My Shades

Nothing to say

Life is not quite right

Not at all what should be

At 49 or even 46

No pension plan

No health spa

No big jewels or diamonds

in my safe or at my fingertips

No ambition of sorts,

no management degree

no retirement funds

I just go along as I see fit

Without a master plan

Or big shopping bills

Am I happy after all?

I don’t know. It depends on who asks me

Do I have what I always wanted?

I guess I do

I’m still alive and with a heartbeat

I have a roof and a place to be

I have healthy kids and caring friendships

I have a lover that wants me

Even if we just barely meet

So life is grand

Just a tad poor and downbeat,

somewhat unsafe and unpredictable

like a piano offkey

or a tsunami waiting to hit…

It’s hard to keep it going

when you should be wiser

and no longer a kid






Stepping back from my precipice

I just had the 2 worst weeks of my life

waiting to know if I will live

waiting to see if my breast was ill

2 weeks full of sleepless nights, dread and defeat

2 weeks where nothing else mattered

2 weeks of holding onto 4 biopsy pins

refusing to believe

refusing to acknowledge I could be sick

but knowing deep down this could be it


The end of my good luck

the end of my good life

when the tide was finally turning and I could see

a new beginning for me…


2 weeks of waiting for an outcome

while I colored my hair bright pink

because that’s exactly what I did

thinking the hair would not stick

after the diagnosis and the desease

after the chemotherapy and the big C

thinking I would put in a good fight

and state a good plea

like all the brave women that came before me

and the women that would face the same feat…


And somehow I have been spared

my life remains as it has been

my breast is healthy and not sick

but the memory of these 2 weeks sticks

like a heavy toffee pudding that I couldn’t eat.


This is why I came here

to tell that sometimes life gives you a fright

to make you appreciate life and those you meet

the friends that cried with you,

that held your hand and breathed

hiding away their fears and disbelief

comforted you and held you

and kept you going…

when you could barely feel

This is for them….


Don’t ever admit defeat

face the fear and color your hair bright pink

and believe that hope is more than what you can see…





I made Hope the word for this year

without giving it much praise, thought or losing sleep

I had used the word so many times before

it had lost its purpose, meaning or feel.

Let’s hope the weather holds, the car starts

and we make it on time to the spree.

Let’s hope we win, the meal is free

and the new boss is nice instead of mean.

Hope is so commonly used by so many these days,

that we don’t even stop to think what we mean.

 Hope is invoked in meaningless discussions,

daily trivialities, the quotidian burdens of our lives,

the sort of thing we say to be upbeat,

to break the ice or start a chat,

without being shy, inept or labelled social misfits.


But what does Hope really mean,

How can one make it justice, revere it,

or use it consciously and in full will?


I’ve learnt that Hope is the word of the destitute

Those that cling to it like a lifeboat

To keep them from drowning, afloat and still

I’ve seen the refugees crossing, their life and death struggle

Their will to live a better life away from their families and kids

Hope is what drives them and keeps them alive or barely fit.


Hope is what separates what is possible from what it really just is.

We are all doomed to face our own reality as we stare into our self made abyss,

But Hope is what keeps us grounded and stops us

from letting lose and jumping right in…


Not a small feat, and not a small deed,

Hope increases in power the closer one is to admitting defeat…

Maybe that’s how it works or what it needs,

a blind faith test of sorts.

A time to reflect, connect with one’s true north,

Resetting the compass in the fog on a route you can’t see,

taking step after step without knowing if you’ll fall off the precipice

just because you trust you’ll be safe, and need to believe. at the moment for me.


I watched a video by Lana Del Rey

and for the first time in a very long time

I wished I was kissed by the guy instead of the girl

What does it mean?

Is it  just another phase?

Could I be bisexual more than gay?

I met someone in a course the other day

He is nothing like the men I had met

He is alternative, full of tattoos, bold,

artistic and talented,

funny and full of grace

He is kind, makes me laugh,

he is good fun and a bit overweight

And I found myself panicking

when he said he would not be back again.

I wrote him a letter, more like an email

telling him I would miss him,

could he please not stay.

He didn’t reconsider

but I still text him

without knowing really why

I just miss him

isn’t that strange?

Haven’t been with a man in years

Do I like him as a man or as a friend?

This is really quite embarrassing

what would my kids say?

Mother you are really an embarrassment

at your very old age,

will you just make a stance once and for all

instead of just sitting nicely on the fence?





Power Games

I didn’t know I had it within me

Manipulators of the world

Go and fuck yourselves

mean people

You and your mighty repulsive skills

Your calculated stunts

and your deceiving manipulating

conniving shit.


Why did I have to endure you,

to know you, to support you,

to thoroughly despise you?

Why did I have to work with you?


It almost destroyed me but I’m still here

Confronting you, daring you, bearing you,

destroying your personal brand bullshit!


Feeling sorry for your poor submissive wife

and your poor beloved innocent kids.

You are a sad excuse for a human being,

psychologically damaged and mentally unfit,

a psychopath in polished shoes and expensive ties,

the greatest of impostors in manipulation lies.

An unbearably young and ambitious pretentious dude.


A self-made man of scum,

senior executive of  marketing crap

half wit major imbecile.

now I see you


this is how I feel.
Maybe I should feel differently…
Happy, fulfilled, maybe more upbeat.
Instead I feel stupid, defeated and an imbecile.

I can’t explain it, justify it or illustrate it
I’m still unhappy with my life, my achievements
my new apartment, my gym routine…


I have changed so much lately that I no longer feel
I have put on weight, let my hair go gray,
I have stopped feeling worthy, caring,
loving or deserving of praise.
I have stopped meeting people, going places,
socializing, laughing, going for drinks.

Maybe I’m spinning downwards into the abyss
and it no longer scares me,
it oddly feels like the right place to be.

Sometimes I wake up disappointed,
nothing has changed and my kids are still not with me…

I don’t know when or if I will stop feeling like this.
Life as it is has lost its vibrancy
and it just feels lonely and strangely uphill.

This is in spite of knowing how lucky I am to be me…
To get my own place, to earn a good wage,
to have a good boss, healthy kids,
to get on with my ex partner,
to have a lover that still wants me,
in spite of feeling mentally unfit…


To always end up standing and in a good light,
in spite of all the turns,
the twists, the commotion and the whirlwinds…

What I learnt…

You must be whole before completing someone else

You must be healed before healing someone else

You must be brave to face all consequences

You must be accepting of what you can’t change

You must communicate what is not going well

You must keep going…God dammit, just keep going…

To my Lover

Does it show

when you have a new lover?

One that you really truly want…

One that you have wanted for years

without agendas or much hope.

One that suddenly caves in and concedes

that she is not as straight as she may have thought…

One determined to check the intensity

of what goes on between you,

without stopping it or putting it off.

Does one’s own body reflect what goes on underneath?

Does sensuality have its own smell,

an air of abandonment,

or irrepressible uninhibited content?


Can it be obvious to everyone?

This unexpected satisfied bliss…

Of that who has come to terms with who she is

and what she is…

And is finally free to let her body feel,

free to let her lover’s hands wander or lick her skin…


I’m discovering sensuality at almost 46…

Reliving the flashbacks of desire, yearning and greed

the hotness and dampness of what she makes me feel…

Like a teenager I’m learning what sex means


It’s not rushing or a timepiece of delayed accuracy

It’s not counting bases to see how well we did

It’s not fore-playing as a means to a deed

It’s not a map of what to kiss or where to lick.

We are finding our own way without compass or the need

to measure pleasure by the amount of naked kissed skin.


It’s how the mere touch of her hand clogs my mind

and makes me weak…

It’s how her smell lingers on me for hours

and I refuse to get cleaned,

or refrain from using the shower,

just to have her on my skin…


It’s how she only has to brush her lips against my lips

to make me feel lightheaded, giddy, powerless and in heat


I never knew how good she could feel…

How deep her grey eyes seem

when she is holding me really close,

touching me and watching me peak…



We kissed for hours with the hunger

of that who waited years to be fed.

To find someone who will not measure desire

by the amount of kisses or set dates,

and that will not fit me in between meetings,

as if I was a suitable possible candidate,

to a sudden vacancy in the pastime department

left by the last crossword player expert.


I didn’t quite have to articulate my own date spec,

for she gladly seemed to be on the very same page.

We met on Sunday for hours and then again the next day.

We met at her carpark after hours,

encouraged by the darkness of the place.

We remained parked for ages going nowhere,

in a lift that never started but ended quite well…

lesbian car

After a while of talking I got close to her and kissed her

softly but firmly on the neck…

In reaction she shivered and pulled to the side her long dark soft hair

She licked my lips gently and pushed her tongue in asking if that was OK…

while I could barely nod yes or come up for air…

My breathing got heavy, shallow, noisy,

turned on and craving

her skin, her hands, her tongue, her lips, her sex,

her gaze of desire and despair

everything that she is but couldn’t give me

because we were still parked

in a public space and shopping bay…


I can’t wait to meet her again

her cold hands, her warm mouth,

her playful tongue and gentle stare…

I can’t wait to be close to her and her breath

her perfume, her scent, her sweat,

her skin, her touch, her hair.


I can’t believe I have been given the chance

of enjoying someone I want and have fancied for years,

someone that is becoming much more than a crush or a dare


More than a fantasy to imagine and observe from afar

instead of what I have

a real woman of flesh and warmth in my arms

whose kisses make me tremble and drive me mad

Get me out of control, hot and wet, full of desire,

sensual, voluptuous, animal and carnal.

Back to full health

In the mist of early menopause

with the hot flashes and the sweats

the confusion, the fogginess and a mind half dead.

I left the iron on all night and day

and a tap that never stopped running

until he came back and gave out hell.

No, I’m not in love. I wish I were.


I’m actually back to full health.

In spite of the early menopause

I’m somewhat happier in my loneliness,

somewhat settled and more content.

I haven’t felt like this in ages

and no, it hasn’t been like this since my last blog tirade…


This is a new frame of mind and strange state

One that finally acknowledges the enormity of the change

One that is trying to make peace with the world

and above all peace with myself.


It hasn’t been easy…

It has been bloody tough and a road full of sorrow and of pain

I have cried for weeks endlessly every day

I have screwed up at work constantly for being distracted,

in some sort of mourning, and in a mess.

I can’t believe I’m still there and they asked me to stay.

I would have fired myself promptly without fighting or delay.


It is finally sinking what I gave up to find my true self….

my home, my kids, my modern comforts

a man that truly loved and cared.

Threw it all out the window in a mad rush to get out there,

be free and boldly proudly experiment!

But as suspected the only experimenting I’m doing

is helping the kids with their laboratory science tests…


Some days I wonder if I am senile, bored, or simply plain insane

Couldn’t I have got a new convertible for this midlife crisis

instead of changing my whole life in a haste?…

Did I really need to go overboard and leave everything

that took us over a decade to get?…


But then I look at the alternative and know why the changes couldn’t wait.

If I hadn’t left I would still be feeling angry, raving,

unsatisfied and cursing,

eternally blaming others for my mistakes.

Discontent with life and its comforts as I had them,

trapped in a marriage that I no longer could sustain…


So I’m still trying to make sense of everything that happened.

Trying to figure out how it will evolve and end,

this new independent lonely life that has become

a sort of lighthouse and a refuge for me and the family to rest

from the tempests and tsunamis that I once would create.


I don’t claim to have all the answers,

I live on a day by day case.

Some days are easier than others,

but lately I am more in the sun than in the shade…