I don’t really feel like writing much, but here, have poetry.

Presents/Presence of Mind

I want to run away. And then find my way back. I want to fly in a hot air balloon. I want to swim like a fish, so confident in his environment that every twitch of a fin has the grace of a dancer. I want to twinkle like the stars. Better yet, I want to be hugged like them: wrapped up in the bounteous black arms of an infinite mother.

I want to stop breathing. And then start all over again, so I can finally appreciate this mostly-nitrogen-but-also-conveniently-oxygen-containing gift of Nature that this breath is to this body. I want to shut my eyes so tight the world explodes in colour when I open them again. I want to drown my sorrows. . . in chords and melodies, bury my bad feelings like fingers in fertile soil. I want to scream at the rain and dance in the mud. I want to feel electricity, chase it through my veins and pray don’t get a heart attack if I lose the race.

I want to taste happiness. On the tip of my tongue. Fleeting, like overpriced cotton candy. Or your favourite ice cream. Or the best kisses: short, but oh so sweet. I want to run with eyes and arms and heart wide open, rushing headlong into something that awfully amazing or amazingly awful. Because I want to live and laugh and love and cry and not care about anyone who doesn’t matter (and if they don’t care, then they don’t matter).

So I want to be loved. And respected. And yeah, maybe envied a little bit. Because if people aren’t jealous then you’re not doing it right. But at the end of the day, I want what everyone else wants: a warm bed, with warm arms to hold you. Eyes that warm when they see you and a heart that warms you to the tips of your fingers and toes, even when you’re cold and cranky and unlovable.

But that’s just what I want. How about you?

Performed at the UWI WJC Writer’s Club weekly “Open Expressions” night on Feb 29, 2012.
© R.A.S. 2012