I am compiling a
Thank you list for
My upcoming 
Publication &
You are not
On my list
For you have
Never motivated
Inspired
Stimulated
Me
You buy me
Exquisite fine
Food &
Oranges &
Cakes that 
We eat
With our 
Cups of coffee
And I translate
These gestures
As I love you
And I have 
Respect for
How you live 
Your life
My son
Yet never a 
Question asked
About who I am
Or
How I feel
Awkward
Embarrassing
Silences
Occur
So little
In common
Not on
My list
 

  
I am a failure as a dad 14 / 20 March 2009
 
I cry
Each day 
Over my
Version of spilled
Milk
- Soy milk -
Fragments
I am a failure as a 
Dad
That's why my eyes 
Look sad
Snippets
Of their lives
Is what is handed
To me
I watch them
Do their swim class
Exercises
Through the window
While my oldest
Is not even with me
On this Saturday &
Sunday
He's off skating
A birthday party
All the fun things
The four of us do
Create a slight sense
Of guilt
As if I'm trying to
Prove
How good a dad I am
The first half hour
Of every new weekend
Is a reconnaissance
Mission on both
Sides
How's the pack
Today?
Is the alpha male
Still
Accepted?
How's the hierarchy
Today?
Do they miss their
Mum?
Do they feel I take
Them away from her?
Would they rather stay
In the place 
Where they live on
The weekdays?
Do they countdown
The weekend until
It's time to go away
Again?
We do bond &
We are close
But sometimes I
Feel
I'm the sitter
For the
Weekend
So that mummy
Can go off &
Have a good time
I am a failure
As a dad
For a dad should be
There for his kids
Seven out of seven
Days
Fragments
We weed the garden
After Sunday breakfast
Clock is ticking
T minus 2 hours
Until the dreaded
Phone call
Rings
And we are
Released
From our
Weekend bond
That's why
My eyes look
Sad
Their weekday 
Stories
Their schooldays
Their Wednesday
Play
With friends
I do not 
Know
Nor will ever
Know
Their lives do 
Not exist for me
Outside my cursedblessed
Weekends
I am a failure
As a dad
 
 
 

  
My One Song Saturday 14 March 2009
 
The words of the songs
That are stored in my heart
Are
My words
I thought about them
Wrote them down
Recorded them
Sang them
Sing them
As if they were
Hymns
What am I
Saying?!
No as if
They are
Hymns
And I sing my songs
In full devotion
To my Gods
All of them
A celebration
Of pain &
Loneliness
And eternal
Hope
On different 
Beats
Different drums
-- I came up with
All the rhythms and
Bridges
And sounds -
To sing is to live
And live again
Over and over
Again
Every song a
Smile
--Where the 
Roses bloom
In my blue heaven-
Every song
A
Tear &
Confirmation of all the scars
I've collected over the years
Cathartic self
Therapy
For
One
--I was on my way
Until I got hurt-
And still 
I sing
My prayers to
The Divine
One 
And softly
Give
Thanks
&
Show my appreciation daily
Aum
Shanti
Shanti
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  
Intense Summer Seating 11 March 2009 Wednesday
 
The steps of the
Abandoned building
Serve as
Seats for
Two in
Search of
Time &
Opportunity
The sun's rays
Paint an enjoyable
Backdrop against 
Which
This scene takes place
The absence of even
A slight breeze
Adds to the Summer feel
A chance meeting
The sun's warmth
Is not the sole reason
That he cycles so much
Faster and in an
Even
More uplifted spirit than
Normally
He is thinking of another
Kind
Of
Warmth
Kind warm
Woman
That lives within
A permanent resident
He even ponders
Whether 
He's ever known
Love
Before
He knows he must
Have
But
The distant memories
Are too vague
And totally pushed
Aside
By
Her
And her
All consuming
Presence
Can you paint the 
Picture?
Can you create a
Visual
Image of 
The scene?
Boy on a bike
Speeding
Running red lights
Cut away
To the next 
Scene
Girl sitting
Alone
Reading a
Newspaper
Cut away
Boy and girl
See & look
At eachother
 
Use your imagination
Here
Let it roam
Freely
 
And then
The steps of the building
Are abandoned by
Our 
Two
Time's up
Once again
The opportunity
Has come &
Has gone
What's left is
The missing
Part
The longing
The needing
Part
That seems to grow in
Intensity
With every 
Parting
 
Where can they
Take their 
Seats
Next 
Time?
 
 
 

  
2 March 2009
 
In the drunken mist of
Night time
Comes
The vision
To my bed
Lifts up my duvets
Moves towards me silently
And draws me near &
Nearer still
Until I can no more
I see her clearly
I hear her whisper
Trying to make sense of the words she smiles
To me
The alcohol consumption doesn't aid in understanding
What she means
Maybe she really is speaking in Greek
To me
My passive role makes her the
Dominant
One
It's fine by me
God what a beauty in this
Vision
If this is what four pints of
Your best Guin ness Sir
Does for me
Then
Let's make it a weekly thing
My vision  has passion
For me
I taste her tongue
I lick her lips