ginger tea comfort me as i begin the work within for affirmation beats stagnation from internal true to outward breakthrough for these finger tips were made to skip across keyboards musical and non, trace sentences in novels and the sky line at dawn oh ginger tea with a dash of lemon un trocito del cielo, a piece of heaven bring in the day line my tongue in the way of life, of love, of learning.
I could have been someone. Well, so could anyone. Fairytale of New York by The Pogues Will that realisation push you further into life Or despair? Perhaps that is the choice we need to make Each morning when we pull our socks over our shins Spit the acid toothpaste into the black metal ditch Silence our troubles Atone for our sins Seated on a cushion Or a park bench . It’s 5:43. . You look up and catch the moon returning the sky to the sun Both linger a little awkwardly now after the divorce. Moon says a final bye with a forehead kiss That lasts thirty minutes The adolescent Sky says “alright dad, I love you too. Now go.” Trying to hide its blush from passing clouds. And almost just like that Disappears into the blue. And you are there Still on the park bench Or was it cushion? Wondering what to do with these hands you’re in Or these feet clothed in socks up to your shins.