You must learn to make it on the broken pieces (a poem) 2 Feb 08

I am a specialist in patchwork accessories
and all-season wreaths
in which you can use anything that sparkles!
I struggle with jigsaw that have a predetermined outcome,
lego is a bit square,
but at least you can make with it what you want.
If you then give me paint and brushes
I excel, choosing beautifully broken pieces of colour
and harmonising them on paper.
Even poems...the art is in the mix of verbal ingredients,
plenty of space for broken sentences
scrumptious like cookie crumbs.
I love broke pieces. Whole cut-outs are boring!

Emotional Beggar (a poem) 11 Jan 08

A few unanswered calls
when I needed to talk
and to listen to some words of affirmation,
while physical affection is the obvious absentée,
leave me out in the cold
with my tiredness and stress
of yet another self-imposed change
along this road marked by parting shots
to my heart.
emotions that shake with every plane ticket,
I change my mood like I change my clothes
from swealtering in the african heath
to freezing under my bunker of coat-scarf-hat-gloves.
feeling ashamed
that I've been behaving like an emotional beggar
expecting you to drop happiness
into my cup.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop (a poem) from 3 Jan 08

19 when I left and walked out of a monotonous background
of grey,
suits and stiff hairdos,
that I now see has taken over even the colour of your skin.
Critics with in-built blinkers,
Threatened by a gesture which dismantles the repetitiveness of your generational immobility.
Superstitious in your religiosity, where you're only required to adapt without your inner self being involved.
31 when I realize
that even as you watch me and proclaim congratulations
you cannot comprehend
and subconsciously you are
waiting for the other shoe to drop:
for me to come back and surrender to your schemes, to ditch my freedom in the name of security,
but I started walking barefoot a long time ago!