When the waves try to escape from the ocean, the ocean always pulls them back. No matter how far out to the shore they go, they always return home. When love has connected two souls together, they have a bond that’s unbreakable that no matter how far they go, they will always find each other.
“The man with a suitcase” whom I have fallen so deeply in love with. Yesterday he knocked on my door but was welcomed by the echoes that bounced back from my empty nest. He had his suitcase with him and once again he had returned to me, but I was not there. I was lost, lost without him. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I was choking in my own words that stabbed me like daggers piercing through my fragility. I was wandering into oblivion, like a mad man chasing a void, but I was rescued by the wings of love; an emotion that had tortured me continuously yet rescuing me from my self-destructive self. Love lifted me and took me to my doorsteps. I looked on the floor and saw the tracks of his suitcase; I took a breath and smelt his essence. I melted to a pulp, had I lost him again? I followed the tracks of his suitcase and it lead me to the grounds where I had buried my beating heart in a jar, waiting for the right one to make it his treasure.
My heart in a jar was gone. My treasure all dug up. Had he reclaimed it once more? Had he been lost without it? How did he know where to find it?
So I followed the tracks of his suitcase as they lead me away from the grounds where I had buried my beating heart in a jar. The trail lead me straight back to him. I was shaking, eyes teary, head splitting. I rested my head on his chest, he drew me close and I heard the beating of my heart inside of his. In that moment, I felt whole again. He comforted me, stroked me, wiped away my tears, and whispered sweet words to me. We stood under the moonlight like two lovers who had nowhere to go but to each other. Stars twinkled in the deep blue skies like angels up high singing a praise. I am home again; my home is in his heart, in the heart of ‘the man with a suitcase”. My heart will go on and on.
I fell in love with ‘the man with a suitcase’. Placed my heart in a jar and gave it to him so that he could take it with him where ever he went. Off and on , he came and left like a ‘no where man’. I wondered where he laid his head at night, whose warm body gave him comfort in my absence, on whose couch did he toss and turn?. My heart in a jar, I walked around feeling lost like a mindless zombie. Lost without one who was lost. He was lost to me though I felt lost without him. I tried to function without a heart, my heart in a jar, in his suitcase he took where ever he went. I dreamt of a home, a dog in the yard, the voices of children playing, the cry of a new born baby. My head in the clouds, I was just a dreamer.
But one day….. I awoke. The intensity of the sun tearing through my window blinds almost blinding me as I opened my eyes. I found my heart in a jar by my bedside. It was beating ferociously begging me to take it back. I stared at my jar, I held it in my hands, drew it close to my chest, that I should feel my own heart beat again, even though it wasn’t inside of me. I turned around and the door was open, I saw the tracks of his suitcase on the floor, the air was slightly stained with the smell of his cologne, the front door unlocked, his footprints in the sand, trail fading off with the distance. He had become a memory. I held my beating heart in my hands, I looked up to the morning sun and the chilly wind filtered through my clothes. A new day had come.
I grabbed a shovel and dug a hole in the ground. I buried my beating heart in the sand, that one day it shall be found by the one who will make it his treasure. My heart in the sand.
A little place called home
The door is closed
We shut the world away
He holds me tight
Keeps me warm
Pampers me with butterfly kisses
It’s a small place filled with love
No space for hate or that which is bad
He is the fuel that ignites my fire
Nature nurtures our bond
Our vacuums are filled
Body and soul as one
A place of contentment
Our little love nest
That he may feel an unquenchable hunger when we are apart, one that can only be satisfied when we reunite. That our union would be like two legs walking in sync , left for right and right for left. That his heart will beat inside of mine and mine inside of his like a baby in its mothers womb, impossible to live without. That the oceans that separate us will always bring us back together. That we shall once more walk by the beach, leaving out footprints in the sand and watching the sun set while we hold hands, look into each other’s eyes, lost in awe ………. Lost without you
So swiftly so suddenly, I feel a surge of sadness
But yet it seemed, a moment ago, that all I had was happiness
My mind has began to wonder again
That which I ended I want to begin
And that which I began, I want to end
For it seems as though, I am coming to my end
I am weary of wallowing in my own confusion
I am sorry for those who once had my submission
For it seems I am as a pendulum rocks
Back and forth and breaking the rocks
That which once held me steadfast in love
I mend and I break and I mend and I break
Shattering the hearts of those I once loved
Loving again until I break
And breaking again yet wanting for their love
And when I have it, I break again
I break again only to begin again
Hearts are shattered and I am battered
Then again comes the surge
The fruit of all that I urge
The surge that makes me begin to purge
Wallowing in my self inflicted unhappiness
In a surge of sadness
I find myself constantly fascinated by the class, style and elegance of classical vehicles. As a child growing up in Africa, these were things I only saw on TV. Now living in San Francisco, I have been privileged to see and capture their beauty. My Dad was a lover of cars, we had 7 cars in our parking lot and my dad would constantly rave about the uniqueness and craftsmanship of cars that he was interested in. These were not the cars of our time but he knew of their aesthetic appeal so anytime he had the chance he would talk about them. My dad passed away last year, his heart gave up on him while he slept. Since then, the things he loved always remind me of him: his music, his dancing and his love for cars. He stirred up my interest in classical cars; they are truly iconic of American Transportation.