Perfect silence
Perfect light
Turquoise weightlessness
Cerulean warmth
My smooth translucent cradle
Holding me
Rocking me so gently
As the lights sparkle
And my hair sways
Golden like the sand below
Waves lick at my face
As the water presses like lipstick kisses
A perfect silence against my ears
15/04/2014
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
They used to tell me
One day you will find your prince.
My prince is a queen.
15/04/2014
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
When I close my eyes
I can’t make it all stay still.
Bare stone walls don’t move.
12/04/2014
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
The stars are falling
And I’m far away from you.
Can you see the sky?
11/04/2014
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
It’s why people go to space.
It’s why people break records.
It’s the thrill scientists seek out.
To see something that nobody has ever seen before.
I understand their wish,
Their desire
For the unknown.
For the unseen.
For the unique.
I’m not a scientist.
I will never go to space.
I will never dive into an ocean trench.
I will never go the furthest.
But I found what they are searching for
Looking up at you
Surprised
When you first told me you loved me
Shock written on your face
At the words that had come out of your mouth
Unforeseen
Unexpected
Unbidden.
I have felt that moment of discovery
That moment of unlocking a treasure
Never before seen by the eyes of man.
I found it in you.
And I was the first
And I am the only one
Who will see
Your face
Your heart
In that moment.
10/04/14
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
Tell me about yourself.
Tell me your best childhood memory.
Tell me your worst.
Tell me when you first fell in love.
Where you had your first kiss.
Where you had your first good kiss.
Tell me if you can still taste that kiss on your lips when you lie awake at night.
Tell me when you first knew what heartbreak feels like.
Tell me when was the last time you felt it.
And if you believe that now you’ve felt it once you can still feel it
Just a tiny little bit
All the time.
Tell me about your favourite tree to climb.
And how old you were when you realised climbing trees wasn’t cool.
And how old you were when you realised that you were wrong
And that climbing trees was the coolest thing that has ever happened
And that damned if you’d ever grow up.
I still climb trees.
I still feel heartbreak.
And I can still taste her kiss on my lips
Just like the first time.
09/04/14
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
I want to reach out
Through the pixels of my screen
Just to hold your hand.
03/04/2014
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
Show me the pen
And I will colour your world
With words
And populate
The place you go
When you close your eyes.
I want to creep inside your mind
And take root in your dreams.
You call it
Culture.
I call it
My custom-made key
To all your little locks.
02/04/2014
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
Her face arcs up
Meeting his mouth
Taking him unawares
Pushing him on the back foot
Hands sliding over his linen shirt
Fingers pressing into skin through thin fabric barriers
He responds
Unthinkingly
Mouth on autopilot
Lips. Tongue. Teeth.
She skips a beat
Here comes the drop
Surefooted now
He grabs her
Turns her around
They hit the wall
Flaking paint chips break her fall
He’s rough
She’s rougher
Biting back against his lovesick
Lips. Tongue. Teeth.
And she’s lust-sick
Soft hands tightening to fists on his lapels
Crumpled cotton
Dragging him down
And he holds himself up with fingers in her hair
A hand around her waist
Cupping her back
Pulling her arching into his
Lips. Tongue. Teeth.
Desperation grows
Tension mounts
Cracks show
He’s breathless now
And she’s moaning now
And how
Are they even still standing now
Pressed so tight
Arms locked
Hips flush
Feet dancing the unsteady fight
Of lovers versus gravity
They sway a torn-up
Three-way
Tango with the wall
Hard against her back
And he’s sharp against her mouth with
Lips. Tongue. Teeth.
She slows
Pulls him back below
The heights his mind had reached
He moves back
Lets her go
She leans against the wall
Dark hair
Dark eyes
Dark mouth
Marked by his burning
Lips. Tongue. Teeth.
01/04/14
© 2014 Bonnie Calderwood Aspinwall
Listen to this one.
Everyone.
Stop all your critical thinking:
“Who do you think you are?
Playing at poet,
Taking your pain and imagining it’s art?”
Well this isn’t about pain.
This isn’t about me.
This one’s for you.
There is a state of mind I have noticed,
A chronic fear of failure
That has everyone trapped.
A fear that any chances of success are so remote
It’s almost as though they don’t exist at all.
Doubt.
Imagine yours.
Convincing you not to try…
Something.
Maybe it’s something small
Like Marmite.
It could be delicious.
But it’s worryingly…
Brown.
Or it could be something huge.
Something specific to you.
Something that could make or break you.
Something you long for with every fibre of your being.
Something you’ve wanted since you were a child.
Something your teachers dismissed,
Your parents rolled their eyes at,
Your friends joked about
Till you were so full of defeat you began to laugh with them.
“I want to be a writer.”
“Wrong.”
“I want to be an astronaut.”
“Of course, dear.”
“I want to be an actor.”
“HA.”
Of course it’s laughable,
Because you will never succeed
If you don’t try.
You can’t be brave if you are not afraid.
So write what you think is right.
Play the game to shoot the moon
Act now and seize the day.
Imagine a trapeze artist.
Standing on the ledge, the bar in his hands.
He looks across the empty space,
No safety net below him,
To the other side.
The far trapeze looks minuscule.
How could he ever hope to catch
So tenuous a link?
See now.
He jumps,
Swings.
But why let go,
When he can hold on to his
Dearly beloved lifeline?
To please the crowd?
It’s possible.
Because he seeks the thrill of falling for that split second?
Perhaps.
Or maybe he takes that leap
To silence his doubt
And embrace something he has wanted
All his life.
Would you let go?
07/01/12
© 2014 Bonnie C. Aspinwall
Barefoot Astronaut 