A Happy Moment
You’ve written your last word in a Challenge you thought you would never enter. Yet during that sleepless night, an idea blossoms. Painstaking minutes spent thinking about transforming plain old English into creative, beautiful Prose. Hesitation lasts thirty seconds before the click to Submit.
Six hours later, your inbox lights up with a message “Someone liked your post.”
A happy moment.
I’m going to be a mom
more doubts than
anything else
my son-to-be’s
blue eyes
like lightning
he’ll be in my life
until i’m forty
terrifying
adorable yet
my new reality
this is what motherhood
will be
my quarantine baby
parents who say
why be tied down
in your twenties
but have you seen his face
a right to happiness
and laughter that resonates
louder than his barking
a puppy of defiance
in the face of hardship
Life is magnificent
I love the way a baby’s little fingers feel as they clasp my own, trusting, and the grey blue of those beautiful eyes, like two oceans flecked with stars. I love the way her fat legs kick the air, the indistinct gurgles she makes, the wisp of blonde hair that curls on her soft, pink head. Her smile would turn the hardest heart into butter in an instant.
I love the endless stretch of sky, so changeable and yet so timeless. The storms, the sunny days, the darkness and the stars. The serenity of its stillness. The way it reflects God; peaceful, ageless, and always beautiful.
I love the sea; I could write a million stories about it. It’s almost more beautiful than the sky. If you want to be my friend, tell me you like fishing (and mean it).
I love my youngest sister’s smile and the silly way she constantly quotes her favourite books and movies. I love the nerdiness of my other little sister, her obsession with horses and the unexpected wittiness she randomly displays every once in a while. I love my brother’s craziness; everyone needs a crazy, loving brother. I know how irritating siblings can be but if I could wish for an extra brother or two I’d do so in a heartbeat.
Don’t even get me started on food. I love that, too (in a good way). And I know most people disagree, but durian is delicious. Never try to persuade me it’s disgusting because there is not a single argument that could convince me.
I’m having way too much fun writing this, so writing can be added to my list of can’t-live-withouts, alongside music and laughter. I mean, isn’t laughter beautiful! What if you couldn’t laugh? Just imagine that for a moment.
I also love good books, so if you ever happen to sit next to me on a train I’ll gladly have a discussion on novels and authors with you. In fact, I love anyone who can have a decent conversation or argument about anything that I enjoy. Whenever I see my brother, we tend to start debating some issue or other. I generally win.
I think.
Talking to my boo
gives me so much pleasure.
we talk about nothing,
we talk about everything.
sometimes we call
land end up sitting in silence,
listening to the sounds of each other’s breaths,
listening to the random sounds we make
as we do our own thing.
but sometimes we goof around
and call each other pet names,
we flirt a lot, he always knows what to say.
sometimes we just listen to music together,
sometimes we play games.
But, no matter what we do,
talking to him fills my heart with joy.
he knows I have a thing for him,
he laid me down gently,
telling me he’s not ready yet,
and that he doesn’t want to lose
the little thing we have.
i told him it’s okay,
i totally understand.
This interaction really set us back for a little bit,
yet, slowly but surely,
we ended up getting closer to each other.
we talk about our lives,
which are settled several states apart.
we talk about our dreams,
our hopes, our goals for the future.
talking to him is why I look forward to every day,
words cannot simply express all I have to say.
Supper
Gather round, broken souls
“Time is still a flying”
Sit and stare into the fire
Watch the children of warmth and wood
Dancing in the night
Share around the plates and bowls
Made of pewter and stone
Spoons and fork, not made of silver
Pass them round and round
Come, have a piece of comfort
Plucked straight from a stick amidst the fire
Burnt black like coal – but peel off the covers
To find inside a golden joy
Here, have a bowl of confidence
And strength regain back once again
Scalding hot like melted iron – but blow on gently
To find within a liquid life
And so, broken souls, we laugh, forget, and heal
I am in love with ...
joy
kindness
nostalgia ... when it is not painful or when it is very much painful
dogs
strength when it counts and weakness just the same
IAM
my children
typos for the sake of just free thought
people who love animals appropriately
cows
ceareal in bowls too big to be for ceareal
history
who I was before
who I hope to be soon
ideas worth listening to
cases no one else wants
really good good guys
really bad bad guys
underdogs
hairless cats with even temperment and
time
love when it is pure and good and sweet and pleasing
Intimate conversations with criminals
education
experiance and those who learned valuable lessons gaining it
eyedrops
tears that fall in joy, relief, humanity, and acts of kindness
nothing about myself
Everything about others no one wants
baseball broadcasting
boxing
shades of purple only found in nature and nothing more
eggs, and not for reasons everyone else may
seeds
the taste of dirt in coffee
music... good, gritty, emotionall charged fantastic guitar through a dirty 70′s peddle
piano when my son plays when he is happy, sad, excited.... wanting
slow motion violent crime scenes in movies that are not at all realistic
poverty
praise
saddness for regret
the smell of soft sulfer in the air
religions that are reduculous at best
closing my eyes and hearing the banter of my sons, which allows me to live another day
fucked up situatuions with all together lovely endings
holding someone as they die, because they ask you to
thunder storms
light
darkness
Feral humans looking for any kindness they can grab onto and drown
convicted men’s eyes
guilty free men’s lies
rain
birds and howling winds
Destination unknown
wood floors
the smell of citrus fruits being peeled
Cucumbers being cut and making the air smell clean
humilty
individual moments with strangers that have no meaning
making people safe
making people uncomfortable
the story of Stephen
the wrath of Samson
the intelligence of abused children who grew into wonderful adults
strangers
.
.
.
Ellipses