
with what shall i use to punctuate
we live in a world where
nicknames from schoolyard bullies increate our suicide rates
and still have laws enforcing that we "innately date straight"
then we teach ourselves to not only turn the other cheek
but to also turn our backs on the victims we call weak
and the powerless pray to whatever God there may be
left unaware that their abuser spells pray with an e
families who veil rape to circumvent their household shame
carry blame for the victims' scars of emotional maim
but here i am, still putting commas at the end of my sentences,
we live in a world where
in the past, kings have made speeches about their dreams
now their faces are immortalised through internet memes
we've been told that slavery is no longer an issue
but through human trafficking, we have seen its residue
our favoured form of punishment is the death penalty
"murder through law isn't murder" is what hypocrites preach
plenty of families die at the trigger of a gun
yet we idolise the country which sells them to our sons.
but here i am, still putting commas at the end of my sentences,
we live in a world where
capitalism kills, yet communism's still a threat
so many wars we've won through imaginary conquest
fighting each other as though we are children again
we are too afraid to grow up, too afraid to be human
with autocrats spreading rapidly like a disease
regimes indoctrinate nations to vote for their party
we are the barcoded products corporations endorse
selling cheap meals to consumers as a five-meal course
but here i am, still putting commas at the end of my sentences,
we live in a world where
propaganda has given greed a name: equality
concealing skeleton faces of global poverty
kids with hunger lose the struggle to make ends meat
at least Facebook likes will dictate which kids we get to feed
is it still possible for us to improve our future
when students raise hands, but teachers don't know the answer
since we can't spell "illiterate" in our text messages
youths are putting comas at the end of their sentences
please tell me how i should punctuate
when earth's comma's used to separate
we will only learn to not mistake
when we place a full-stop after hate,
