East.

 

Cumbre

A home from home and poignant place

where the ocean view lets us retrace.

 

 

Set Sail.

Escape from reality, coast and stretch the spanning seas which plummet reality. 

 

Fairy lights soften the curling waves which rear like wild horses, breaking free of the loosening harness. 

 

Each day they awake to a new skyline, jutting shapes flattened to dusty sands which glow hot with the ascending sun. 

 

New picture to frame, backdrop and essence to inhale. 

 

Dodgems

Dizzying fizz in a whirl of energy

plastic coins in the slot as the melody stops

and the siren releases the next go.

Whirls and swirls, the passing expressions

stretch and smudge.

Their wild eyes and peaking grins glow

amidst the dashing frenzy.

Heads jolt and suspend in mid air

hair thrusts forward in the pit of gliding cars.

The thrill of the chase, cat and mouse

dance to the early morning.

And in the past and the present we look to the future

masked blue lights stagger the haze.

How many days? Struggling with acceptance.

Failure to accept reality, transported to a far off land

where our perfect lives were left unhurt.

We search the skies for signs that you're near

next to us, in front of us, behind us.

Waiting to catch us when we might fall.

From our make believe land where everything is fine,

just as we'd known, not a piece out of place.

Except the fit which made us whole.

Downpour.

The damp it floods outside the lines

which hem in the hurt and barricade the downpour.

Water level rises up, cuts the croak

saturates the sandbags and relieves the spill.

Varnished vision hazes over,

Washed.

Like soft pads of a trickling fingertip

they erode into the thirsting skin.

Crawling down from cheek to neck.

The salt it stays and dries upon the face

which wears an expression of loss

for what cannot be replaced. 

We packed the car as if staying for summer
to escape to your treasured haven.
Of solace, of rest, tucked away in a cocoon.

The rain it bounced as we hurried inside. 
You sat on your favourite chair and looked so happy
as natures canvas as your backdrop.
We tea drank from a pot and I cooked at 5.

The day turned to night and the light blotted out
we sat and talked and watched the bucket list.
Watching with conscious and understanding eyes,
dampened by the uplifting sentiments but undeniable heartache.

You drank brandy with warm water
and told me to have what I wanted. 
I bid you goodnight and saw you the next morning
sat up watching the television.

Eggs, bacon and sausage.  A walk all together along the peaked sands,
each breath so fresh.
We looked over our shoulders to see your heads over the greenery,
walking, linking, close as always. 

We waited for a table near to the window to watch the sunset.
Something told us that it had to be special. 
I didn't know what to choose
but you told me to be adventurous and try something new.

Then again the next day we strolled along the bay
and watched the fishing boats come and go.
We stood on the balcony and looked over at the castle.
We stepped back into the bridal fair and you thought
about renewing your vows.
The tables were laid beautifully with every detail perfectly in place.
Neither of us said it but inside I couldn't bear
to think that on my 'big day' you wouldn't be there.

Before we left you insisted on us having a photo using the new camera,
the sun came out and you put on your hat.
I hugged and kissed you and said goodbye,
you both stood there with your arms around each other waving.

Your motioning hand moving further and further away,
until you were out of sight. 

Ireland

A few months ago I was able to go on a very special holiday with my wonderful family to visit our relatives in Brey, close to Dublin.  The laughs, happiness and fun we shared will stay with us always :) x

The top of Brey head with Rach

Irish coffee with Mum and Dad :) x

Perspective

The narrowed lens widens

the framed picture released

the clouds poke through.

The sun shelters the focused image

unlocking the clipped wings of birds

who fly without caution.

Who decorate the drawing

and colour in the missing spots. 

Spring

Lucky

She sits on her suitcase for one last time in a little while.  Tugging at the zip its clear that not everything will fit.  She lingers on the balcony one last time, as the sun shines with mirror image to the day she arrived.

She savours the sunshine warming her cheek, remembering how it felt.  Taking one last look and closing the door, she relives the moment of entering before.  In wonderment of this luxurious place, which was hers to call home for a short term space. Connie and Irv help her pack everything into the car and they drive away from the waters side.  She gazes into the foreign area with one storey houses with barbed wire at their sides and rusting cars jauntily parked on the grass verge. 

The sunshine cuts out and the clouds grey in an instant as the rains begins to shower and then pour.  Rain like she had never seen before in Sunny Isles, where she would swim through the showers as she swam on her back.

Aeroplanes sketched out in the sky's shadows
its time for her to go back home. 

Roll Call

C. Madeleine's,

Red White and Blue,

Flamingo Plaza,

spend a dollar or two.

Meander the markets, taste an empanada.  Go the closest you've come to Latin America.  Drink a mojito the size of a vase, observe the glazed bodies with the backdrop of deco art. 

Party hard, rest your head at the Santa Barb.  Wake up feeling recharged to soak up the rays and take a bathe in the oceans bath. 

Feel fabulous in your own music video cast.

Day Job

A means to earn, a means to survive

A means to exist with self sufficiency

To achieve, to cement a routine.

To pave the flags for the future.

A desire to do more, to utilise skills

to output creativity, to strive for completeness.

          To yearn to grasp a your chosen path.

But to aim is to strive for something more

the key to life's journey,

amidst the day job distraction.

110%

Golden Ticket

During my time in Miami I was able to meet some truly inspirational people who took a chance to succeed in achieving their own 'American Dream'.  People who followed their instincts, trusted their hearts and placed their lives in the hands of fate. 


Pavel and Svetlana moved to Miami almost a year ago after marrying in St Petersberg, they entered the green card lottery and won.  They told me that they came to America to achieve their dream.  To have a better quality of life, security and for their future.


Ronald came from Haiti to fulfil his ambitions of running his own Haitian restaurant and provide for his family.  Serving 20 tables on his own every night to begin and then renting a taxi to work every day 4 pm until 4 am.  He told me that even if he misses out on money he will always keep his word and that it is all about respect. 


Eduardo came from Peru 30 years ago on behalf of his family.  It was either he or his brother who would make the move to provide for loved ones back in Lima.  He arrived in the U.S with two suitcases and 1000 dollars in his pocket.  He had no papers or a place to stay.  He told me that it was his ability to paint which secured his new life in Miami.  He would paint everyday to earn enough money to survive and to send money back to his family.  The first parcel which he sent home was a box with his treasured paint brush inside, his family gathered round excitedly and eagerly unwrapped it.  They all began to cry as they knew that it was this very brush which enabled their dream to come true.


Dreams do come true, with enough desire and drive to see them through :)

Smudged

He could have had her whole

he could have had her unflawed

wrapped up in his picture was all she wore.

Untouched by things which could contaminate

the clean and leaning heart.

It was apparent from the start that she might fall hard

and etch her wishes in something different when they tore apart.

Dipped

Sand dipped and plunged in assonance

resting on every breath and every sound.

Euphoria ringing in the curled shells

which laze at the waters shore.

Neednt voice a single word

for every feeling to be heard.

Strings of her heart

Pull the bow,

release the arrow

pierce the part

which unlocks her heart.

Footprints

The tired tide layers, the ripple rises, the current covers.

A blanket above and beneath, the incurable feat.

The birds they stagnate the pierced sky, dance in dalliance, soar in synchrony.

Cluster and curtsy in obedience to the ocean. 

American Pies

When K Mac came to town... Hilarious fun filled times ensued :)

Family Portrait!

La Catalina Hotel, Miami

Free Wets with our St Helens amigos... 7 p.m haha

At the Casa before Fontainbleau

Que guapa!

Haha, post 'Star Island' tour, Bayside

Right before the captains thriller routine kicked off

Soaking up the rays on the balcony

La Catalina

K Mc poolside, Sunny Isles

''Friendship is a magical and delicate word...

Its meaning is unique, respecto, verdad,



Carino... is a perfect key''.  

(Eduardo, Miami 2012)

C.W.C



The best reunion!



Bliss curdled,
            creased and folded.

Lighthouse

Actions speak louder than words.  And if he would have been there then he would have heard.  How she fell into trouble and the ship was sinking in.  Dived overboard in panic and thwarted by the chill.

If he would have been there then he would have seen.  The SOS flair piercing the blushing sky.  And seen her reaching hand disappear into thin air. 

Pulled to safety as she splutters and gasps for air.  Revived and warm in safety she wonders why he wasn't there.  Ponders and questions whether he really cared?

Wired

She looks at him with longing lust,  widening her eyes in a pledge for reassurance. 

Puffs nervously on her cigarette and tugs his hand for security. 

Pressing her fingers into his face and tilting it towards hers. 

Insecurity etched in every sidewards move he makes, to interact with the girl to the side of his place.

His mood is jocular and crazed, still burning from the night already passed.

His eyes slowly turn to cinders and her heavy head is caught in his clutches.

A passing man drags his cumbersome frame alongside the table. 

Clutching a white rag his white bulbs veined with crimson.

They fail to acknowledge each other yet passes a fag from his crumpled pocket. 

White threads weave through his locked curls as he mutters his whispers aloud.

Through tinted glasses