After there was love ....

there came despair
a period in time when the most promising relationships broke
in pieces
with secrets in the flesh
with dirt in the heart
with words never explained
and a new meaning of harming time
one would think
i never thought this would happen
that we would come to this
that i would come to this
.... feeling so small , i cant even see myself anymore
im just so small
inside and out
a big fat elephant no more powerful than that tiny mouse

and yet here I am, just like the day the great driver said he was leaving
on the way home from work , i realised such a comfort had to be amputated
and it hurt
but i was quick at it
and i never looked back

here so
another amputation came
within the hour of the morning at such rapid speed before my tea got cold
i realised this place was no longer mine
but what was really degrading
was how i realised that all this time i was in a big joke
thinking i had some say
thinking i had some power
thinking i had some right

thats what was really hurtful
i found out today just how important a zero i am
and then came the accident
after there was love... just another way of confiding within me that my fears
are
somehow in some way one day one way
correct

and no person would ever love a person they were forced to be with
today was a learning experience and i was put to the test
the show must go on
and the tears must stop
and the pain must be shut and the forward sign turned on

because after there was love
came life
and misery and joy combined
someone looking out at the beach in such silence and unhappiness god knows what they are thinking of
or who they are thinking of

and yet one day we were the best

like what it should be 

but that day ended on the steps of an Omdurman home in Sudan, very far away in time and feelings

age matters
so does the helmet and the jigsaw puzzles and legos and marker tops and game sticks and fallen spoons

it all makes an impression
that thousand impression
of the one acting like a doctor
tapping into the lie of smartness

yes thats me
im as dumb as i feel
a corner of turned muscle with a failed treaty and unreplied to emails, looming deadlines and unturned dreams, yes its all there. behind these fingers and in front of these eyes
the unused memberships and the legs that take me so close and yet i can only sit and watch from outside

it doesnt matter who the lash is from
it only matters where its going
all making an impression
of who i really am
and thats
a turned muscle and sore hips woman with red eyes and a broken voice.

a woman that enters dark secrets and places find nothing and returns only with the tears
a woman trying to make a woman out of nothing
for there are just so many holes everything drains out
the information, the attempts, the anticipation of a new day, the hopes of success, the fears of failure
it all drains out of me.....and somewhere after love

Pandemic times of me 5_the forgotten ironing

Dear God
please let me have the best connection i could ever have with my daughter

i ask you that this connection grows and never falters and strengthens and never wilts

its really painful to lose connection with someone you love dearly
very frustrating and like the stop sign of your movement

this morning i received good news
only to be stopped signed by the ironing and torn tissues
you see its not seen what i do
it doesnt matter
it never reaches the heart
the disconnection is so real it makes me want to anguish in the predicted anger
shes always angry at me
shes always distrusting of me
shes always non believing in me

shes always out of love
with me
shes fine with others
she can conversate and laugh and ask and wonder and joke
but with me
shes always angry

and i find pain in knowing i am so similar to her and yet so enstranged from her
and that i will always love her and dont want to judge her but she
does judge me - severely
in fact her judgement is now so mountainous that my shoulders bleed
i hate ironing
thats all
and i think that being cool with kids is sometimes easy on the mind for both sides but discipline is also a part of me -
i also really like my work and like the person I am when i work but  then the dishes are never done from her perspective and so im a complete failure

but then
i must remember that her obstacles, other women have been employed with and her anger towards me is reasonable
our passions are just not the same
her role is also finished and mine has started but the merging is wrong between us
generation opposites and tradition v modernity can sometimes play with fire

she thinks and i think
i feel and she feels
im tired and shes tired
so there no room for understanding