Love wraps around me like a woolly throw.
Love gives me light when I’m in a shadow.
Love relaxes me, soothing my soul.
Love streams through me and makes me feel whole.
Love lets me see all the beauty around.
Love helps me hear more magnificent sounds.
Love is amazing the more it unwinds.
Love is energy bubbling through minds.
Love is abundant, take all you need.
Love makes life worth living, that’s guaranteed.
You are like a rose,
Soft petals, and thorns.
And I love that.
You are like a star,
Bright, and far away.
And I love that.
You are like mature cheese,
Crumbly, and strong.
And I love that.
You are like my cat,
Soft fur, and claws.
And I love that.
You are like a broad bean,
Curvy, and hard.
And I love that.
You are in my life,
Good times, and bad.
And I love that.
If I was rum and raisin ice-cream
I would not be here,
I’d have melted away,
Evaporated, dissolved,
Just my raisins remaining,
Dehydrated, shrivelled.
If I was a mint choc chip ice-cream
I would not be here .
I’d have melted away,
Evaporated, dissolved,
Just my choc chips remaining,
Disgustingly sticky.
If I was a strawberry ice-cream
I would not be here.
I’d have melted away,
Evaporated, dissolved,
Just little pips remaining,
Insignificantly.
If I was a vanilla ice-cream
I would not be here.
I’d have melted away,
Evaporated, dissolved,
Zero trace remaining.
But I’m not a delicate ice-cream,
I’m a human bean,
And my strong skin holds in
Exhausted sloshy organs.
When I cool will they migrate
Back to their slots once more?
Or will my kidneys
Stay in my toes?
I sit with comfortable tranquillity,
It feels like a warm blanket
Covering me up and keeping me safe.
I watch the clouds saunter by.
They carry my worries away with them,
I do not need them today,
Just my blanket of snug serenity.
Gazing up at the sky on Christmas Eve
I wonder if we see the same stars.
I clasp my hands and imagine it’s you,
Squeezing three times to say I love you.
Physically far yet spiritually near,
When I know you’re here I have no fear.
I chat in my mind and know that you hear.
When I lose my way you guide and steer.
I’m never alone, Christmas and beyond.
Your joy, love, and hope comforts my soul.
I used to be a pineapple, called Derek. But now I’m a human called Dave. Oh how I wish I’d stayed a pineapple, life was much more uncomplicated back then. Be a human they said, it’ll be fun they said. So I put my reincarnation request in. They lied. It’s much better to be a pineapple, oh how I miss those tropical days and balmy nights. Soaking in sunshine, growing and glowing with golden sweet juiciness, hanging out with other pineapples, chatting, laughing, sharing jokes and dreams. Magical underestimated days.
Being a pineapple is stress free. Being a human is not. Being human is complicated and not easy to grasp, I think it would take a couple of reincarnations to master it. I don’t want to try again. Pineapples, we’re easy, we’re all the same, humans come in different shapes, sizes, colours, religions, sexes, classes, intellects, emotions. Pineapples are pineapples. Pure love and enjoyment. I’m going to request to be a pineapple again. Or a mango. I knew a mango, Michael. He was cool.
You’re my special someone ‘til the end of time,
My gin and tonic to my splash of lime.
You’re my small umbrella in my exotic cocktail,
My refreshing breeze propelling my sail.
You’re my reason to wake with a smile on my face,
My obedient pet to hug and embrace.
You’re my sparkling star in the darkest of night,
My shining beacon and my guiding light.
You’re my positive thought snuggling in my head,
My freshly washed sheets straddling across my bed.
You’re my motivation for living life true,
My excitement for starting over anew.
You’re my obsession, possession, lover for life,
My soul companion during the afterlife.
You’re my morning coffee, that shot of caffeine,
My wonderful servant, and I am your Queen.
Sat against this rock I am hidden from the world. Invisible and insignificant.
Facing outwards, I hear the ocean caressing the rocks further below me, I see the lit lighthouse standing proud, alone but confident, defiant against the blackness of the unknown ocean stretching ahead of it.
Facing inland I see couples illuminated by candlelight through the restaurant picture windows, laughing, smiling, touching. I don’t know which I’m more envious of, the people exchanging loving looks, or the ocean full of freedom and hypnotic hope.
I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone to look lovingly at me, to be their whole world in that moment and moments more. I am not worthy of another’s love. Even I don’t love myself so how can I expect it from another. No one could find me special, wonderful, their guiding light. I will never be someone’s lighthouse, someone’s restaurant gazer.
I will be the lone rock sitter, the solo sea starer, the self-placed exile. I long to be with someone special, as much as I long to leap into the ocean, to float away from pain. Maybe I should take that leap, find the lighthouse for me.
Why am I so scared of sitting in that window? The remote sea seems less terrifying to me. I have a blackness within, it spreads and dims my vision. It smothers my clarity at times. At times I don’t know if I’ll leap when my dark secret self swirls deep. The sea speaks to me, it says listen to me, follow me, join me, stay with me.
I close my eyes as wind joins waves in beautiful orchestral crescendos.
Inhaling salted air, I breathe life into me.
Today is not a leap day.
I’ve hit self-destruct and my time is oozing out,
I want my head to shush but all it does is shout,
Self-loathing vile thoughts are all that I hear,
I fear that my brain will crank up a gear.
I see light and love, but I deflect it away,
I am a plane crashing down without a Mayday.
My heart is anaesthetised to numb the dull pain
But I long to feel a healing love once again.
I need someone to assemble my cracked pieces
Before this intensity of thought increases,
But I can’t let people in to my scrambled mess
When trying to love myself brings such distress.
I need someone to hold me but that’s out of reach,
A black cloud sucks life from me like a famished leech
I wish I was a potato, lounging in a field,
Dreaming of being scrubbed and delicately peeled.
I’d aspire to being dauphinoise
But that would take some class I guess.
Maybe I’d be chunky chips
And hang around with spicy dips.
Or I could be some creamy mash
Whipped up with butter in a flash.
Maybe I’d chill and watch a show,
Being a magnificent couch potato.
Naomi Rettig 