M.K. Lee's Blog: Telling Tales, page 53
October 20, 2020
Show
They’d been waiting too many months for the return of their favourite TV show. Too many teasers, too many times the schedule had been pushed back. the day leading up to the first new episode airing left everyone nervous. Those who could view it live at a reasonable hour prepared themselves with wine and snacks, and those that couldn’t found streaming sites with grainy pictures to squint at in the middle of the night. And when it started, an international fandom held its collective breath. Was it...
October 19, 2020
When
When the floorboards creak he freezes, tells his heart to cease its racing, reminds himself it’s an old house with an old soul. Cracks and creaks are nothing but to be expected.
When the sigh breezes over his neck he cuts off the gasp that fires unchecked from his lips. Blames it on an open window, a cracked pane, a door ajar downstairs.
When the brush of an invisible hand skirts along his arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, he ceases fooling himself. Stumbles forward toward the doorwa...
October 18, 2020
The Cave
The depths of the cave called as welcome reprieve from the unrelenting midday sun. Flask empty and mouth dry, Kieren ambled over the rocky grass verge, fingers digging into brittle patches for support as he made his way down. His ankle twinged from an earlier stumble, and his neck was surely beacon-like for the steady, painful pulsing of his skin.
The cave air was blissful; damp, and cool. A trickle from its depths promised a taste of water that for so long parched was too hard to ...
October 17, 2020
Two Bodies
Somewhere beyond the sea… somewhere waiting for me… my lover stands on golden sands… and watches the ships that go sailin’…
The lull and cresting crackle of the needle in its vinyl groove is soothing. A continuous background purr as the record spins, the speakers pulse, the empty air of the room is filled with music. Two bodies slot together perfectly, hip to hip, chest to chest, turning a small circle in time with the melody embracing them, lifted by lyrics as they lean on one another.
...
October 16, 2020
Cat
You’d ask me for help
But the words are your furballs
And are stuck in your throat.
And the fears are the burs sticking to your coat.
You’d ask me for help.
But your claws are torn ragged
And your tongue tastes of wounds,
Chewing wasps that will sting, yet leave no marks when groomed.
Sometimes cats don’t know when they need petting.
© M K Lee
Best Served Cold
Did you think I wouldn’t notice?
You untalented hack with a constant complex;
You aren’t the only one who can play dumb.
I’ve never been any good at chess
Though the ease of strategically moving pieces into place
Is like breathing to me,
And gardening is second nature,
So go ahead;
Try to reap from the seeds I let you sow.
You’ll soon know.
All that armoury you’ve been building around you for weeks,
I made all its weak points,
Know where to kick to bend you at the knee
And all the ways to make you lose your ...
October 15, 2020
Parade
You will not rain on my parade.
You will not hover over my experience with your misery
Like a dark cloud ready to break and wash my joy away.
You will not drain the colour from my happy place
Leaving it monotone
In the wake of your bitterness.
I owe you no explanation
Or justification
Or even an education on how you are meant to feel.
You will not change my outlook by chipping away
My bright thoughts with your dull ones.
I have my own set of tools
That are far sharper and more cutting than yo...
Foresight
This is the Esplanāde, Kronvalda, and Bastejkalna,
With hours of endless strolling with the Daugava nearby.
This is Millenáris, Városmajor, and Margit Sziget,
Come sun or snow shower a greenery retreat between words.
It is Pole Mokotowskie, Skaryszewski, and Ujazdowski
Where I can taste pirogi and rosoł and history with every step.
And it is Jardens del Turia when it is too hot to be anywhere,
Sheltering with sweet treats beneath a canopy from the sun.
All of these parks, and all of these memories;
Did I...
October 14, 2020
Making Pasta
You need to eat, right?
To be nourished and comfortable,
To forget the worries of the world and recharge.
You see my offerings,
Sit at my table
Watching me mix and knead,
Pour love into these ingredients
To ease the gnaw of your hunger,
Churn them through a pasta machine to drop into a pan.
You offer no seasoning,
Only critique,
Tell me all the things you think that are missing
Even as you fill your face.
And if the pasta sticks,
I can see your disapp...
