Pain

I once loved a woman
One time
She’s gone now
Once again I’m alone
Those eyes
I will never forget
Until I forget

In response to “A Painful Case”

Ubuntu

Dear Shylock.
I feel sorry for you now. It is not good for a person to be humiliated in the way you and your people have been treated through generations. I feel ashamed about Antonio's and the other Christians' behaviour towards you. You are right when you mention the slaves the Cristians have. Of course they should have given them their freedom back. Christians are not angels more than you are. But what good comes out of revenge? Revenge is a dangerous poison. Nelson Mandela and the black people in South Africa show us something important through their "Ubuntu" philosophy:"You can't exist as a human being in isolation. A person is a person through other persons. We think of ourselves far too frequently as just individuals, separated from one another, whereas we are connected and what we do affects the whole world. When we do well, it spreads out; it's for the whole humanity". If we all, both Jews, Christians and people from other religions, learn from the Zulu philosophy, I believe that the future would be brighter for the whole humanity.

Dear toilet

Dear toilet.

I've looked into you many times now,
but still nothing happens.
Every day I give you my everything,
but the mirror is still not accepting.
What more can I do?
How long do I have to continue?

Sinico's point of view

The pain
The rain
The loneliness
Did I fail to impress?

I can't bare it anymore
What happened?
How can he do that?
Please end this misery
The train is here

In response to "A painful Case"

Stars

One day, they met

the next she left

He waited

She came back 

They walked together

first in the light

then in the dark

She smiled

he laughed

They sang

He said:

Look at the stars

Then she left

They would always have the stars

In response to "Strange meeting"

Don't

Don't you think of growing up
because if you do you get older
and then you learn how to speak
and then you communicate
and then you meet someone
and then you fall in love
and then you marry
and then you have kids
and then they will follow you
and then you are old

Questions

Who is singing load and clear
and also with a touch of flair

When did quiet better sound
then vocals roaming free around

What am I supposed to do
if that sound comes not from you

Where will I be headed next
this best sound it has no text

Why will I be needing this
yes it's true life is a quiz

Endless Circle

A car
An accident
Doctor and injury

So far
So innocent
Never of cruelty

Things were changed
And rearranged

But time do heal
And life appeal

Pecola's poem

To see the world through blue eyes
must be happiness.
Everything would have that blue tint.
Bright.

Mine are brown,
and all I see
is tainted by that colour.
Dark.

If I had blue eyes
everything would be easy
and I would be happy.

Comment to The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

Dear Hema!

I have followed your story with great involvement. I think I've learned a lot about you by reading your story.
You have your parent's expectations hanging over you, but you desire to be an independent woman taking your own decisions. I can assure you. It's not easy for any person to start a life of their own. But of course, your background in a Bengali culture is very different from the common American way of living, and that presents you more challenges than other young people face. I was happy when I saw in the last story, that you met Kaushik again. I wished for you both that you could spend your life together. I can understand you keeping your promise to Navin, but I don't think I would have done the same. Now it's too late to regret. I hope for you that you will be pleased with your choice.

From an interested reader.
Posted by kari at 1:41 AM 0 comments
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Old Shakespeare

“All things that are,
are with more spirit
chased than enjoyed. “

This is what Old Shakespeare said.
hundreds of years ago.
Has anything changed?

More and more we want.
Wishing this
Wishing that
Seeking experiences
Working day and night
Getting exhausted
Filling the house
with more and more things
but when we have them
the problem is
A lot of black plastic bags
How to get rid of it all?

Is “Mule recycling plant” open ?

Dear Ruma
Dear Ruma !I hope you will find happiness with your husband and son in the new house you have moved to.Your father seems to be a good support for you. He is very clever with Akash. Maybe you should listen to your father who wants you to think of your own career. When the other baby is born, you could be at home for a while, and then start searching for a job as a lawyer. Then you will be more independant and satisfied. Anyway I wish you all the best, and maybe I'll come to visit you soon.Your dear friend Wenche

Special grandmothers
So, today we have discussed the short story; The grandmothers at school. I think we agreed it was an unpleasant story. How on earth is it possible to live a life like this, without the world around them knowing anything about what's going on in these two families. I felt uncomfortable reading about these relationships. The relationships these two women have to each others sons is just within limits of incest.

Strange Love

Look at him.
His name is A.
Fell in love with a girl.
What's her name?
Let's keep that at bay.
He never thought the day would come.
What happens now?

They looked at eachother.
And for a very long time.
Nothing was said.
Dead quiet.
This is strange.
What happens now?

In response to "Strange Meeting"

Cry

I have never felt like this before. The pain, the sorrowness, the blood, the death. Oh, how it hurts! My hands are sore, my back is aching. Everything are so heavy. I remember when I first came here. All the faces. All the scared faces. Now the faces are gone. Bang! I'm alone. The sun is shining.

In response to "How to Kill"

Who is blind?

What can I ruin?
Seems like it’s all I do
People are crashing around me
I don’t see death
I don’t see pain
I don’t see sorrow
I’m blind

In response to How to kill

Fisherman

I once was a boring man

Now I’m a fisherman

Why am I a fisherman?

Because I have nothing else to do?

Or because I love the sea?

No one knows

And I’d like to keep it that way

In response to The Old Man and the Sea

Cathedrals

Wherever I go on my travels- if there is a cathedral in the vicinity- I want to see it. I may admire the architecture and try to imagine the craftsmen building stone upon stone so many years ago. Most people were poor, but they managed to build grand cathedrals. In our time we complain about money and expense.

In Winchester Cathedral I visited the grave of Jane Austen. It was a simple stone slab on the floor. People could tread on it. Her relatives could not afford paying a few pounds extra for a grave closer to the altar. They had no idea that her books would still be popular almost 200 years after they were published! When central heating was installed in the 50´s, one of the pipes cut through a corner of Jane Austen´s grave. So she is nice and warm now, compared to what houses were like in her days.

So why this strange habit of visiting cathedrals? It is not only for the architecture, history or art. Maybe it is a necessary escape from our busy, high-tech, superficial, money-loving era in order to find tranquility and peace of mind.

My heritage

From my father I got my chubby cheeks and my sad- looking eyes.
He gave me my sense of humour and my loud, sometimes inappropriate laugh.
From my mother I got my blue eyes and my bad posture. She also gave me the ability to face life with a smile.
From them both I take with me wonderful childhood memories and the knowledge of how to be a good parent.

From my father's mother I got my morals however the best thing she gave me was a friend for life, and memories I still take with me years after her death.
From my mother's parents I got my love of nature and my love of travelling.
My older sister encouraged me to read and shared her love of literature with me.

Out of all of this: What am I most grateful for?
- That in spite of all these wonderful gifts given to me by the people I love the most, I still have that one little piece that is just ME.. ..

In response to "My Heritage"

Eveline´s Choice

I am so tired. I am sitting at the window at home, thinking. Soon I am going away. I am going to leave my home, and I shall marry Frank. He is kind, manly, open-hearted and he likes music. He calls me Poppens and he likes me. We are going by the night-boat to Liverpool. There we must wait for another ship for Buenos Ayres. Frank has a home there waiting for me, he says.

My father says never to trust a sailor. I have heard about another Dublin girl who went to Liverpool with her boyfriend. When he had got what he wanted from her, she was left to make a living on the streets. She can never return to Dublin.

My father has started threatening me. I must escape. Frank will save me. I have a right to happiness! But I have to leave the two children I promised mother that I would look after. What will happen to them?

The boat is massive, black. It is cold. I am feeling sick. I cannot breathe. I am choking! It feels like I am drowning! Please, God, give me a sign! Show me what to do! I cannot decide on my own! No! No! It is impossible!

Dreams

90 years

He had taken no risk

Lived on the safe side

Then one day he saw a man fulfilling his dreams

He took one breath

Closing his eyes in regret

"It's the life in your years that count, not the years in your life"

In response to "The old man and the sea"

Revenge

What does Shylock have left now? Nothing.
He has lost his money, his house, his respect and even his daughter.
All for the greed of money!

Or is it possible to understand his reaction?
He had been spat on, looked down upon and called awful things.
Walking out in daytime he had to wear a red hat so that everyone could see he was a Jew.
But they came to him when they needed money!

This time he should really get his revenge!

In response to The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare.

Eternity

He had it

Lost it

Finally realized:

You own only what you have lost.

In response to A Painful Case

My thoughts on racism

cRazy
dAngerous
Cruel
stupId
Scary
imMature

In response to Master Harold ... and the boys.

=)

He walked home alone. Just like every other day for the last thirty years. But a smile could not have been brighter than his, at this particular day. Finally, he felt like he was supposed to feel. Finally, he felt what he had wanted to feel like every day, his entire life, but never have managed to. Glad, meaningful and loved. And now it was here, all because of them.
A smile could not have been brighter than his could, at this particular day. And this, only because someone, they, had smiled at him.

Goalie

To suffer is not to suffer, as long as you gain something out of it. Getting hurt only hurts for a while. You can hate and you can love the exact same thing, as long as you love it more than you hate it. It is all meaningless, if you cannot see the meaning behind it all. When it hurts the most, and it doesn’t feel important – that’s when you look at the audience, your parents and your team mates. And that’s when you never will forget why you became a goalie in the first place.

Blind

He woke up because of the sun shining brightly in his eyes. He was lying in the sofa. The TV was still on. The whiskey bottle was empty. He knew that, someway or another, last night had changed him. If he liked the change or not, he couldn’t tell. He remembered mostly everything from the night before, all though some things were a bit blurry. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry on his behaviour from the day before. What had gotten into him?! Why had he said all those things, why had he thought those thoughts, and why had they done what they did?! All he knew was that, somehow, it had changed him. He looked at the table and saw the drawing they had made last night. He laughed, but at the same time shock his head. He was changed, all because of that man.

Red, white

The night was cold and dark, just like it had been for a long time now. Around her was only silence, only darkness, and she, standing in the middle of it all was wondering how long she had stood there. Her lips were red as blood, but her skin was white and pale as snow. Her blond, long curly hair was still there, but without the shine and the life, which it had used to show.
Had it always been this dark? Again, she could feel the tears rushing through; because she knew it had not.
She tried opening her eyes wider so she could look around. She might as well could have closed them, for what was there to see? Nothing was there anyway. She couldn’t feel. Couldn’t feel anything but silence. Silence, which lead to feel pain. It made her think about how long… How long had she stood there in the darkness?

Bitter sweet

Why I let them into me, I do understand.
I never was afraid to let them hold my hand.

They made me feel a happiness that I just had to show.
But what they really meant to me, they’ll never know

The Choice.

We chose him.
He will lead us well
we said.
He was charming
good looking.

She was disappointed with us
but said nothing.

We were like moths
drawn to his bright light
unable to see him
the way he really was.
The fire that would burn us.

Our whole civilisation brought to ruin.

Comment to The Reason for It by Doris Lessing.

My battle with The Old Man and the Sea.

It is time to start reading.
I do not know why I don't want to.
I start. The first page finished.
Put the book away.
Next day, new page.
Slow. Struggle on.
No, I think it is impossible.
Try reading in bed, but fall asleep.
How am I going to finish this book?
Hope for nice weather in May before the exam.
Everything is easier in the sun.

Comment to The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway

Why?

There it was
The text that made me feel sick
Why did you do it?
Was it because of me?
Could I have done something different?

We had many good times
We talked a lot
But you were married
And we knew that
And I wanted everyone to know that I knew that

I pulled away
Got scared
I hope you are in a better place
I love you
in a way

Just another love poem

As I fall asleep at night I think of
the simple things that shapes our love
A touch
simple things that makes us remember
that we are not facing tough challenges alone
anymore
a look
I admire you
a smile, just a smile says more than The Three Famous Words
Even if you don't smile I can see it
in your eyes
things, just simple things.

In response to "Love poems session".

My Heritage

From my mother I've got my musical skills and the ability to remember important phone numbers. From my father I've got an interest for wildlife and nature and never to hunt and kill animals that is not going to end up on the table. From my grandfather I've learned that humour is a very important ability, that people who laugh are in generally having a good time. From my grandmother I've learned that family and friends are the most valuable thing in life. From my uncle I've got an interest for gambling and other risky buisnesses - but my aunt taught me never to bet more than I can afford to lose.

In response to Linda Hogans Heritage.

lonely vs alone

I had no friends, but did not feel alone..
I had no family, but was not depressed..
I had seen bad things, but was not discouraged..

They brought light into my life
They provided company
They made me feel needed

Now I am the one in need
They were taken away from me
and now I know what could have been

I had felt lonely, but not alone
I had been sad, but not depressed
I had been broken, but was not destroyed

Now I know. I have nothing

In response to "uncle Ernest"

Sisters

We were always together, you and I. We loved wearing the same clothes and having my mother braid our hair the same way,
We presented ourselves as sisters. Never understanding why people never seemed to believe this.. To us we looked the same..

Two girls, both 7 years old. Hair braided at the back. We wore the same purple jacket, the same pink backpacks. We rode the same bike. Holding hands as we walked into the schoolyard.
One white hand. And one Brown.

We understood that day.
Why I never got the quetion that you seemed to be answering that whole first day of school. The question you found so difficult to answer.
"So, where are you from?"
They weren't satisfied with your answer.. You were obviously not Norwegian...

In response to "On the other side of the war"

She deserves more

She deserves more than a bed in a dingy apartment...
She deserves her own room, painted pink and filled with toys..
She deserves more than a mediocre education...
She deserves the opportunity of going to college and university...
She deserves more than sitting around the apartment with me..
She deserves going to musicals and shows...

She deserves more than ending up like her mother...
She deserves the best
She deserves more than I can give her...
So I am letting her go...
A desicion I hope will fulfill her dreams...
But that I know will destroy mine..

In response to "Victoria and the Staveneys"

Falling Silent

She is standing in front of the window, half behind the curtain.
Glancing, without happiness or hope,
as she is expecting someone she knows never appears.

I thought the rural surroundings would do her well.
That the small signs of spring, which every year makes her so light-hearted, would bring her back.

- But every pleasant sound, every trembling anticipation; every memory of a flirtation, loving touch and sweetness, have fallen silent.

“Nala?”

She twitches, and turns reluctantly; her eyes without lustre.
“Yes?”

I crumble.
“No. It was nothing.”
I can hear an echo of my voice. I turn and leave the room ... alone.

Written in response to "Not at Home" by Robert Graves

Dear Hema,

My dearest Hema, how are you holding up?
I know of your relationship whit Kaushik, and I was very happy for you; you would be a favourite daughter-in-law.
It was a big tragic for all of us, and I must say, that loosing my son almost killed me. I got a hart-attac, but I'm better now. Luckily I have my wife and daughters, and they manage to bring some light into my life. but I regret my ignorance to Kaushik's life. After his mother died, we drifted apart, and we had enough with ourselves.That brings me to my reason for writing to you: how was his last days? Do you know, was he happy? I hope so, and I hope that you two had a great time together. If you could find time to write a letter to me and tell me, I would be very greatful.Anyway, I wish you all the best, Hema.
Love, dr Choudhuri.

In respons to "Going Ashore", by Lessing

Rumas father

I’m a bit worried about my daughter, Ruma. She is a well educated woman and used to work at a law firm. In New York she worked part-time at her law firm and I think that was a good solution. But after her mother died and they moved to Seattle she has just stayed at home with her son. I hope she will go back to work after this child is born, but she says she is not ready yet. It seems to me that she is going back to a more traditional way of life, - she at home with the children while her husband is at work. I think that is very old fashioned. Besides, I’m afraid she will be lonely. They have just moved to Seattle and her husband is away all the time.
I’m also afraid she will ask me to live with her. She thinks I’m lonely now after her mother died and the tradition of our Bengali culture is to take care of ones parents. But I’m not ready to move inn with her. I’m quite happy with my life, especially after I met Mrs. Bagchi. We have made plans for new travels and we enjoy each others company. But I can’t tell Ruma yet. She still misses her mother too much.
It is so many things we should have talked about, but it is so difficult. She was so close to her mother. They talked about everything. I’m a man of few words, but hopefully the garden I have made for her, and the time I have spent with her and Akash, makes her understand that I love them and care for them.
We’ll talk the next time I visit them, I think.

In response to "Unaccustomed Earth" by Jhumpa Lahiri

My weekend in Dorset

My first weekend at the countryside.
So this is what it is like, the life at the countryside! I was looking forward to spend this weekend with Mary and the Staveneys. Since I had never been in Dorset before, I didn’t exactly know what I expected from this place, but certainly not this. I cannot imagine why they consider being in that small house without any comfort as a recreation. I will definitely think of it as a horrible place. I didn’t like the small old-fashioned house, or the surroundings outside the house. And all the creepy insects and spiders which were everywhere, even in my bedroom! Everything turned out to be different from what I had thought of. My clothes were wrong, my shoes were wrong…….To say in a word: I didn’t fit in! Despite of this, it seemed that Mary perfectly fitted in.
In response to “Victoria and the Staveneys “by Doris Lessing.

The Insignificant Difference.

Two children are playing – they jump and they run.

They’re laughing out loud ‘cause the game is so fun.

But people look angrily at their game in the park,

‘cause one child is white while the other is dark.

 

The children are tired – they want to sit down.

One can take the bench, the other sits on the ground.

The reason for this is a sign saying no

to people with skin that is not white as snow.

 

Today they are friends despite the difference of their skin.

But one day might come when they see this as a sin.

I can only wish that they later will say:

“We are all equal.” It might happen one day…

 

In response to Master Harold … and the boys.

 

Dear Ma and Pa

Dear Ma and Pa.
Almost a year has gone since I left home in Thailand. I miss you. But I have a good life in Norway. My husband and his family are very kind to me. He works as a construction worker. Every Sunday evening he leaves home and travels to his working place far from here. Thursday evenings he comes home again. Then I make him hot soup, he loves that.
I work as a cleaner in the Primary school and I am taking a Norwegian course on Mondays and Wednesdays. I have got some friends.
Now we are planning to build a new house in a small place close to my husbands parents. It is so quiet here, not like the noisy town back home.
Best wishes
Jing

In response to "On the Other Side of the War: A story" by Elizabeth Gordon

Neel alone in the tub.

I love to take a bath! I was so pleased when my uncle, Rahul, carried me to the bathroom and started to fill hot water in the tub. He helped me to undress, and at last I was sitting in the tub with a plastic cup to play with.

Mummy and daddy went to the movies this afternoon, while my uncle from America is looking after me. Or is he? He played with me for a little while, but suddenly I think he got thirsty. I saw he drank something from a bottle. Then he disappeared!
I can't see him any longer. I tried crying, but that didn't help. He didn't turn up!
I'm freezing.The water has turned cold, and it isn't fun to sit in the tub anymore. I'm sleepy, and I want to go to bed.

Uncle Rahul!! Where are you? Please, come and help me! You promised my parents to look after me.
I don't like my babysitter anymore. Has he forgotten me, his little nephew?

In response to "Only Goodness" by Jhumpa Lahiri.

Image

A snowman
A snowangel

A snowwall
A snowball

We had it all

Nothing left
But memories

It is not the colour

We look a like
We talk a like
We walk a like

We are red
We are orange
We are yellow
We are green
We are blue
We are brown
We are black
We are white

But I am just like you

Alone

I'm standing here alone.
All the others in front of me.
I'm the last person.
If they other fail
I can't fail.
A lot of preasure.
Can I save us?
Am I able to save the team from humiliation
Or will we lose?
In the end, it is all up to me.

(in response to "Goalie")

Who?

I was born in this country
I grew up in this country
But do I belong in this country?

My parents were born somewhere else
They grew up somewhere else
Do they belong somewhere else?

They moved here years ago.
Had a hard time adapting this new society
Who are they? Who am I?

It is not easy
to find it self
Am I this or am I that
Not easy.

(In response to Unaccustomed Earth)

Love Cake

Receipe for Love Cake

1 Teaspoon of patience
2 Tablespoons of pampering
3 Cups of personality
4 Pounds of PASSION

Then mix to perfection

Be careful not to add any pessimism if you want your cake to taste good.

Flowers of the world

Together with flowers

Alone with flowers

Without flowers

ALONE

Hurt

It hurts
It burns
When will I learn
I would like to turn
But it's to hard

The Raven

It was Winter, and two girls were out playing in the snow. Suddenly they found a hurt raven bleeding in the snow. At first they both believed that the raven was dead, but when they came closer they could see that the raven was moving, so they picked him up, and took him home. There they gave him food and a little self-made bed to sleep in. The next day the raven was gone but in the little bed he had left a black feather to tell the girls that he was ok, and thank you.

My heritage

From my mother I got my brown eyes and my strength. From my father I got mye sense of direction and my ability to take care of others. From my brother and sister I learned that family is the greatest gift of all. From my niese I discovered how painful it is to miss someone and how amazing it is when you meet again. From my grandfather I got my "quick tounge" and sense of humor. From my grandmother I got my looks and a beatiful memory of a loving lady.

In respons to Linda Hogans Heritage

Loneliness

Loneliness

Loneliness is such a strong emotion, how do each of us deal with it on a daily basis, are some better equipped than others? In the end do we all succumb to its power?
Humans are a social animal and need togetherness, acceptance and human contact to survive. There are over ten billion people in the world and yet our closest and common friend is with loneliness.
There is the awareness of global warming that could destroy our planet, shouldn’t there be an awareness of global loneliness that could destroy the human spirit?
Loneliness is something we hide, we are embarrassed to admit that we are alone and feeling lonely. We are some how less of a person if we can’t cope with this emotion. We feel ashamed if we ask for someone’s company. People think of loneliness as a dirty word something we all know but never say. We can sit in a room with one hundred people and still feel alone.
Reaching out to other human beings has become so fearful in this day and age, we would rather just be alone than take the chance of being rejected. Fear of rejection, fear of inadequacy, fear of unacceptable behavior, fear of being misunderstood, fear of outdated attire, fear of the next door neighbor, fear of being raped, fear of being robbed, fear of the devil, fear of not being liked, fear of fear…….. Fear has become such a high priority that it blocks humans from other humans it creates loneliness.
There is a saying ”Fear is the mind killer” and it is so true.

By Susan Gail Barlien

I am planting Ruma a garden

I am planting Ruma a garden
delphiniums
myrtle
phlox
hostas
clematis
hydrangea
marigolds
impatiens
gladiola bulbs
I may have buried them in unfriendly soil
Will they be cared for?
Will they bloom?
Will they be overgrown with weeds?
Will they vanish, earth to earth?

Written in response to Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri

Race discrimination.

In the beginning of the play we witnessed the friendship between the white teenager, Hally, and the black servant Sam.
We got to know how the young boy and the middle-aged servant had developed a strong and close friendship over the years.
This friendship was put to a test in the play. Hally was frustrated because of the demanding behaviour of his father.

He was in hospital, and when Hally discovered that his father would be sent home already the next day, he got angry, and he took all his anger and disappointment out on Sam, his good and helpful friend.

After having been friends, Hally chooses to be the master, and he forced Sam to call him "Master Harold". A situation developed that made Sam feel worthless. While working in The Tea Room, his coloured skin had never before been a disadvantage, but now Hally made him feel subservient.

He was humiliated in the worst way when "Master Harold" spat in his face.

I think the author managed to describe the quarrel between the men very well. We pity the kind and helpful Sam, but we also feel sorry for young Hally with his sudden change in behaviour.

In response to "Master Harold...and the boys" by Athol Fugard.

An H for human race.

Elizabeth was born in Saigon but grew up in Tennessee. She tells about several situations that occured when the family settled in America.

When Elizabeth started school, for instance, her mother had to fill out different forms. She managed most of them by herself, but there was one question she didn't know how to answer.
Elizabeth had a Vietnamese mother and an American father. What race would that be? American? Vietnamese? Asian?

The mother had to ask her husband what to write there. He was angry at first, but after a while he found the solution: "Write an H in the blank. For human race."

I think that was a clever answer! We're all equal, and we are equally worthy no matter who our parents are, where we're born or where we settle!

In response to "On The Other Side of the War: A Story" by E. Gordon.

Thoughts described with adjectives.

A man is sitting in a restaurant - lonely.
He's eating his meal alone - indifferent.
His memories from the war - troublesome.
His plans for the future - vague.

lonely - indifferent - troublesome - vague.

Two small girls are arriving - hungry.
Sitting at his table - curious.
He's giving them money - thankful.
At last he's got company - friendly.

hungry - curious - thankful - friendly.

Policemen are walking him out - frightened.
Asking him odd questions - ashamed.
Accusing him of abuse - angry.
Denying him seeing the girls - sorry

Frightened - ashamed - angry - sorry.

RUMOURS! INJUSTICE! What next?

In response to "Uncle Ernest" by Alan Sillitoe.

My heritage

From my grandfather I've got my respect for other people.From my sister I've got a mirrorFrom my mother I've got my ways of thinkingFrom my father I've got my looksFrom my children I've got my patienceLucky me...

30 years later.

- Do you remember the old, strange man we met in the pub when we were little? He gave us food and presents. I can't remember his name.. I wonder what happened to him?- Don't you remember? No you were so little at that time. He wasn't welcome in the pub anymore. I think the other customers thought he abused us. A shame, though, we could eat properly, and I remember all the gifts he gave us. We had a splendid time.- But what happened afterwards? We never saw him again, did we?- No, we didn't. I think I heard from the other customers later, that he was seen roaming the streets with a bottle in his hand, dirty and filthy. I don't think he ever spoke to a human beeing in his whole life. He was a nice man, it's a shame, really ... more tea?In response to uncle Ernest

dear Dad

Dearest dad.I just wanted to thank you for your visit last months. We had a great time, and Akash is asking for you every day, missing you. We all hope you will come visiting us again very soon.I must tell you that I found a postcard left behind to a mrs. Bagchi. I couldn't avoid reading it, and I must say it pleases me that you have got a good friend.At first, I must admit, it was difficult for me, regarding mum's memory. But now I know that what's important, is your happiness, because then I'm happy.I hope you bring here with you the next time you come to visit, we have plenty of space. And I need you round me, just like the beautfiul flowers in my, or shall I say, your garden.Hope to see you soon, dad.Love from Rama.In response to Unacustomed Earth

Anorexia

Her room is pure chaos, clothes and beauty magazines everywhere. She claims that she is ugly, fat, nobody likes her or understands her. Nothing you say reassures her. You ask her if she has eaten anything? Yes, she did before you came home from work. She is not hungry now. You open the fridge to see if any food has been taken. You search the dustbin to find remnants of her meal. You reveal nothing.

You recall a lovely little girl, clever, artistic, sensitive, timid. She loves pink clothes and Barbie dolls. You don´t know that the other children tease her and say she is fat. You remember at thirteen she gets thinner. You believe she is growing taller until you, after some months, realize she has stopped eating.

You see her putting on layers of clothes and withdrawing from her friends and her family. You watch her sitting passively in front of the television glaring at soap operas and films. On the table in front of her are empty coffee cups and a bag of sugar-free licorice gums.

While you are asleep at night she steals out for long runs, doing 200 sit-ups when she returns, oblivious to the fact that her frail body may break down from exhaustion. Once you catch her training in town, during the day. You take her home in your car, shocked, afraid, angry. She is indifferent. And you wonder where your daughter is, underneath Anorexia and all that comes with it.

You stop asking her whether she needs help. Because you know her answer. In the end you realize that she is in agony and you cannot live her life for her. You have to keep some distance to survive - and find help somewhere.

Make Her White And Good

Some children one day made a woman of snow.

She was supposed to be fair and white as a dove,

but the factory pipes that stood all around

gave a grey colour to the snow on the ground.

 

The children that made her thought it was sad

that their Duchess of snow looked all evil and bad.

Together they wished that the heaven would send

new snowflakes to make her shine white in the end.

 

In response to Snow Image / Snow Child / Snow Maiden.

Nicola

I know my mother is coming today. Judith told me. She and Don are going to pick her up at the airport. I also know she will be asking for me, immediately thinking of an accident or even worse, when I’m not there to meet her. But I’m so tired of all the questions and her worries about my life. I need some time to sort things out. I’m so confused at the moment. The Conservatory was not the right study for me. I realize that now. But my mother talked about it for months and so I let myself be persuaded. I know my mother just wants the best for me, but I’m not twelve years any more. I have to make my own decisions, even my own mistakes. I have decided to stay incommunicado for a while and I have asked Judith to inform my mother that I’m ok. That is all she needs to know at the moment. I hope she will understand and respect my choice.
I’ll be in touch again, sometime…..

In response to “ The Moons of Jupiter” by Alice Munro

Bad Communication.

I still remember the day you came to me…

You were the most beautiful baby I could see.

And suddenly you’ve grown to a little boy.

Alongside is your hockey stick, which is your favourite toy.

 

The years went by and you became a young man.

You are old enough to take your life in your own hand.

I know you’ll make me proud. About that I have no doubt.

But I didn’t see that growing up meant that you would shut me out.

 

Now I look at you and I cannot understand

how our communication got so out of hand.

I have so many thoughts I would want you to know,

but I’m too much of a coward. My self-esteem is too low.

 

My love for you is still so strong

so I cannot understand where everything went wrong.

Now I wait for the day when I will dare to say:

Whatever will happen – come what may – I will love you till my last living day.

 

In response to Goalie.

Roses and Blood

Red roses bloom in the park
But beware of they’re thorns cause it is dark…

If you prick your fingers
Blood will drop…

A black raven cries from a chimney top

(In response to “The Snow Child”)

Dear Mrs. Bagchi

You don't know me! But I dare to write to you.
I understand that you know my father? How do I know?
I sensed it the minute he arrived. Something undefined, something new.
He was changed! My father was changed!He seemed much happier now.
And I finally understood: It was not just with Akash that my father had fallen in love.
He has fallen in love with you, Mrs. Bagchi!
Does it make me happy, or does it make me sad?
I realized: I miss my mother, I miss her so much!It will take some time.
But still, I'm glad, I'm happy for my father!

So: We have the assurance to invite you to our sons birthday. Akash is three this autumn. We think that it is important that Akash grows up knowing his grandparents. I think there exists a special bond between my father and Akash!

My husband and I are looking forward to meet you! Pleace accept our invitation! I wish you every happiness.

With sincere regards from Ruma.

Only of goodness?

Giving him a bottle of bear,
only of goodness?
Giving him a packet of cigarettes,
only of goodness?
Excuse his behaviour,
only of goodness?
Endure his behaviour,
only of goodness?
Tidy his room,
only of goodness?
Let him stay out all night,
only of goodness?
Let hin sleep the whole day,
only of goodness?
Make him a lunch packet,
only of goodness?
Let him off school,
only of goodness?

No!!Doing that,
is malice!

Doing that,
is doing him a disservice!

He's a grown up now!
It's his life and his choice!

Let him off!

FROM UNCLE ERNEST'S DIARY.

I am so humiliated! They dragged me out of the cafe as if I were a criminal. What are they insinuating? Am I a kidnapper or a child molester?
When those men came up to me in the cafe, accusing me of having bad intentions, I just wanted to laugh. I had no words. They said they knew me, but they don't.
I'm a responsible man. I work and pay for myself. I may not be well dressed, but I'm not dishonest! I guess I just don't fit in and because of that I'm not accepted. They've put me in a pigeon hole.
The girls - I just liked their company and liked listening to them. We were friends. I saw their poverty and was grateful to be able to help them. I wanted to do a good thing. After all these years of loneliness I felt I had something to live for.
Now I'm back to my lonely life. My only hope of being able to talk to someone, is going into a pub and going getting drunk. I've always thought I didn't care what other people think of me. But I guess that's really impossible. I'm really disappointed. I've served my country - and this is the thanks I get?

PAULINE'S THOUGHTS.

Now there's just the two of us, since Cholly died and Sammy ran away. And this time I believe it's for good. How will I manage to take care of Pecola by myself? After all, I have my work. At her age I was a responsible young woman, in charge of the household and my two younger siblings.
I'm really worried about Pecola. She's changed. People are talking - I've heard them. They say she's gone mad and I'm willing to agree. She's constantly looking in the mirror, talking to herself. I try to get her attention but she avoids eye contact.
I'm not to blame. They have ruined her. She's made up stories, saying her father raped her. He sure was a drunk loser, but he would never do that. They've ruined her, by listening to her lie stories. I was so angry - I beat her almost to death. I just couldn't stop.
I used to love her so much - before she was born. When I first saw her, I was really disappointed; she was such an ugly little creature. I wonder if things could have been different if she hadn't been so ugly.
But what can you expect, growing up in this miserable home? I did what I could, working hard to provide food and whatever else the children needed. I can fully understand Sammy, running away from everything. We don't belong here, but now it's too late. We're trapped.

Neighbour gossiping.

Have you noticed that Mrs. Johnson next door seems to have changed lately? There's definitely something going on. Wicked tongues say she has a secret lover.
She's been seen with a much younger man from the soccer team. They were observed wandering on the beach. He was looking more than friendly interested and she was giggling like a school girl. Pathetic!
What about her family? She's got a husband and three small children. I talked to the poor lad the other day, but he appeared to be totally unknowing about his wife's adventure.
Hopefully she'll come to her senses, at least for the sake of the children.

DANCING LESSON

Wet and windy afternoon.
The waiter wears
a white coat.

Put my money in.
Get record ready.
Pillow practice with no partner.

Sam says:
Don't dance
straight and stiff - but with style!

Hold her tight
- arms around her.
Looks like romance.

Don't look down.
Trouble trying too hard.
Back straight! Body relaxed!

Hit her hard.
Look and learn.
Mustn't make mistakes.

Around all the time.
Make no mistakes!

What have I done?

The rain is pouring down
I’m wet and cold, my body is shivering.
Thoughts are rushing through my mind,
Heavy hart beats banging in my chest
like after a long exhausting run.
What have I done?

I settle myself on a bench
taking deep breaths, trying to calm down.
It is late!
The evening sky is getting darker above me.

Then words flush up
like gasoline on fire inside my mind:
“I’m not the one who is going to get hurt!”

My father will be proud.
I love my father!
Me, finally being a man!
I’ll tell him as I give him his brandy and comics.
Then what?

I know.
The door to the study will be closed.
Silence, while my father consumes brandy
along with the comics.
Then – nothing, or maybe
he will call for me.
Telling me he is proud of what I have done.
“The boys are boys remember.”
“They are less worthy than us,
less intelligent you know.”
“They need to know their place.”
“Haven’t I always told you?”
But still……

The rain is pouring down.
Here I am, sitting on the bench
“White people only”
My inner riot fills me with anger and sadness,
makes me unable to move.
Heavy rain falls down on me as the evening darkness thickens.
No kite can reach the sky.
All by myself,
I wonder, “Master Harold”
-are you the one to get hurt?

In response to “Master Harold”… and the boys by Athol Fugard

With My Lips Only

I know I'm dishonest
but I can't help it
I say to myself
It's with my lips only
It's not with my heart

To my husband I lie
for the children's sake
I say to myself
It's with my lips only
it's not with my heart

LKK
Inspired by Robert Graves' "With Her Lips Only"

Still in Love

Her house loomed
At the end of Berkshire lane.
No reply,
No movement.

I waited three long minutes.
"Her ladyship is
Not at home?"
"Her ladyship will
Be away some weeks."

The sun went in.
A bleak wind
Shook the blossom.

I felt her eyes
Boring my back.
Behind a curtain slit,
And still in love.

LKK
Inspired by Robert Graves' "Not at Home"

My Heritage

From my mother the red chair
which I sit in every night.
The patience and capability of structure,
I need in my job as a mom.
The colour of my hair,
the wrinkles around my eyes,
and the extra weight around my waist
I got from her.

From my father I got my length,
my green and brown eyes.
The joy of being around people,
and from that my social skills.
The love of nature,
my good spirit and desire
of going abroad
I got from him.

LKK
Inspired by Linda Hogan's "Heritage"

Cathedral

Make your home a Cathedral.
build it high and strong.
Fill it with people
from all over the world,-
laughter and happiness.

Stop them who wants to intrude
with a negative outlook on life
prejudce, suppression
or even hate.

Make the people inside blossom
with all their colours and shapes
smal, big
rich, poor
black, coloured, white
blind, seeing
.......................

Can you all see
how beautiful we are?


In response to "Cathedral" by Raymond Carver.