Outlines

Perhaps the world would be better in black and white.

The colour dripped out,
the landscape scrubbed with acid
to get out those nitty-gritty stains.

Spotless.

Sterile.

Simple.

The imaginary lines touch at the imaginary horizon.

A breakdown of
all that you believe in and
all that you are
into sharp angled shapes.

Meaningless.

Isolated.

There can be no sunset in grey.

Wish You Were Here

The world ebbs and flows
as time trickles
like sand between my toes.
Moments softly crushed underfoot.
Forgotten.

Wish you were here
to share this now
breathe the wind
and feel the noise.
Your skin glistens in the sun
like something beautiful.

The wind whips away
the unsaid words.
Hush. Just breathe. Live. Be.
Becoming can wait,
and so can tomorrow.
The fisherfolk are heading out to sea;
today, they cast their nets
for happiness.

Wish you were here
to steal this moment and
hide it away in the folds of memory.
It will shine through your smile
and in my eyes
and this moment will never be
crushed under the weight of time and
forgotten.

It – Those things we don’t talk about.

It sidles behind a metaphor.
There it goes –
twitching beneath that symbol
cowering under that image.
Only an angry eye
blinks from the darkness.
I drag it out and pin it down
with the sharp edge
of my ball point pen.

I will never be the person I could be because
my mouth is stuffed with fear.
I blame my family, for who I am.
I am angry with them.
I do not believe in the religion I was born into.
I do not see myself as a woman.
I am denied certain rights because I am a girl.

It shrinks,
in the fresh air
and under the bright lights.
It slinks away –
naked and ashamed,
leaving only a trail of angry
words on an empty page.

Space

Time shuffled his wrinkled feet across the cold floor. They made the sound of fine sand rushing through glass endlessly.

“Do you always have to be so far away?” he asked squinting against the blank white expanse, looking very much like a peeved old man.

“Very well,” said a voice, and instantly Time found himself staring into his own lined face reflected on a gleaming white wall. He met Space’s deep eyes in the reflection, and the walls instantly disappeared. Instead they now stood in the middle of darkness – the cosmos spread like a carpet beneath their feet.

“So, how long till we begin?” she asked lounging on a conveniently placed galaxy. Her black cloak flowed into the Universe and wove itself into its fabric.

“As long as we please,” answered Time. He plonked himself down on a bouncy black hole. It sagged a bit under the weight.“I still don’t see what’s so special about this planet No. -” Time swept a small hard bound book from the depths of his robes with a dramatic flourish. Space glanced at the title which Time waved rather obviously under her nose – “Quick Reference Guide to All Celestial Bodies – Was, Is and Ever Will Be.” and was suddenly seized by the desire to study her nails. Time flipped through the pages, equally unconcerned.

“Oh alright,” Space said in exasperation, knowing that she will never be able to beat Time in a game of waiting. He would just keep flipping those pages till the Universe destroyed and re-built itself in infinite number of cycles – and even then he would be there, casually thumbing through the pages of his book, studying the fine print at the bottom of the introduction.

“That’s the book you wrote, isn’t it?” she condescended, finally.

Time looked up, thrilled. He nodded vigorously with a with a grin on his face, “It even has a cross reference index with -”

“Hello.”

Space smiled at the form gently pulsing with light that now stood before them.

“Missed me?” asked Energy, placing a light, burning kiss on Space’s forehead. The stars in her eyes gleamed brighter. For a moment they seemed entwined, absorbing hungrily, morphing into each other.

Time cleared his throat noisily. “This planet -”

Instantly Space and Energy sat apart, apparently in rapt attention.

Time continued, ignoring them. “This planet,” he consulted his book again, “code named EARTH – I don’t see what’s so special about it that we have to individually cater to it. Why can’t it be like everything else and go through with its own cycle?”

“One of the Powers that Be was a bit bored and wanted a bit of a fireworks show I expect. And most probably we were the only Great Family free – “ said Space her voice abruptly erupting into a high pitched giggle.

“And due to our small number we must have been the easiest to assemble,” Energy added with an expression of studied innocence as Space broke out into another fit of giggles.

Time scowled at the two of them and snapped the book shut. He rose with the creaking sound of infinite ponderous clocks, looked at a distant blue twinkle, and with the inevitability of death, said, – “Let us begin.”

The Clown

There is a place far far away – past the clouds, and over those hills, over that rainbow and lost in those mists. And in this place hidden to humankind (we will never find it, because human nature makes us blind) there lived a people happy and free. They were not elves, imps or fairies or spirits or hobbits – no, they were no creatures, but people like you and me. They were one with the birds and bees, they spoke to the trees and ran with the wind. They loved under the open sky and danced under the stars. They were a simple people – they loved and lived… and died like all other of Earth’s creations – quickly, silently and unknown. No life was ever too young, and no breath wasted – to have smiled is to have lived according to these simple people.

And yet in this beautiful place, beyond the rainbow – there lived one who did not smile as much or laugh as hard. No one knows his real name, no one cared to ask – they gave it to him, along with the mask. Everyday he packed his bags and traveled around the world – he visited the children, he made them giggle. But when the Clown came home, he longed to rip off the mask and toss it on the bed. And then everyone would see that the smile was merely painted – and underneath was a human mouth that never quite did. As the water splashed on his face, it washed away the stars dancing in his eyes – leaving them tiered with questions he was too afraid to ask. Was it wrong to be so unhappy in a world so beautiful? Was it a crime to feel for something so far in the past?

And so he went to sleep every night, with questions that would fade in the morning light. No one knew his secret – except for a little mouse that lived under his bed. That night he tossed and turned – an old nightmare haunted him. Nightmares were rare things in the land beyond the rainbow – they rarely visited and were quick to fade.

It had been his first time out – several years ago. He had put on his mask, painting it with immaculate care – his clothes were all ironed, the cap starched for better effect.The first two children had reacted perfectly – giggling and squirming with laughter at his every trick. They loved his juggling and the way he balanced a spinning plate on his nose – they laughed when he tripped over his own feet and walked into an imaginary wall. A job well done, the Clown thought to himself, as he journeyed further to a small town.

She was tucked up to her chin in warmth – layers and layers of love. Her eyes had been big and black – full of ponderous wisdom – two tufts of brown hair adorned her head. He never knew what had gone wrong – was it the tricks or was it the mask? Did the juggling upset her, or was it the dance? He did not remember now – the details were becoming hazy in his mind. But her piercing wail still echoes in his head – ever since that first time those big black eyes had welled. He had tried every trick he knew to appease her – he tripped while standing on his hands, and slid on a banana peel. Nothing seemed to have worked. She only bawled harder and harder – and the dream distorted head grew bigger and bigger… Her pretty face was now an alarming shade of red, the sheets were becoming a mess. Clown became upset – he knew not what to do. So he beat a hasty retreat, and vanished through the door.

Twenty years past, Clown was still doing the same thing. He traveled to different corners to make the children of the world laugh. But there had been no one like that one little girl – her ponderous black eyes still stared him down in his sleep.

The next morning something was different – maybe something in the air, perhaps it was something he had eaten, perhaps something in his dream. He awoke with new purpose, there was something he needed to do. He was tired of his fake smile and – if only he could make them laugh for his own sake, rather than the fake mask on his face.