Wednesday, 29 December 2010

Only a night from old to new (for Carry on Tuesday)

The rain was running down the kitchen window like liquid threads unwinding from a heavenly spool. Behind this watery curtain a grey November morning started unfolding its dim light, hardly managing to brighten up the darkness of the previous night. The cup of coffee in her hands had gone cold while she had been losing herself in the rain and her thoughts. Like a deep sea diver she had to take a few minutes before surfacing from the depths and re-enter the world above water. She vaguely remembered her husband kissing her goodbye before hasting out of the door, like always in a rush with no time for breakfast and a client already waiting. No further mention of the conversation they’d had last night. For him no big deal, nothing left to say. In fact, “Grow up and stop being silly.” was all he had to say when she had finally opened up, released her deepest fears, hoping that he might save her, that together they might be able to change but that hope was now gone, drowned in the relentless rain of the night and her tears, that she had cried secretly after he had gone asleep. Now she just felt empty and washed out. She looked at the clock on the opposite wall, a horrible thing he had bought when they moved in, efficient and sterile like the kind they have in offices and hospitals, and realised that she was meant to be at work 5 minutes ago. Slowly she raised herself from the chair and went to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked tired and red but just behind their dead stare she could make out a faint glimmer of their old sparkle. She started running herself a bath and after a long soak she felt cleansed and renewed. Like dead skin cells she had scrubbed off all memory of this life and walked out the door.

Wednesday, 22 December 2010

What I want (inspired by We write poems)

I want the latest fashion
And lots of new books
Nice jewellery and perfume
Plus fabulous looks
A house by the sea
And comfortable wealth
No worries to think of
And everlasting health
Okay, I’m just kidding
Though sometimes it’s true
I run around wanting
Stupid things, have no clue
But honestly, if you ask me
If I had just one shot
I want to stop wanting
And be content with my lot

Sunday, 19 December 2010

December (inspired by Sunday Scibblings)

Every year in December
I’m stopped in my flow
And ask myself the question
Where did this year go?
Time seems to be racing
I run behind or ahead
But every year in December
It suddenly stops dead
And while watching the snowflakes
A thought dawns on me
It’s time to stop running
And start trying to be

Triumphant (inspired by Writer's Island)

Triumphant is one
Who has realised clearly
True nature of all

Friday, 17 December 2010

The best perfume (for Poets United)

You can try and bottle up
The finest aromas
Mix it with the scent
Of high diplomas
Add the fragrance
Of money and success 
But money cannot buy
The beautiful smell
Of a life lived fully
A life lived well

Sunday, 12 December 2010

The pursuit of happiness (for We Write Poems)

Oh how to catch
Such an elusive creature
If you don’t know
What it looks like
Can’t describe
A single feature
Wouldn’t recognise it
If it bit you on the arse
In some cases
The pursuit of happiness
Seems like a farce

Wondrous morning (for Writer's Island)

The station's little coffee shop
Was open today
It never had been before
Wondrous it was
Covered in pictures
Of old movie stars
Marilyn Monroe
Frank Sinatra
James Dean
Many I didn't even know by name
And when after he served me
The owner started playing
An old record of his
"Do you whisper to an angel
or do you just say I love you?"
The dawning morning transformed
Into a scene out of time
And when the eyes of a stranger
Met mine
I was bewitched
Just for a second.

Friday, 10 December 2010

Winter podginess

It’s not the season
For a skinny body
Even my biggest jeans
Think I’m too podgy
I’m turning into the object
Of my food desire
Muffins spring to mind
The mirror’s no liar
But whenever I’m naked
The mirror’s my friend
I quite like my new curves
Think I’m bang on trend
My hubby’s delighted
And praises my bits
Loves the big bum
As well as my tits
So I ask myself why
I want to be thinner
Seems like this new shape
Is clearly a winner
Maybe it’s time
To change my focus
The clothes are the problem


I don’t think it’s my role
To tell you what you want to hear
To agree with everything you do
To cheer you on
When I see you aiming for disaster
Most people wouldn’t take the risk
To offend you
By telling you the truth
They wouldn’t challenge you
Like I do
I understand
That sometimes
It’s about just being there
To pick up the pieces
But other times
I would like to stop you
From going to pieces
In the first place

Thursday, 9 December 2010

Forgiveness (inspired by Poets United)

Bathing in a pool
Of guilt and regret
The last words of a fool
Melodiously said
Could have
Would have
Should have
Could have learned
To accept
Would have
Given respect
To the fact
That we all make mistakes
And the past has long gone
Should have tried not to be
The fool in that song

Sunday, 5 December 2010

Confessions of a control freak

My name is Dani and I’m a control freak. Oh yes and I’m sure if you met me in person you’d also soon come to that conclusion. A lot of people I met this year did and thankfully they told me so. Obviously, I didn’t like that at first. It’s easy to ignore feedback like that if your husband tells you so (because all women are control freaks compared to men) but alas I had to seriously investigate these allegations – turned out, it’s true.
So at the beginning of summer, after some reflection, I came to the conclusion that the need to control comes from fear and that I needed to face my fears. So I did. Amongst other things I skinny dipped into the Thames near Oxford from a little boat my husband and I hired: I discovered that the Thames water is still freezing cold in May and that being covered in sunscreen doesn’t help a swift escape back into a plastic boat. I might have traumatised some locals that were driving past on their bikes as well but hey, I was facing my fears and I'd like to think I helped them too.
Later this summer I felt like there’s something deeper going on, that somehow I’m not really expressing myself or living to my full potential and might actually try to control a part of myself that I’m scared to let out. So one Sunday morning while sharing a bath with my husband I burst into tears telling him that he just didn’t understand what I was going through. When he requested me to elaborate, all I could say (in a very dramatic fashion!) was: "I need to grow my wings!" and he said: “Ah... so you don’t just want to be a monkey (he calls me that sometimes) but a FLYING monkey!” Amidst all the tears I laughed out loud and agreed. My Alter Ego was created. The next day I started writing my blog.
Needless to say that the controlling behaviour hasn’t just disappeared but in little baby steps I've done more things that I never did before and started to do other things differently.
Last month I started thinking a lot about letting go and learning to enjoy being lazy and boy did I get into that one! It was like discovering a new drug. Finally I allow myself to just do what takes my fancy and I have been reading and writing to my heart’s content. It’s been manure for my blossoming creativity. Of course, there have been downsides: our flat is a mess and hasn’t been cleaned properly for over a month now (it normally gets an over-all clean at least every two weeks), I’m way behind with an assignment for my Uni course (in fact I haven’t even started) and it is due in next week, my clothes are getting too tight (and I choose to think that someone secretly takes them in at night) and I’m still sitting here writing this in my dressing gown at lunchtime.
Do I feel bad? Yes, sometimes. When the old addicted voice in my head says: “Go on, get a grip, you know you want to.” But you know what? Maybe I’ll just have to wing it – isn’t that what wings are for?

Rollercoaster love (inspired by Carry on Tuesdays)

Through a rollercoaster
Of joy and despair
From seemingly grounded
To up in the air
Our relationship always
Continues to move
And therefore it really
Never loses its groove
I hope it will never
Get boring or lame
But always be exciting
And never the same
For change is the secret
And we’re the living proof
That the course of true love
Never runs smooth

Saturday, 4 December 2010


In between day and night
When things quiet down
Shadows come to light
And something emerges

From the dark abyss
Of oblivious functioning
Sensing something's amiss
In all this
That what I’m led to believe
Can’t be right
That somehow I’ve lost sight
Of the point, the purpose, the goal
There’s no soul
In this life
Lived according to conventions
And I wonder
Where I’ve been all day
For I wasn’t really here
In the now
And somehow
Feel like losing myself
In a dream world

Where days seamlessly
Go from one to the next
Without me

The quest (inspired by Writer's Island)

Life seems at times
Like a never-ending quest
An adventure filled chase
After a treasure chest
But every time we get where
The treasure’s meant to be
We just find another map
That guides our destiny
There’s never fulfilment
To be found in that chest
Only fuel for more hunting
And I start to detest
Do you think I am stupid
Or are you taking the mick
I quit this stupid game
It’s making me sick
Instead I will happily
Start to enjoy
Dolce far niente
Oh what a joy!