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7th of August – Night time jam

August 8, 2013

Sapped. Tapped. Nothing to say. Just staring across the meeting room table with the neon lights above me. A small gecko on the table plays. I think of starting a rhyme, but rhymes are one minded and once you start on that path you can’t just stop and break it and stub the reader’s toes. So I continue, mind-stuck like the gecko to the varnished table. I stare like him, too, his beady eyes focusing on nothing and everything. Just space everywhere as he looks for bugs like I look for inspiration in this cavernous room. We’re alone and he is so small there must be room for us both in this island of four walls and doors. What is outside? A green sea of grass and the tall masts of palm trees and other islands in this archipelago of a resort. Rowdy rustles of drunk tour-sailors and the odd circling shark cyclist. I myself am abandoned here. Self-shipwrecked searching for my lost treasure of words dug deep at the end of a long day. Shall I keep searching or just hit the coral of my room and drown down into the depths of TV, gasping for air as I sink below, reality above me slipping gently gradating from bright into blackness? Take a breath and breathe before I submerge. Exit the metaphors and similes and smile. A new day is ending and another is on the way with a morning and sunlight and a fresh mind. And the only thing that’s in my way are dreams.

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