The Noresoup Jukebox

the nights in Delhi have grown vague barely a memory awful to think  only two months have passed and yet, forgotten so easily red night light suitcase, bedside table fridge that was my sun broken washing machine you, witness to all these fragile little things. perhaps forgotten healing witnessed only by strangers park full of them and only one girl  crying  in the middle curious neighbours busy streets trees that made pretty patterns relentless sun that shone on me you, thief of the joys of these fragile little things.

inspired by Maya Angelou's "Come, And Be My Baby" what to do with hands so full of time? holding a pen, writing, scribbling, still leaves the other so full. longing is a thing,  but yearning, a life. how to respond to love other than sarcastic jabs? you who desires so much of me i, waiting, for the eventual  dissipation. how to tell a non-reader in softer ways that leaves the heart wanting more? that i, woman, might succumb to these brave attempts  at sweet and tender.  perhaps, when the skin gets thicker and you can bear the jabs better. wait,  a while, for my speech to grow  from bitter to feather. why do i dance around only to regret when the music stops. will you have me if i come around,  stop the chasing, if i come around, without the nerves, and ask you to be my baby?

BØRNS - Bye-bye Darling the peppermint tea on the table piping hot and steaming not to be cooled down by the weather or the melancholy thundering. i write better than i speak you enjoy my writing most, you do. knotted thoughts unravelled on paper, and you scurry to find the hidden 'I love yous.' love is also a thing that comes so very, very long after it has died and very often, only after it no longer serves to be realised. i suppose August is for  very rude awakenings anger hushed by reason soft lips now parting to speak softer words you who saw so much of me, and i who gave so little.

Halo - Alice Phoebe Lou get out of bed - make the bed go for a walk or get a cup of coffee then make two more, and another one --- for safety do not let the sweeping or the mopping remind you of tenth grade when you sloppily put on your mother's shoes respect your elders,  yes, your older siblings too. do not forget,  the whirring washer or the dryer,  or the clothes getting dried out in the sun and come down in time for afternoon tea but more so to make lunch and remember, bake cake for after every meal. and pacify the baby, tell her all is well and her presence, swell! make sure she does not crack or show signs of cracking. remember the tantrums that once  shook the ground beneath us, as if condemning us to hell. And ah!  control your portions --- put down the pig. you must remember that you are still in courting season; lasso a man! and prepare a feast for tonight's dinner to make sure you are prepared for when you meet the man's mum. hold your tongue! respec...

dearest loveliest, most darling salula, the other day, my red suede bag  had done me the biggest favour thrilled was I to see it had grown a colourful colony of hairy mould for me. well,  I had to wait for the sun and it has since been three days. if I should starve, rest assured, I have shrooms in the making! life is getting slower for me, I keep silent most days for fear that others have a life that flows faster, wilder, and free. and sure, I could do the same. But as we know, lucky am I that the ground below loves me so terribly so that I've kissed and hugged it the second time since March, and yes, yet again, the same left knee injured, hampered, and damned. yet more damned are the boots, muddied were they after the fall, and my, the rains so lovely, showered them so affectionately after every attempt to dry my boots out. so, anyway, I have given up on the sun. and any prospect of a healed knee and let us not start on the ruined leather. to soothe, as we do, I made myself ...

soft mornings, blue skies that so lovingly greet you may this cup of coffee be a very forgettable brew and the soft rays from the sun emerging be a view that i tire of and softer be the coming  mornings that follow and lovelier may the sun be, and the coffee, a better brew than the ones before.