The Noresoup Jukebox

awkward demeanor  let the clouds roll by as i try to imitate their grace fleeting softly, and then crowding just in time, to bring soft rains and when the light hits, just so very right, may colours cascade all those pretty hues and may my mouth learn their ease when it comes time to speak or confess sorry "i love you's" and if the sky is blue and meant to be clear for a sunny day may i learn to be recluse, but not in horror or embarrassment  may i learn to rest with the clouds wherever they go when the skies tire of their fluffy clutter 

and so i sewed up two pairs of pants so they no longer sweep the floor and bid adieu to house for two weeks oh mother who seldom loves me and the seasons changed while i was gone skies that no longer burst into tears and the garden aubergines all wilted like the person who left that week terrace now full of past; family who hoards and house painted a different colour and if i was meek then, i am no longer  cardboard heart that hardens to steel i wonder why i left for the green fields when i had found contentment in the hills bored was i? of the many i had and yet, the very little it had healed and when i came home, dog loved me more and house seemed to glow a prettier hue i suppose distance is another thing precondition to loving me and returning just before the heart grows cold

Alice Phoebe Lou - How to Get Out of Love tell me, how to be easier to love and how to have softer expressions --- countenance and words. how to smile and make it pretty how to be easier on myself  and what it means to do otherwise have no clue why everyone tells me to be selfish when all that I have are defenses  against the very love I desire. teach me, how to be a better daughter and what it means to be happy to walk into church a fairly renewed person in spirit and in mind and to talk to God like I believe that the words spoken are doing more than echoing  against my wooden ceiling. allow me, to step on your foot a few hundred times before I find my rhythm no bone in me can carry a tune. but if all you can offer is silent audience, reserved judgement and love, then, that might be the only thing my busy mind cannot outwit. and, well, apologies for the emotional avalanche it is no job of yours to unravel these knotted concerns all in chaotic disarray. I suppose we can s...

Runs in the family - The Roches falling short, again from the prescribed way of being, having much to do with my time though only pertaining to the mundane. house rules tend to quiet down right after church night services holy is the silence and holier is the quarrelling mouths at rest. midnight hours spent  trying to keep the trains of thought at bay. it is not enough to be educated or to feel that there is more to life; purpose knocking on my window daring my frail arms to fly. blessings are still in place yet yes, it is so very true. for the other night, I was surprised white auspicious car outside and Mordechai asking me to join the drive. and it reminded me of father I no longer know. and all the times I sat passenger while trouble outside threatened to grow. and the tiny heart settling,  growing thicker and stronger as to leave the car as someone better feeling safer and secure.  gratitude to the love now lost and gratitude to love found elsewhere. even more so, for...

September makes a grand exit showers upon showers my now fairly drenched capris. I grow resentful  as the weather worsens my aching knees but the garden's harvest was so bountiful it placated my anger with ease. short-lived joys, core theme of my rushed September. the evening would bring to my attention missing crystal on my gold ring and a few marks on my ring finger. losses after losses, what a very remarkable September. I had you, then I didn't, and then I had a few others. Then I lost about 100 times trying to propitiate my very darling mother and father, no different, I suppose it is time to leave home for another. What a dream summer had sold me! scammed I was, proper. For in this excruciating autumn, I find no thing in life can cause a stir. Everything dies eventually, these cliché falling leaves. and with them, my childish hope, for fruitful busyness like the buzzing bees. 

Lizzy McAlpine - I Don't Know You At All busy day filled with countless, unexpected additions my fervent to-do list made the most phone calls since spring asking around for space where my big boned frame might fit in. then, I wondered,  who is he really? another round of calls and very rigid promises made I cannot pull away and bring to my family shame though I paid my leave to a few hundred people goodbye, actress no longer then, I wondered, who is he really? so, of course, a phone call to my salula and a few cards with my younger sister all the stupid questions I have not uttered in so very long and they both say the same thing. ride the waves, go with the flow, you seem happy. then, I wondered, why this all feels so silly. salula reminds me  I long dreamed of person I could talk to about the mundane like this very ordinary cup. dreams spoiled by opinions elsewhere landing right on my lap warnings written in pretty cursive saying he's no good for you writing traits of the ma...