In the morning light
his face looked less like the man
she had expected
They lay side by side,
both scrolling through the choices
that they should have made
Their chemistry, like
a free trial period,
had to be canceled.
She called an Uber
efficient, polite, before
the thought came to him
They'd shared a playlist
that was all breakup songs - which
should have been a clue
.
.
A song for this:
Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer
’Tis been twenty-seven minutes since I’ve listened to my playlists of artists who died at twenty-seven. When the barista checked whether to bring my iced oat latte to table twenty-seven, I thought for twenty-seven seconds that they were going to charge me twenty-seven pounds.
It’s Monday - again - every time I look around,
it seems like it’s Monday again.
Weekdays I run on snark and caffeine.
If I seem preoccupied..
I’m not ignoring you, I’m buffering
My playlists soothe and understand me
I’m not ignoring you, I’m reorganizing a playlist.
My mood is linked to Wi-Fi strength.
I’m not ignoring you, I’m doom scrolling.
On weekends, we put the ‘pro’ in procrastination
we take the celibacy out of celebration
and work on our romantic cardio
Sometimes you gotta pop-out and show your alignment
I’m not ignoring you, I just don’t want to pull a bird-finger muscle
.
.
A song for this:
The Politics of Dancing (12" Extended Mix) by Re-Flex
Without Him by Triste Janero
I had few dates (5) before leaving for college.
- thanks again covid -
so my experience was practically irrelevant.
When it came to love I knew nothing.
I was an unseasoned chicken.
In an argument, I had no social currency,
no litany of my love’s starry predecessors to hype.
In a crunch, I can’t always articulate feelings I’m struggling with -
we’re not all song writers or poets.
What I have is my own brand of cringe rawness -
but breakthrough moments require honesty - don’t they?
Ok, here it is:
You’re not a single song.
You’re a playlist, a no-skip album
that needs playing at max volume.
Your passions, talents and emotions
make the unmistakable soundtrack of you.
And I love it.
.
.
Songs for this:
Baby Steps by Olivia Dean
sunshine! by Hangsung
Genius (feat. Gush) by C2C
We'd played each other on the
song guessing app for
six years, ever since we were matched up
when I visited Iceland in 2016; we
both liked Classic Rock and stuck to
70s playlists
For a few weeks one year (2022) I was
"out of sorts" and didn't log in; when
I next opened the app
I saw Haraldur had terminated our six-year
rivalry
I mean, I led him by 540 to 86 games,
he was a bit slow,
but I valued our unspoken international alliance
It stung for a while but my
main concern was that my wife,
whenever I played the game,
always asked me how 'your friend Olaf' was doing
And now I just can't admit that he's
no longer my friend
I am 55 years old
There was a time
your name felt like a beginning—
a gentle unfolding of everything soft
in a world that had grown too loud.
You weren’t just someone I loved.
You were a season.
A chapter where the pages turned slower
just to make it last.
We were never chaos,
never fire.
We were rain on windows,
late-night playlists,
hands brushing in silence.
Almosts wrapped in always.
Goodbyes hidden inside good mornings.
And maybe that’s what makes this hurt—
not that you left,
but that you were never really meant to stay.
Still, I loved you in all the quiet ways.
In words I never said,
in texts I typed and erased,
in poems I buried beneath smiles.
You taught me that some people
aren’t destinations—
they’re stars we pass under,
just once,
but carry forever in our sky.
So no,
we didn’t last.
But God—
did we live.
i keep
a teacup with a cracked rim—
it doesn’t hold warmth for long
but i drink from it anyway.
the hallway light flickers
like it’s unsure
if it wants to stay on.
some nights,
i understand.
there’s a coat in the closet
that no one wears,
but i leave it hanging.
the walls don’t echo
when i speak softly.
so i don’t.
not anymore.
i fold myself into
the quiet corners of things—
pillows, playlists,
people who ask how i’m doing
but not why.
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Tonight I'm in my room getting high, on Nostalgia
Watching reels made to look like it's 1985, people in the comments say the sun just doesn't shine the same , I just tell 'em nah thats because this is AI
but I still watch anyway, homesick for moments that no longer exist I turn to my phone and pull up all my old favorite playlists
I listen to my youth, one hit at a time
This is serotonin
Forgotten lyrics bring back happy memories of the past
I held on to so many sights, smells, and feelings ..
A life I thought was long forgotten
Feeling whole at last
I have been unlocked and the chorus breaks me
My dream, my love
My dream, my love
My best friend, my love
My dream my love
The light that shines in his bright ocean eyes
The happiness that radiates through his smile
My dream, my love
The warmth of his arms around me
The soft touch of his hand in mine
The gentleness in his kiss
My dream, my love
I love our playlists
I love our friendship
I love our time together
I love him
You should see us move to the beat
with Ciara in the driving seat.
She’s on the stage ready to rock
as on us older ladies she takes stock.
To join our club you have to be
over fifty years old you see.
Our local council’s ideology
To have us interacting socially.
The music is the magic key.
It’s from that time we were
Young and care free.
Be it country and western
or rock and roll we shake a leg
and have a ball.
Ciara’s enthusiasm has us enthralled.
Her playlists and encouraging calls.
She wants us too to sing out loud.
As we kick and step and twirl around.
If there are fitness facility awards
Ciara and Fitness LK deserves applause.
From morning light until 6pm at night,
I'm behind the scenes curating delight.
With tones that echo on your radio,
blending local stories into audio.
In the heart of waves, where frequencies ascend,
from AM to FM, radio signals extend.
In the realms of airwaves, where voices roam,
broadcasting melodies that are heard at home.
With many dials, meters and buttons galore,
producing shows, which listeners adore.
Weaving scripts to ensure presenters flow,
creating playlists of songs people know.
Colleagues call me the conductor of sound,
composing themes to entertain all year round.
Preventing silence from all transmissions,
making life easy for my technicians.
Inviting guests from a wide range of places,
from different backgrounds and new faces.
On standby to report on breaking news,
using social media to increase the views.
Monitoring projects are in my domain,
there's also an apprentice I have to train.
It's not just about navigating the studio,
I compose the moments that make hearts glow.
Lisa and I wrap and rap for Christmas.
Can you imagine the two of us doing that?
We’ve got Christmas playlists going
Christmas scented candles glowing,
and milky hot-chocolate flowing.
“Stir the marshmallows with the candy canes,”
Lisa says, like that’s something she has to explain.
We’re humming, singing and laughing,
and dancing because we’re happy.
We’re dashing to finish our wrapping,
we can’t have our suitemates catching
us executing the plans we’re hatching
to surprise them with gifts, enchanting.
The paper’s exotic, delicate and glittery
bought at Boyars Gifts, in New York City.
Why do the scissors keep getting lost?
Getting low on scotch-tape - we’ve used a lot.
We’ll be putting them, sneakily, under the tree
where they’ll add glamor and tease to our festivities.
I love the lights of the season - I love giving gifts.
For me, playing Santa is as good as it gets.
.
.
Windows open on the bay
Fluffy yellow king duvet
Satin sheets and pillowcase
Frilly tablecloth of lace
On it coffee mugs for two
Latte, French press, freshly brewed
Boho style living room
Orchids all year round abloom
Bluebird pictures on the wall
Knitting needles big and small
Yarns of many colors fine
Waiting to become entwined
Snow globes sitting in a case
Fresh cut lilacs in a vase
Guitars waiting to be played
Chelsea boots made of real suede
Closets full of women's clothes
Perfumed with vanilla rose
Playlists looping favorite songs
Music streaming all day long
Stacks of unread books galore
Daily shopping, produce store
Walk in shower, double sink
Filtered water, pure to drink
Cheeses, great varieties
Pantry full of treasured teas
Wind chimes, hammock, chairs to sit
Front deck, back deck, fire pit
Someone there to cook and clean
While we take in the sunset scene
A quiet cove, a sandy beach
Shore birds soaring out of reach
Time stands still, or so it seems
When we're in this house of dreams
We laughed uncontrollably together.
We comforted each other in need.
We always made fun of each other.
We always had each other's backs.
We fought for delicious food.
We gossiped about people together.
We dreamed together, accompanied by dreamy clouds.
We walked holding each other's hands even when we were surrounded by negativity.
We just knew we were soulmates in the form of best friends.
We made playlists together.
We fought, but made up eventually.
We made memories that I'll continue to cherish until the day I die.
We complained about each other's stupidity.
But we had tears in our eyes at the thought of us separating.
I can say with certainty that you are the best thing that ever happened to me.
I'd like to thank you, my friend, for making me feel loved and accepting me the way I am.
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