The Bears Can Dance and Sing

Leaning back in my swivel chair, attempting to keep warm on this cold winter's night, I can't help ponder what someone said to me recently.
It's no secret what they did indeed say - I suppose it just caught me off guard is all.

They said that inwardly, no matter how 'all-together' they appear to have it, they're actually deteriorating. It's like they're at a circus - that the acts performed at every show have been rehearsed - laughter and excitement almost expected from the onlooker. 

The more I think about it, the more I'm beginning to believe we're all similar. 

Some of us are the clowns - our identities hidden beneath a mask of white - encouraging ourselves that we ourselves will be happy if everyone around us are.

Some of us are the acrobats - taking a chance and leaping through the air - all in an attempt to prove 'we've got it in us', that we can do it given the chance.

Some of us are the lions - brought into a world and beaten until we follow the rules - subjected to a small cage backstage when all the guests have returned home for the night.

And the rest? The rest of us are the tightrope walkers - walking a fine line between imagination and reality - not knowing whether to let ourselves fall and hurt - feel -  or to continue attempting to perfectly balance all the elements in our lives. 

My conclusion, my gentle audience at home?

We're never leaving this circus.

So how about cheering each other on once in a while...a little encouragement.

Kimberley Doreen x

A Little Poetry to Start the Day.

‘The feeling of existing only within yourself is suffocating.

It is as though you are under water, unable to surface.

To see the light, to see people; yet remain unable to communicate;

To express, to feel; is to die.

Truly die.

It is to slowly wither and decay within yourself; facing the most

Hideous death of all’

October to April - May to September.

The rain will come, the rivers will fill,
we'll get swept away downstream like we planned.
When we were small, it would carry us,
remove the land beneath our feet, yet we still stand.

Stand on our definition of life,
stand on our dreams,
stand on our hopes, thoughts, wants and needs.
But then we fall, fall down hard.

The river dries up, the water is gone,
We'll walk downstream now, need to get there.
Now we are grown, we need to arrive,
the sky above us is dark, our hearts so bare.

Bare are our hearts,
bare is our mind,
bare is the river, the flow of mankind
Then we dance, the rain dance,

And the rain comes, and it pours.
The rivers fill and so do our plans.

The Night Is Alive, So Alive.

The tall buildings around me stand proudly, their lights telling of the long night ahead and what to expect from it. People walk past happily, some stumbling, some holding another hand in their own and others alone, focused on arriving at their next destination safely.
I sit quietly and watch.
The breeze wraps itself around me slowly, intoxicating me with it's breath of life. I let it. I close my eyes and remove myself from the conversation I am involuntarily having. In the distance I hear a sweet voice. I open my eyes and excuse myself, making my way to the curb. Standing ahead of me, a man sings to anyone who will listen. He sings of love, life, the world.
Everyone continues to walk.
The lights behind the man change colour, from green to orange to red. I stand there, watching.
Behind me, I hear an argument starting. I turn and make my way back to my friends slowly. They have all stopped their conversation and are watching the fight start. I'm still watching the man.
The lights continue to change colour.
Everyone stops and begins to watch the fight.
The man continues to sing.
Oh, the irony, is too much to comprehend. I breathe deeply. The voice, listen to the voice. Listen to the life being created, spoken, sung. Listen to the sweet, sweet voice of reason. No one but me does.
People prefer to watch a fight, argument, war rather than a revolution.
God save us. God save us all.

This is my homework. Done.

The day is dark. My mood is dark. My thoughts are dark. The ocean is angry. I am angry. The sand is being thrown around by the wind. I don't really notice. I pick up a shell and throw it. They aren't pretty today, not today. I want them away from me.
It starts raining. I curse. Of course it rains. I get up and jog along the sand. I stumble, but keep going. I walk up the boardwalk and duck into the trees. Great. Perfect.
"Anything else?!"
I look around. The trees shiver. I shiver. I peer down the dark, deserted track, and then start walking down it. I'm sheltered, but not entirely. A rain droplet rolls down my forehead, I let it drip off.
"Wow, great, great. What next? Please. Please, give me something".
I laugh. I can't stop. I just laugh. My clothes are saturated now, but I don't care anymore. I continue walking in the rain. Okay, it's okay.
I get to the main road. People look at me questioningly. I smile at them and keep walking. I get on the next train that comes and sit there humming to myself. Where am I going? I don't know. Somewhere. I squeeze my clothes and water runs off. The train stops and a few people get on. I look up after a few minutes, and I see a young man looking at me smiling.
The day is light. My mood is light. My thoughts are light.
"Hey"
"Hello"

Untitled - A very short, sad story.

We're walking together, hand in hand, in a crowd that engulfs us with its size. You turn to look at me and smile, oh that smile, it's so beautiful to see. You look away laughing to yourself, I pull you closer. We walk like that for a while, you pressing against my side, my hand and yours intertwined. As we continue, I peer down and see a coin, I let go momentarily. When I stand back up you're gone. I can see you no longer. I shout for you, but you're already lost somewhere in the crowd. People glance at me, they don't care. No one does. I drop the coin, and go in search of your hand which I mistakenly let go.

The crowd disperses, and yet still you are no where to be seen. I try to call , but then hang up when I remember you telling me how your phone was dying - how you didn't care. You told me it was okay because I got your full attention. We laughed.
I'm not laughing now.
Where are you? I think. I can't think. I sit. I stand. I feel sick. I try to drink, but my throat closes up. I can't, I can't.

I remember now. I remember where you are. I walk quickly, my palms sweaty. I clench and unclench my fist - your palm belongs there. The path is small as it avoids the stones that are scattered here. I've found you at last. I knew you would be here. Ever since I lost you the very first time, I always return here to look for you, and you prove me right every time. I kneel down and run my hands along where you lie. I've missed you. I will aways miss you.

What Do I Say?

It's so hard to sit back and watch someone torture themselves for other people.
Crafting their outer-being to suit other people's ideal person. The perfect person.
Been there, done that that.

But how can I tell you this without making myself look so naive? So silly?
Of course I wanted to be perfect once-upon-a-time, then I realized that no one really is perfect.
I use to be the kid in the corner, with their head bent to their hands, wondering how to proceed in life. Calculating every flaw that my next decision would involve, and considering what other people would think.
Why did I care so much? I had what many of the others didn't - indivduality.
You have it too.

Maybe I should tell you my history, it might snap you out of this hypnotic transe you're in
You're perfect to me. Sometimes I look at you and tell myself that you must be one of the happiest people around, you have everything good in your life. Everything motivating you to live a great life.
So why do you question yourself and put yourself through this torture?



Please stop. I can't watch anymore. I'll help you if you want, but please. No more.
Kimberley Doreen x