We sunk into barrels that smelled
almost too strongly of wine
that was almost too old. The grapes
they were made of sat squished
between our toes.
We weren’t wrong anymore.
Nobody was wrong anymore
and it was being right
in the thick of it that made us so strong.
Our car used to be blue, we think.
It’s turned into a sickly orange
but at least it matches the sky.
We look for pictures in the cloudy
bumps of the metal.
There’s never anything left in the stores
except Scrub Daddy brand sponges
and glimpses of Mr. Clean’s face.
Nobody needs to bleach their bathtub anymore.
They’re all yellow. We try to guess
what kind of fruit lies beneath that
shivering hunk of mold.
I’d always wondered if something that was burnt
could burn more. “I think that
it depends on how burnt it got the first time,”
you say as you peel off the charred top layer,
“and on how you try to shake it off.”
We’re both nodding as the minnows
nip our toes, and prove to us that maybe
we aren’t the only ones with too many mouths.

It wasn't the best birthday,
Not that 39 is exciting anyway,
But I wasn't quite prepared
For what my brain threw my way today

What is even the point?
In turning 39?
Next year Clare and I are going to Ethiopia
- to sneakily go back in time ;)

38 was old enough
But still not quite that bad
39 is a lot more daunting
For there are no more "30's" to be had

But a few days ago I met a friend
Who just turned 70 last week
What was even more shocking
- she is still much fitter than me!

Her grandson is now 17
I once taught him to bake cakes
Back when I shared her house
Duncan was at primary school for goodness sake!

I don't know if Clare feels the same
About this weird age to become
Or whether as some say its just a number
My 70yr old friends are forever young

I have so much admiration for Clare
With her determination to succeed,
She does make me feel younger
Although turning 39 is still **** - it must be agreed :/

But I was determined to make the best
Of the last year beginning with "3"
Although I dramatically failed
Got dressed, panicked, then ate grapes until tea...

I did let down Teresa
I admire her so much too
We were supposed to eat cake
And how I miss our conversations about poo..

But here I still am
Dressed for both Africa and the North Pole
Required a walking pole to get to the pub
With snow turned to ice - it wouldn't be pretty to fall...

But I finished my day with a whisky
A wee dram to still being 30 something
A single malt Aberlour came to my rescue
To compliment the huge amount of Diazepam

I shall try again tomorrow
Looking forward to seeing Carryn again
So I officially cancelled my birthday
And tomorrow I will try again

But my goodness how Im so grateful
To some very special friends
Here in Aberdeen,
Mary and Glyn are those friends

My brain tortures me frequently
And today we had so many plans
They all went down the toilet
Quite literally (!) but gladly from the right end..

So generous are my adopted family
I can never be grateful enough
For putting up with my panic
Understanding my brain says its "had enough"

It might have been a ****** birthday
But I don't know where i'd have been
If it were not for Glyn and Mary
And their endless compassion and understanding.

To all my friends - sorry for being "weird", and I really do appreciate all your kindness with all my heart.. ❤️

At night, the city bursts like a still life of a firework,
on the ground with the fun people walking all over her.

Grapes
crushed.
Forming new
shapes.

4.8
escape.
AM
again.

Square
life.
Breathing
air.

How to E S C A P E and be F A I R ?

On

my

deathbed,

I hope that I am visited by
what I think are angels

or demons
(it doesn’t really matter which)

and,

as I wheeze out my last breath,
they reveal to me

that I was actually an alien
from another world

trapped
in the misshapen body of a human

for the entirety
of my existence—

all 28,000-or-so

days of it.

Because
then,

my role in
this whole charade

would finally make sense:

all of the mind-numbing

awkwardness

and suffering

and bullying

and incomprehensibility

of the world

laid out before me—

a picnic for a malnourished soul
to finally feast upon,

a glistening Colorado River to drink from

and,

at long last,
to rest beside.

I'm not old.
I'm immature.
Senseless and careless.
Full of faults that I constantly trip over.
And devoid of cracks that aren't hairline fractures.
I'm young.
Afraid to live.
And afraid to die without growing out of the youth I now own.
I am young and old.
Fragile with uncertainty.
Yet strong with determination.
Or not really.
Maybe foolish with hope and too doe eyed to see it.
Maybe too young to understand that life isn't a game actually meant to be won
but one which is endured.
Like tomatoes ripened in the sun.
Maybe I'm not old enough to be bottled and sold.
Maybe I'm fresh fruit.
Picked from a vine and placed in a barrel.
Aged slowly and sweetly.
Future red wine.
But for now.
Young grapes.
In a process.
Unripened.

My beloved is like an ivy vine full with grapes
Her taste flavor and fragrance is my real asset
Her wonderful curves bloom in beautiful shapes
What innocent crimes can be committed forget

Like morning breeze when you touch my face
Caressing of your hands make me to kiss you
I love you with all your charms ,style and grace
My love passion grows and tells me to pursue

Your enchanting beauty when takes me in arms
I pray for my fortune to celebrate my real love
We have left our stations and now follow norms
My sweetheart my beloved my innocent dove

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow