Lime Green Suitcases

I packed a bag yesterday
mainly clothes and other such facades
exteriors that I have now confined to the interior
of my lime green suitcases.
A suitcase who's outward appearance is bright enough to
mask the squashed wrinkled chaos within

I really didnt think I had that much
and I'm not entirely sure i need it all
but nonetheless it is packed, ever so neatly,
in my limegreen suitcase - Filled full to the brim

I'm going to send the bag ahead
and I hope they receive it as a spokesperson
heralding my pending arrival
rather than a warning shot which can only be followed by
chaos and mahem.

I have two more suitcases to pack, they're also Lime green
I dont have the same things to put them
but I will still fill them full
with more imprtant stuff
stuff that I can not send ahead
Stuff that must remain with me
me

I'm a lime green suitcase
filled full to the brim
packed ever so neatly
with clean wrinkled clothes
just waiting to be aired

Stumble and Stand

Before you fall you stumble.
Your body does everything possible
to try and keep you in an upright position
Or at least minimise the impact of your fall.

And this is what my body did/does
for the first couple of weeks of my nutritional plan [read Diet].
It kept stumbling, not knowing that I wanted to fall.
Self preservation I guess, even if it was preservation of my current
unsummer worthy body.
Alarm bells start going off, mini stumbles, that involve a dry mouth, loud uncontrolable stomach growls, well thought out excuses, bad breadth, mood swings, hunger pains in my heart....


This made me wonder, what else my Physical and Metaphysical,
In a self destructive separation,do in the name of such preservations?

Is my inner being working with me or against me in what it thinks is right
for me? What is right for me?

What am I subconsciously not doing?
What options am I not taking?
What life am I not living?

Are the words coming out of my mouth the same as those that I'm thinking?
Are my principles abundantly apparant in my actions?
What/Who is my character?

Or am I stumbling? Trying not to fall even though I really should not be standing like this?

Actions need not be explained. They, should be explanations within themselves.

I must fall into a higher standing

The fat Boy and I

Tum Tum

Susan Boyle

If ever I saw an angel, she did not look like this.

Maybe this is why I never see angels?
I fail to recognize their unproven beauty
Yet in spite of this they show themselves
shocking my childish disdain into quiet guilt.

If ever I saw an angel, she did not look like this.

I was too busy looking at their teeth and not their smile.
Feeling the sweat (in) and not the warmth (of) the handshake
Laughing at THEM and not at their jokes

If ever I saw an angel, she did not look like this.

Thankfully acceptance is not a prerequisite of/for the pius.
And sometimes, we can be helped by the people we think are weak.
How lucky we are - we frown, jeer, belittle, assume,
yet still, we bask in the warmth of their sunlight.

If ever I saw an angel, she did not look like this
But i am glad, none-the-less, that I have seen her.
I'm sure now, I will see many more.

He Kexin and Jiang Yuyuan

...Are Chinese gymnasts who were rumored to be underage and thus ineligible to compete in the Olympics. They did, and won - Gold.

What is interesting, at least for me anyway, is that being underage is an advantage.
And the two main reasons for this? Fear and flexibility, or, to be more acurate, more of the latter and less of the former.

I went skating this weekend and i so wished I was a Chinese gymnast!
This was my first time on ice, I felt like whiskey, mature, cold.
I could hardly walk in the skates and i wasn't on the ice yet!
I went out and I was plagued, barraged with thoughts that obviously didn't go through the minds of alleged 'underage' gymnasts.

I was scared.
What if I fell, and broke my leg, I didn't have insurance, how would I get to the hospital, could I afford treatment, what if i split my head, and bled to death, how would they fly my body home, who would pay for it, my mum would NOT be happy!!!
*'Psychologically, younger gymnasts may be more fearless, and have less visceral appreciation for the potential for injury. They are therefore more likely to perform more dangerous, and more highly scored, routines with confidence and steadiness.'

My body also felt different compared to,say......an alleged underage Chinese gymnast.
I/it was tense and rigid. My body hardened, expecting a bump, a fall, death!
*'Physically, younger gymnasts, particularly those who have not yet gone through puberty, tend to be lighter, smaller, more pliable and flexible, which aids them in performing more complex skills and gives them a better strength-to-weight ratio.'


People were watching, they were all looking at me, they new I couldnt skate, they were waiting for me to fall, they were wizzing past me, in the hope that they would scare me and I would fall....Well not really, and as soon as i realized that I let go of the side of the rink.
He who dares, wins.

I had loads of fun after that, perhaps as much fun as an alleged underage chinese gymnast winning gold.

Then it happened, I fell, flat on my back.
Nothing broke, bruised or bled.
This single moment of loss of control, was in fact the best part of the night.
It didn't even hurt. Then i remembered a statement I had heard before...

'It may hurt, but it won't hurt anything'

I'm old enough to be Chinese gymnast but would prefer it if I was allegedly underage...Its the only way to win gold.

Run little boy...Run!

When i worked in Zambia, my route to work, went through a high density suburb.
The kind that are built close to the road for all to see.

On one such occasion, I witnessed an event which I now find relevantly telling.

A young boy had just commited what I can only assume was a punishable offense
and there, right outside his home, right next to the road, A woman, who I can only assume was His mother, was issuing said punishment by beating him with a broom she had been using to sweep the yard, hoping, I can only imagine, to brush away all his sins as it had the leaves in the yard.

Everytime she hit him, he would be overwhelmed by the pain and run away BUT not out of reach. His mother, purely out of love ofcourse, would catch up and issue more CORRECTIONAL PERSUASION.

As I drove passed I wondered why this boy just didn't run away, then it dawned on me: That was his mother whom he LOVED so much he COULDN'T even COMPREHEND.
She too, LOVED him to the extent that she believed her actions, though harsh, could be separated from her love or worse still, perhaps, taken as a show of love.
The boy was at home, where he BELONGED and as such could not run anywhere as he would soon have to return.
And this, was all on display, for all to see, interpret and have an opinion about.

Today, I find this story relevant, in love, especially of those that hurt us and continue to do so.
I hope, someday, like the little boy, we will use these 'beatings' to shape our lives and soon, grow enough to love, leave,let live and find a new home.
'Far from the madding crowds ignoble strife'