Because I haven't in a While

From ages ago.

This is how I kept my dairy for a while when I was miserable post-breaking-up.  In snippets and fragments.  Quite nice to read back over. 

It's ok to wallow and angst every now and then.

Weta Cave (Percy's Reserve)

Decades later
the same footfalls echo

her grandson's eyes
adjust to the dark
she once feared too

hands feeling along
the same black wall

or

Walking into the blackness
I watch them disappear
and worry
knowing they will in several steps
touch the end and turn and run back

I feel their heavy breathing
and unsure steps
as they can no longer see me
Waiting for the end to come

Why don't we look back?

Slipping Over in Mud

A cold damp stickiness
clinging to her thigh
scarred
by the slippery slope
grit clings to her hands

Defeated
She stands in embarrassment
of falling?
or of the mud?

It creeps up my shoes and onto
the scraggles of my jeans
sucking in my feet and
the buggy wheels
leaving tracks behind us

Ruby wheels her buggy back
arms reaching up
she marches
in pink sneakers
by myself
she exudes proudly.

I shield her from the road
half a hand on her shoulder
shepherding the buggy
gravel underfeet

Older ones climb up roots and footholds
blue and green patches of tshirts
flash between the foliage
and giggles follow me

____

Outside I picture Hataitai.  The #14 bus rolling up the hill with three passengers staring blankly out of the back seat.  Jackets on.  Cars sit in lines, snaking up the bend.  Windows are sparkling with mist and lights are muffled by curtains.

Above, airplanes silently bypass us.  Shut-up shops and empty parks in the village down below.  I would walk in the frosty quiet of blackness, noticing things, not people, and hearing distant cars and shiftings in the breeze.  My reflection flashing back at me in shop windows, hands deep in pockets.

My carpet is subconsciously familiar.  Rubbed and scarred with hair dye and foot scuffs and toenail clippings and sunflower seeds and sequins from a poem.

My guitar sits unplayed.  Mocking me.  My heater rattles and hums.

Good night.

___

Parade

I am self-conscious.  I only remember looking at my hands, at my knees and cuffs, the paintings opposite.  I remember the plate and the corn fritters with a moat of sweet chili sauce, sticky and red.  The froth of my latte.  The white table marker.

My hair falling across my face.  A shield.

___

Engagement Party

I picture walking in alone, holding down my skirt in the wind of the car park.  Present held awkwardly in hand.  Over dressed.

It's a party-dress he skirt billows out in soft folds.  I smooth it down with my hand and it clings to my stockings.



Arms brush against me
The familiar touch of family passing
in the small of my back

___

Work Drinks

Sitting too far away from the nibbles.  And I am anxious.  Small talk is handed around to and fro, questions recycled and bounced back.  Whispered gossip is shared in back rows as the murmur gathers and heightens.  A leaning in.

___

The paper is a satisfying thickness and it soaks up my ink.  It feels significant as my fingers turn the pages revealing familiar thoughts like a photo album of words.

___

Decluttering

I hide yesteryear's mess
in drawers and cupboards
cheap beads and mix tapes
missing clasps, labels fading

Pruning and thinning my shelves
yesterday's purchases shining
white and sleek
against the clunky wood
of yesteryear me

____

I fear it.

The catching of breath in surprise
as I walk past the cafe
and finally see him sitting in the seat
I have glanced at for months now

He will smile and nod towards me
eyebrows raised
I will look away and blush.  Hurried suddenly.

Us seems distant.

___

Red hair, green jacket
warning me away like a flag
___

Leapfrogging Lightening

And you ask my name
I say it with ownership

it is me
Kate

Stroppy and slightly sharp
but strong underneath
and capable of great thoughts.

___

And the kettle boils
and they turn up the volume
as I warm the pan
and snap the ends
of my asparagus spears.

___

Limp radishes

___

She hands me an already crying baby
Her feet dig gently into my belly
as I bounce her into submission

___

BBQ in Kelson

People become silhouetted
as the sky reddens into darkness
Frisbee catches involve faith
in timing and a shifting in the shadows

I remember playing in the backyard
until we were called in
or admitted defeat
our eyes groping for the ball
while lit windows with TV screens
dotted the horizon

A gathering of possessions
from the side-line
still passing and catching as we walk

Climbing the fence
which borders home and school
me in one long stride
wire catching on clothes
a sag in the fence
signalling our path

Then navigating the tall grass
back down the hilly yard
towards light and mosquitoes

suddenly aware of the damp cold
and the time.

or

I am the one who plays in twilight
As balls blend into shadows
and others admit defeat
I enjoy the losing battle

___

Indoor

A familiar convergence
In the entrance then scan and look
Hair pulled back
Sneakers
Mesh

The frustration of being slow
by half a step
We run familiar lines

My generation
Mortgages
Recovering from injuries
Love triangles from the past

In our voluntary cage.

___

A date on a Calendar

23rd of November
Handwritten
in the box
'Kate's birthday'
In his wife's hand

Transferred from last year

I wish it wasn't needed
That he'd remember it himself

The reminders underneath
'Doctor 2.30'
and 'Work Do'.

____

My nonchallance
is well practised
to the point of
fooling nobody

A forced smile
while my hands
form tight balls in
my pocket.

Fingernails digging into palms
Teeth biting the inside of my cheek.

___

Brunch

Arriving early
Scanning the tables
Shivering outside

Laminated menus

Watching her spoon out mocha froth
Saturday night dissected
places and drinks
as if it matters

Orders forgotten
by the waitress with stains on her shirt
flapjacks and beans

A boy and his mum argue behind us
I notice someone's stockings

Pouring over syrup

Conversations
Slightly stilted by
The politeness of distance

Porridge sits uneasily in my stomach.

___

CD Launch
(possibly written when slightly drunk)

Downstairs
Windowless booths
Empty dance floor
Red

Pinball eyes darting and
bouncing off unfamiliar faces

A waving of friends
beckoning
Empty chair becomes mine

Hand on shoulder
'Back soon'
promises Jon, my guardian

Conversations out of focus
Snippets
as I observe
How everyone looks like Sam

Dark and red
and ambient.

Andrew to my right
hands expressive and storytelling
proud
in a jean jacket

Content smiles
smug trivia
music

I smile.  But my blank eyes convey little.
Hands in lap.
Ears fuzzy.

Full.  Glass still full.

Candles melt and Jon digs out the sides
soft wax pushed in
flickers

Womb room.

Cold air.  Arms crossed.  Too full.
Eyes slow.
Pulled across the road
top button done up.

Past Matt's old flat
expectant glance
He's not there.

Home.
Key in door.
Red key.
Shoes off.
Bag down.

Bed.



Only some patches of lonely.
___

Is That New?  he asks.  No, I reply.

I pull on an old skin of
memories that don't include him
an itchy jumper
the red of unripened strawberries
it scratches at my chin

memories of an old boyfriend
and the shop across from his apartment
leaving him in bed for Saturday morning
shopping and coffee with friends
teeth unbrushed

retreating into my past wardrobe
of 20-somethings and 5kg less
my post break-up diet turns the clock back

to hotter boyfriends
and me with that glint in my eye

more fitting.
eyes more open.

___

Vin di kate ed.

___

So.
2 dates.
Beers and fries.
Corn fritters.
It's ok.

___

Shifting of groups

I see friends begin to waver
and fall gently away
like petals

___

Rejected undramatically by an unanswered text

I was optimistic
Re-reading texts
for clues between the words
that weren't there

Only an increasing silence
As texts went unanswered

Foolish.  Me.

___

Written Long Before I Knew

I see them.
Across the road.
Together.
Not hand-in-handing
But smiling.
Walking back from brunch.

I, on the other side of the road
alone.
Unable to melt away.

I can't time it right
There is an inevitable moment
of recognition at the crossing

An awkward hello.

It lasts too long.
We stand in a triangle
with him at the apex
Body language turning against each other

I have one foot leading me away
pointing towards home

I have to say goodbye first

Then let them talk about me
As we separate at the crossing.