She

(I actually wrote this in a dream whilst having a half an hour nap on a Saturday afternoon. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before) 

Responsibly rebellious

Dramatically subdued

Social farouche butterfly  

An eye open dreamer is she

A cotton bud living in a candy society

Brushes careful shoulders

Never letting the sugar become too sweet

Follows the rules of the game

But makes some up herself, this is how is she

Erratically balanced

Diplomatically blunt

Sensibly childish

Curly and crazy is she

Layers of glossy gossip do tempt her pallet

But the soulful shadow embraces her tight

Never letting her go

Intellect and freedom pull her arms

Relieved and thankful is she

Innocently sinful

Quietly shrude

Half glass full

Can sometimes be politely rude

She is me

Me is I

Who is I?

Who is Me?

Tomaitoes, Tomaatoes

Me and I is she

Blends into protocol

Says life is too short, just let it roll

A for Ash

G for Golds

At times is sane
At times insane
Two names… one person is she

The First Time - October 2009

The alarm clock rings and I'm swift to press the snooze button, quite quickly realising that today is the day. I've prepared myself thoroughly for this and finally it's time. I seek no more sleep, bounce out of bed and head towards the bathroom. It's an early 07:18 Sunday morning, but I want to be relaxed and at ease with my body. 

As I shower, I'm picturing how it will go. Nervous I am a bit, but not because I doubt my physical preparation, more because it's my first one. I have done this infinite times at the gym, but this is out there with everyone else. Who's going to judge me, who really is going to care if I even finish or not? Me! I need to do this for myself and kick away the ghost that haunts me. Years of hearing the same chant in my head has to be given a farewell today. "Chubby asthma suffering children can not only run a race but triumph at them too!" Enough said, after washing my fears away I dress up in my running best. Breakfast has always been a big deal and the best meal of my day. I enjoy this moment of the day, ensuring I balance my carbs. and don't over do the liquids. Banana girl comes to my head, I smile to myself and take a few bites.  

Inhaler, check. iPod, check. Mobile, check. Let's go! 

There's a crisp chill in the air, accompanied by radiating sunshine and a light wind. If there was an ideal climatic chart for this event, I would check all the boxes today. I'm standing quite far behind from the start line, itching to raise my feet and feel the motion. Stretched out and calm is how I feel surrounded by the couple of thousand fellow runners, who probably all have a story to tell just like mine, but today we share a common goal and are here to achieve it. 

Let's go, let's go, let's go! Off I go! Steady paced and with a stupid smile on my face, I 'm soaking  up the concrete and enjoying the suspension my legs give me. Don't sprint and overwork yourself with excitement is what I keep reminding myself. I'm absorbed in my music and don't hear a thing, but I can read the expressions on peoples faces. I pass the 2 km mark and look around to see many have slowed down, feeling a cramp just below their waist. Producing a sneaky smile, I swiftly jog past them and look at my watch.

"Vamos bien Goldie" I hear my trainers voice whispering in my head. I see the bystanders who are admiring the view. Some have cameras with them, others merely watching the show, but most of them take a moment to cheer us on. It's a stage I'm on and we are all leads today, no one is competing for first place because all are winners in this game. 

Gran Via des Corts Catalans is a privelage to run on, wide lanes with spectacular views. Keep looking further and it really has no end. I'm creating a bond with these streets, they treat me with respect and I do the same. 

Suddenly I feel my first testing moment. As I cut across Plaza Cataluñya and am about to enter into Las Ramblas, I can feel a pinching sensation in my chest. Go away, nobody invited you today. Don't steal my thunder! Gathering my happy thoughts, calm and serene I proceed to change the track on my carefully prepared playlist. Las Ramblas calls for a special something. Aahun aahun aahun , aahun aahun aahun, aahun aahun aahun aahun,  aahun aahun aahun! Is it normal that I want to break into a bhangra at this point? I am overwhelmed by the number of tourists that visit this spectacular street, and what overwhelms me more is having the honour of running through it today. I brush past many of them, rubbing shoulders with most of them. Zig zag, zig zag, zig zag is the only way out here. They are in awe of this sudden avalanche of bullets that are zooming through and most of them cannot contain themselves, so break into a cheer and once again remind me of the stage I'm on. 

4 km over, it's time for the final golden 1000m. How am I feeling? The Ramblas buzz has worn off and my legs are starting to tighten up a bit, sore shins remind me of the fact that I have not stopped once yet. Back up energy is now required and I make my appearance into Parallel. It's shocking this long long street seems way longer than what it actually is. I've slowed down my pace and I know this as most of them are over taking me. Should I just stop for a few minutes, I could walk and no one will ever know. I can't, not today! Go away, I told you no one invited you here... leave me alone and let me go. Track change! Ministry or Beyonce? I think it's desperate times, desperate measures... Ministry of Sound it has to be. Char suddenly pops into my head from no where. "Hello!" It's quite comforting having her there, as she reminds me how much she loathes RnB and loves Ministry. After that brief mental interlude, I focus and carry on to the finish line. 

Final 200m for a runner is like reaching out to Mecca , holding your baby for the first time, first kiss or simply being "in the zone". Am i in the zone? You bet I am!

My legs have lost sense in them, arms and hands are propelling at supersonic speed, my heels are actually touching my buttocks and I am on fire. As I cross it, I want to scream, scream so loud so everyone can hear me. I refrain! I dial 2010 and hear his voice... "I did it!!" He's so excited for me, he forgets to cancel the call and in the background I hear "Did mama get her medal?". I smile to myself and say "I got the medal, I sure did."

Getting Over - November 1999

A haunted past still rules my mind
Those days of passion embrace me over
The more I let go, the harder it grabs me
I swim to the surface, it pulls me deeper

Every thought contains you in it
Every event is filled by you
Nothing I do can free me from your shadow
It's a ghost which follows me around
My mind tells me no, but my heart says yes

I'm looking ahead, but my souls behind
I look behind, I see your footprints in my life
I close my eyes and I see you
I block my ears and I hear you
What am I supposed to do?

Every tune spells your name
Every place I go revolves around your presence
Every aroma is embedded by you
I can't help but think of you

There is anger
But also love
There is reality
But also dreams
There is so much clarity
And blurred confusion, far from reality

A mixture of feelings
Potpourri of emotions
I want you
And I don't

Painful Recollections - Nov 1994

I can still remember that wretched day when I was walking my way through those trampled leaves, up to school. They brushed the pavement like a scratch on dry skin. As I stepped on them, they made a crispy crunchy sound like the sweeping of rubbish that is collected at night. I left them shapeless, stippled and scattered. They had become wet, then dry and wet again from the sodden rain that kept gushing down and halting all through the night. The rain sound gave me a headache, banging bullets on the window pane. Oh how I despised this weather.

I could feel the bitter drop of temperature and absolute absence of warmth. My teeth kept gritting together, nose frozen and numb. As I produced clouds of smoke from my mouth, it was really the only thing that gave me momentary heat around my face. Oh how I longed for some hot milk to de solidify my poor limbs from this charming torture.

The intense cold had actually taken over me and other than shivering like a half dead dog, I did half wish I was sitting on a beach somewhere. The closest to a beach I had was the Eastbourne peer, where not only was there no sand, but it was also the most depressing town I had ever been to in my whole life. Who was I kidding?

In the far distance I could only see some houses and bare trees. The fog had made everything blurred and the picture I recall was a milk lacing over the horizon. It all looked confusing  and bizarre. Was my eye sight in jeopardy too?  Not a single soul in sight, the emptiness was more than evident when I realised I could only hear my own breathing. The world was hibernating and I was facing up to the laborious obstacles of hiking up to my God forsaken school which couldn’t have been on a higher hill. Carlisle Road looked wasted and squandered. Someone please paint some sunshine if that’s what it took!

My climax was without a doubt the winnowing wind which bit into my face and punched me straight out. Stiff and statuesque felt I , never will or want to forget that day for the rest of my life.

Feelings in Disguise - Jan 1997

Is the reality somewhat different?

Are my feelings really changing for you?

The joke no longer seems funny

“You seem to be the victim here honey!”

I see you with a different eye now

I want to see you more than before

Whatever you say sounds so affectionate

You play it on so well, I’m the fool who’s falling for you.

I want this to be real

Not just a pretend deal

Can you see it happening too?

I want you to see through me

And really know what I feel

What I say to you is no longer transparent

Why can’t you read the message, it’s so apparent

Emotions so strong, I cannot set apart

I’m flirting for real, it’s all from the heart

Sometimes I can almost see the answers in your eyes

I can sense the hidden passion rising

But resistance always comes our way

Do you hold back or do I?

I want some clarity

I want this tension to ease

I can’t continue like this

The truth cannot just remain a freeze

I like you - Feb 2000

I like you when you don't speak because you seem absent.
You can hear me from a far, but my voice does not touch you.
It's as though your eyes have flown away and as though one kiss has numbed you quiet.

The way all things are filled with my soul, you emerge from all these things, filled with my soul.
You emerge from all these things , filled with my soul
You are like a butterfly in a dream, you resemble my soul

I like you when you don't speak because you are distant
It's like you are complaining, like a butterfly in a struggle.
And you hear me from a far, but my voice does not reach you
Leave me alone so I can contemplate your silence.

Let me speak to your silence
Clear like a lamp, simple as a ring
You are like the night, quiet and composed
Your silence is like the stars, so distant and so simple

I like you when you don't speak because you seem absent
Distant and painful as if you've just died
Just one word or a smile are enough
And I'm happy, happy to know that it is not truth

Simply Vi - aa - Nov 2010

She wakes from her sleep and this is possibly one of the most gratifying moments of the day for a mother. Well rested, skin glowing, plump cheeks, hair messy but still has her stylishly bouncing curls. Yawning and snoozy she still is, but instantly produces a smile which translates to unconditional love, followed by a soft but clear "mama".

Her small torso immediately itches to move, detecting the constrained space of her cot. Up she stands on her feet and stretches out her arms, indicating me to carry her out. Momentarily she gives me a hug, nestling her small head on my shoulder, which somehow rests neatly for all children of this age. 

It's really non stop energy from then on. Red bull, caffeine or any stimulant is lame compared to the natural adrenalin her body produces. An express train with no determined stops is what she is from 8 to 8. 12 hours of a bustling boombastic firecracker. 

The agility of her movements is a show to watch. So small are her legs, but perfectly capable of climbing up the stairs endlessly and effortlessly infinite times a day. Her arms are supremely delicate but strong enough to bear the abundant items that fill her backpack.

Don't let her petite and fragile appearance fool you. Her voice is heard loud and clear when attention she seeks. Determined and transparent on what she wants, wont make compromises unless the terms are agreed on her rules. Youngest she is in the family hierarchy, but without a doubt has the power to wrap everyone around her little finger. 

Innocent her smile, purity drips from her eyes, harmless her expression, she is the definition of flawless, immaculate innocence. 

Playful and happy when things go her way. Piercing and fiesty when anything pisses her off or you get in her way! 

She will eat her food with up most grace, holding even a tiny grain of rice ever so delicately within her itsy bitsy fingers. Do you know how chocolate is best enjoyed? I don't think you do if you have not seen her savour, bite, lick, nibble and suck the pieces till they crumble and ultimately melt in and around her mouth. The traces around her lips accentuate her wicked and mischievous smile, which quickly transforms into an infectious giggle that literally takes your breath away. 

After an arduous long day of playing, eating, and how can we forget exercising her vocal chords... the beautiful torment adjourns for the day. Tucked away inside her bed, cuddling her "dolly",  twists and turns for a short while until she monologues herself to sleep. 

Peace and tranquility echo around her room as I watch her retire and dream away. Relaxed and anesthezised  is how I feel, the temptation is strong to hold and squeeze her, but I sigh my vice away and carefully step out. Tomorrow will be another day.