trading places

a little thing really
not enough to call it an incident
at work last week

got up to call
the next patient in
constantly aware of the tick
of the clock of competence and
efficiency, omniscient
and unforgiving

he came in with the easy stride
of those who age gracefully
and sat down in my chair
not knowing, of course
that there were rules
unwritten but observed, nonetheless

I did not feel
particularly inclined
to trade places
he looked so comfortable
easing back in his (my?) chair
gently leaning on my jacket

I carried on as if
this is how things have always been
but could not help wondering
why my (his?) chair
did not feel as comfortable

We talk about modern medicine
with its non-paternalistic care
but still provide the patient
with a less comfortable chair!

My magic shoulder

Three heads
of varying sizes
and some with attitude
find a roost on my shoulder

and yet
they all seem to fit
perfectly

Wow!
I must have
a magic shoulder...

planning ahead

We were out driving one evening
dark, cold, typical 'summer' in Liverpool
I accelerate as the light turns green
and signal right

Suddenly, she screams
pointing frantically ahead of us
and reaches across to me
with both arms

In the split second that follows
I hover on the threshold of panic
And then ask her crossly
'Are you mad?!'

She calms down
and apologises
She thought we were in the wrong lane
heading towards oncoming traffic
and she panicked

I huff and puff
grumble about female drivers
about backseat drivers
about the female brain
and as I fume
She says
in a quiet voice

'I have always had this plan in my head...
if we were travelling together
and if we were about to hit something
I would reach across to you
and hold your head in both my hands
and never let go'

I sat there saying nothing
for I had not ever made
any such plans

Later that night
I think I cried in my sleep

This blew me away!

Set sail and smile, wave good bye

God·speed
n.
Success or good fortune.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[From Middle English God spede (you), may God prosper (you) : God, god; see god + spede, third person sing. present subjunctive of speden, to prosper (from Old English spedan, from sped, success; see speed).]

slideshow

tattooed ...
on the back of my eyelids

slide 1
her eyes send a smile
weaving past strands of
hair - highlights an' all, tossed
back without a care
- finds me, greets me
like a little
school boy, her
little school boy

slide 2
slim ankles play hide and seek
with the duvet as a
slender
finger traces patterns
on my nose which
wrinkles and shies away
like forget me nots

slide 3

sleepy morning - I clutch in vain

at wisps of gossamer dreams -

suddenly calm spreads

a kiss alights

gently on my forehead

or perhaps

another intangible strand of

unravelled dreamscape

slide 4
a song, a song, my
heart swells up in
angst of days gone by and
youth blown away
but then her face
breaks surface and smiles
at me from the inside

... immaculate

indelible ...

... incandescent

Radhika M Krishnan

Sound track: No man will ever love you ...
Artist: Raghu Dixit
Album: Antaragni

x and y

he is little
he is funny
he giggles uncontrollably
he walks around purposefully
stirring laundry
with a wooden spoon
- the most natural thing
people do (of course!)

she is tiny
doesn't say much
she looks at him
wondering
when she will
start to run around
like he does, trying constantly
to catch up
with one's centre of gravity
- a little blob of brown
in Brownian motion

I stand at the
sidelines watching these two, who
will one day soon label me
uncool
with my old fashioned overcoat and
corny music
for

I am just a Dad
now
and forever

expected to provide but not
to participate

while they who are young
will inherit the earth, yet
seize the day

Hello midlife crisis
pleased to meet you
you're early, aren't you?

roadkill

a red teddy bear
lying in the road
on my way to work today.
I swerved the car
to avoid running it over
but perhaps it was
already dead ...

personal post-it

whenever you feel like a clone-in-training, think of the Beeman spectrograph

no time

she smiled
I did not
ask why
no time

she waved
I did not
ask why
no time

she sighed
I did not
ask why
no time

she cried
I did not
ask why
no time

she left
I did
ask why

she said:
no time

I see ...

Him in my arms looking
up at the world
a scruffy little monkey
all hairy and sticky,
icky slippery little eel
that he was then.

Him on my shoulder
grudgingly giving up air
greedily gulped down in his
glorious quest for
size and speed,
to go forth into
the great big world,
unaware that it
is in fact struggling
to keep up
with this little man who
grabs time by its neck
and tosses it away
disdainfully as if
it matters not to ...

... Him who wears a bemused
little grin stolen from an Imp
I'm sure, now wandering
the neverlands wailing,
in existential angst,
for without a grin what
is the point of being
an Imp?

Him lying beside me
having made this faultline
in our bed where she now lies
an unreachable distance away
as He sleeps, parting
effortlessly these
once familiar seas
(Of Life, Of Desire, Of Tenderness)
that delivered him like
a little lost bottle with
its forgotten message of Love