‘Twas Not the Night Before Christmas

T’was a few hours before lockdown, when all through The Cave;

A misfit was writing, thinking of a Knave

Her Macbook was charging with fans a-whir

Knowing that tomorrow work still awaited her

Her thoughts raced quickly on a track of their own;

She felt a foreboding about being alone;

Interesting times we’re living in, the whole wide world,

Much time we’ll be spending in bed, upcurled,

Thinking of life as it was before the virus,

No, my darling, COVID! Not meningitis.

An essence of fear hangs in the air,

We’ve a way to go, but we shall get there.

Our streets will be quieter with no cars on the road

Nature will heal and you’ll hear the call of a toad

Smile, because when confinement is over

You will appreciate everything, even a tiny clover

Lockdown’s a sacrifice, that feels unfair and untrue

But Cyril’s done it, for me and for you.

Be a good citizen now, don’t move around,

For if you do, you may be jailed to sleep on the ground.

Now, COLLEAGUES! now, NEIGHBOURS! now, FAMILY and FRIENDS!

In, HOUSEHOLDS! in, SHACKS! in, FLATS and BEDS!

Remain indoors between the walls! read a book if you so feel!

Don’t go out! stay at home! That’s the deal!

It’s 21 days, and yes they’ll be long,

But when you feel morbid, sing a song.

Lockdown your loved ones, don’t social, or mill

BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T, CORONA WILL KILL!

Copyright: Priscilla Fick

2019, Goodbye!

As the sun begins to set on 2019

I reflect on where I am,

what was,

what might have been…

I remember the rivers I cried:

How, in March, I wished I had died.

So much has changed this year

Yet much is the same

Family, friends, job, dreams

Yet the solid ones remain my team.

I remember the laughter and smiles:

Gatsby, weekends away, foresty miles.

Photo by Johannie van der Hoven (c)

Often it was tough, but mostly good;

I loved and lost and stumbled and fell

But like a Phoenix, I rose

and finally understood

I remember feeling undefeatedly victorious:

The freedom of turning forty, so joyous!

Photo by Liezel Volschenk Photography (c)

Photo by Liezel Volschenk Photography (c)

Photo by Liezel Volschenk Photography (c)

Excitement grew, as did my dreams:

Of travel and writing

Of leaving what’s safe, to open my mind

To see new places, to spread my wings.

I remember the sad goodbye of dear, dear friends,

But our bond is stronger than time’s end.

I remember standing in speechless awe

Of the Mighty Zambezi and Victoria Falls

As 2020 looms, undoubtedly with challenges of it’s own

I take solace knowing I won’t have to face them alone.

Cheers!

**Unless otherwise specified, all photos are my own and my not be used without my prior written permission.**

To Love, or Not to Love…

…Either way, you’re going to end up broken-hearted.

While Lord Alfred Tennyson wrote the poem, In Memoriam A.H.H. about his best friend who died while travelling abroad, it is often mistaken to be about heartbreak following a breakup.  After all Tis better to have loved and lost,/Than never to have loved at all is one of the most famous lines.

I was triggered into a spiral of sadness this morning, by a well-meaning colleague who joked, “is it age that’s making you forgetful?  Or are you in love?” I merely replied, “Being in love brings trouble.” He laughed and said, “Not too long ago you were so in love you were glowing.” I wanted to reply, something witty of course, to hide the stab of immense pain I suddenly felt at his correct observation, but my mouth had turned to the Sahara and my brain was completely blank: an empty, dark void.  In that moment that felt like an eternity, I could feel the burn in my eyes and the longing for being in love with my best friend, who just wasn’t able to reciprocate my deep-seeded starry-eyed passions.  In those fleeting few seconds, I felt like a complete failure, wondering why I’m always the proverbial bridesmaid, but never the bride; why I’m always one of the boys, but never the one for the boys.

I don’t have a bad life; not at all.  I have abundant blessings:

Incredible parents; solid, reliable friends, a well-paying job with decent colleagues, a car to drive, a comfortable flat, food when I’m hungry, my health and opportunities to see new places and experience new things (not as often as I’d like, but still).

I embrace my singledom, because I know many people would love to be in my shoes; not tied down by a husband, wife, kids or even pets, but sometimes it is lonely.  Sometimes there are things that would be so much more enjoyable coupled with a romantic partner.

So today I’m in a mood of reflection… was Lord Tennyson right?  Today it doesn’t feel like it ☹

 

Reblog: Solitary Confinement

Funny, I had a totally different idea of what I’d post tonight.  I even typed an entire post, but then delved through my archives, and found this, which seven years to the day, accurately describes my mood today.  The last week has been a tough, emotional one.

 

https://reflectionsofamisfit.wordpress.com/2012/09/17/solitary-confinement/

 

 

 

Reblog: The Beauty Within

August is Women’s Month and out of the blue at work something stirred in my soul today, telling me to reblog this post I wrote last year; that someone needs to be reminded that she is a Beautiful Warrior.  I don’t know who you are, but I hope you know that you’re special!

https://reflectionsofamisfit.wordpress.com/2018/06/08/the-beauty-within/

 

The Beauty Within

My friend, Jenna, gave me the following brief:

“The Beauty Inside

How about something to inspire us who are not able to see our worth or beauty in a cruel world.”

I have been thinking about this since I first read her comment.  I had a few ideas I was toying with but decided that something unconventional would be the best route to go with this subject.

The Lady Without a Name

She is there on the park bench; the lady without a name

I see her every Friday, like we play some kind of game

 

Her sight is straight ahead – an empty, lifeless gaze

I see something on her cheekbone, it’s clearly a graze

 

She wears pretty clothes, but something’s clearly amiss

She’s a classic beauty, not at all a ‘Miss Pris’

 

Her eyes are dark pools, rich and deeply clear

It’s only when she blinks them, that I notice her tears

 

I wonder what she’s thinking, what’s making her sad

Or is she crying because she’s irate; flaming mad?

 

Excuse me. What’s the matter? Yes, I am bit nosy

Before she can protest, I hand her a posy

 

Oh, Sweet Girl, it’s my husband, you see

He words are cruel and hateful, and he beats me

 

I too have been there, I know her pain

But us women are warriors – rainbows after the rain

 

Tell me what he said, I ask, the reason you’re so blue

Men that treat women badly, they’re a Motley Crew

 

Her lips tremble as she begins to speak

Her voice is so quiet, barely an audible squeak

 

He called me useless: A whore!

He said I’m stupid,

A bad mother

Decayed at the core

 

The tongue cuts deep, a double-edged sword

That I do believe, as it is written in the Word of the Lord

I take her hand in mine, and give it a squeeze

Listen to me now, and believe this, please.

The world may be cruel, dark and dim

But you have a special light, that shines within

You are unique, special and I can sense, kind

Don’t let anyone who can’t see that make YOU feel blind!

It may not be easy, but you have the power to leave

No person should choke your living, disallowing you to breathe
Despite the rank darkness of the world today

You are important, you have a fated role to play

I also know it’s easy for me to talk

I don’t wear your shoes, I don’t know your walk

What I do know is this, we’re women; warriorly fighters

We sacrifice of ourselves all the time, to make others’ burdens lighter

There is beauty in you, and hidden gems too

You work to fill others, it’s what we do

Be hopeful, be happy, choose to be free

Others have done it, you can too!

She rose from her seat, no tear in sight

Thank you, she said, woman of might!

It’s been a year since that Friday, her bench has been empty

But she’s moving and shaking, with good deeds a-plenty

I’ve heard she shares her story, no longer with shame

That incredible lady, without a name.

images

Movie of my Life

A lot of heartbreak has happened in the last few weeks.  G.T and I have apologised to one another, but what there was between us is something of the past.  In my heart I know that we may bump into each other again, but the possibility of reconciliation – romantically, or even as friends, is nil.  As hard as it is, I’m okay with it.  I am slowly getting my focus back, which feels so good!

I asked Carmen what the first word was that popped into her head and she said, “Cinema”.  My initial reaction was, “Oh-Kay?!”…but turns out that it is exactly what my Muse wanted to hear…

Image

Movie of my Life

 

The room is dark

Its bouquet dank

I’m alone with my thoughts

The ghosts of my life fill the other seats

 

A familiar click of the eight millimetre reel

Shifts my mind’s focus

A quick flicker of light hushes the formless voices

To concentrate on the story being told

 

Dressed in a pink baby grow and swaddled in fleece

A tiny little mite sleeps peacefully in her crib

Her Mother beams with joy, hope and pride

Little Mite’s life lies ahead, a journey, hopefully one helluva ride

 

Little Baby Bunting sitting on a bright bunnied bedspread

Squealing with delight as she plays with a cute kitten

Her laughter echoes off the walls, Her Mother smiles

Neither one of them is aware of the awaiting life-trials

 

Uniformed in red and white, smiling bright, school begins

This six year old serious child isn’t scared

She runs ahead without looking back – excited, challenged

Her Mother’s weeping so, her eyes are redly flared

 

She stares out of the bus window into the black night

The sounds and lights of the city fade into the distance

She knows in her soul this is necessary, but her heart still aches

Her Mother knows best – life can change in an instant

 

Dressed in gold and black for a final year school event

She’s transformed from petulant teen into a young woman

Her Mother smiles wishing her the best, knowing by experience

So much still lies ahead for her child in Life’s tests

 

I shut my eyes to the images on the screen

As a solitary tears escapes down my cheek

My Mother has made so many sacrifices for me

She has always been strong, even though she’s felt weak…

Yearning

I woke up on Sunday morning, opened the blinds and smiled with relief when I saw the blue skies because I wanted to take a solitary nature walk, to connect with a part of myself that I miss.

Image

(Photo from saidaonline)

Alas, the weather has turned foul, so my plans were shelved for the moment.

I had had some friends round the night before for a small get together.  We had a few laughs and when everyone had left and I was doing the last of the dishes, I suddenly felt like someone had ripped my heart out.  Just.  Like.  That.  I waited until everyone had let me know they’d arrived home safely and I crawled into bed.  Horrid dreams plagued me all night.  I was awake at five am again…

I had my morning shower and put on some Lady Antebellum – it’s great Sunday music.  The strangest thing happened when All We’d Ever Needed started playing – I was overwhelmed by a flood of tears and a gut-wrenching yearning…for someone.  The question is who?  Some days being alone really gets to me; it makes my heart ache so badly. My folks got home from a weekend away and we went out for lunch to a local steak house called Cattle Baron.  Elizabeth joined us, as did Aunty Carol and Uncle Barry.  Lunch was divine, as were some shooters…but even more scrumptious was our waiter, a tall, dark haired, blue eyed god called G.T.  The old folks left and Elizabeth and I stayed behind, drinking coffee – but G.T I’m sure knew we stuck around to just perv over him.

After I got home, the Sunday blues grabbed me again, so I forced myself to write something – I have had no inspiration for quite a while now and many people notice that I’m devouring books.  What they don’t know is that as long as I’m reading, I’m not writing much.  I read three novels last week…

Yearning

A simple tune drowns out the white noise

But it doesn’t stop the raging storm

Waves of emotion crash over my rocky heart

Changing its exterior with each swell

A deep, insatiable yearning sets in

Tears blur my vision

The melody continues to taunt me

Rubbing my solitude in my face

Taking pleasure in my heartache

Evil voices laugh in my head

Making me doubt my worthiness

I wonder if you see what I see

Is that why you keep your distance?

I know you’ve noticed me

Yet you keep me at arm’s length

Or do I just blend into the background?

The yearning to be part of your life

Devours my mind

Day and Night

Dawn and Dusk

Through my soft sobs

I wipe my tears

The yearning isn’t gone, but the ditty is finished

I have to carry on, face the day…and not lose hope.