Tag Archives: Baby

A Child’s Laughter

It’s the fact that you are entertained

For virtually no proper reason at all

Only finding your fickle amusement

When I’m laughing so out of the blue

Because you’ll never have to find any

No, you’re merely content with seeing

Happiness in others, and your innocent

Soul finds that as all the more reason to

Smile in this solemn, humourless world.

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january evenings

keep me warm

for my rattly bones

and my shivering flesh

and the very edges

of my frosted fingertips

are rather arctic cold…

so share your tepid breaths

circulating faintly like

your lukewarm blood

and wrap your tiny fingers

in mine, as i ensconce

you around a quiet

embrace, keeping the

both of us warm and cosy

comfortably nestled together

under blankets and pillows

as we rest in the midst of the

brewing tantrum storm outside,

frigid breeze only daring us

to thaw tighter in each other’s

soft, assuring, ember grasp.

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lollies and laughter

sticky lollipops

turning his mouth purple

grinning as eight teeth

crunch against sugar enamel

.

sticky lollipops

turning her mouth pink

lips as treacly as candy

as toothless gums go clink

.

sticky lollipops

one for him, one for her

sharing flavours playfully

with babbles and a purr

.

sticky lollipops

all over the mat and toys

plastic wands waved about

dancing to nursery noise

.

sticky lollipops

of grapes and strawberries

but there ain’t a sweeter thing

than these two honeys with me.

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fleeting

you’re growing up

so fast and i can

see the neon lights

slowly flickering in

your hopeful eyes

here’s to cavalier youth

that’s yours to keep

i only pray that i don’t

ever see such a glow die.

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Plastic Puppy

i toss a toy

quite randomly

to mollify you

amusement spreads

like wildfire

on your chubby face

“dog”, you utter

quite unsurely,

face crinkled in confusion

i smile and say “yes,

dog goes ruff!”

emitting a growl

and the best bark i can do

at the last part

you laugh;

cheery sound breaking

my internal bedlam

repeat “dog!”

and hold the toy

closer to my face

where i could kiss it

in the same way you did

and so i do;

and then i clamp it

in between my mouth

and attack you with tickles

barking and laughing

as you squeal in delight

and the plastic toy

falls away

as we both fall over

in silliness and happiness

on that pastel pink

adorable owl-spangled bed

giggling widely…

this is a nonsensical tale

no one wants to bite

but we are truly barking mad,

aren’t we, child?

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sticky kisses

crawling over for a kiss

sticky in spittle and bliss

a peck of an open mouth

and tiny teeth i can count

crawling over for a kiss

surprise me as you please

i didn’t ask, but you gave

unconditional love you saved.

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silly songs

nursery rhymes

on constant repeat

i’ve memorised the lines

between my teeth

and a pacified child

engrossed by cartoons

the ditties stuck in my head

won’t go away soon.

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Childish Traces

his laughter

and wavering

soft heartbeat,

and lingering

fragrances of

her lilac scent

caught between

my calloused,

trembly hands;

the sensations

and stories on

my fingertips

reminding me

of innocence

once lost, and

a purity to still

be preserved.

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Baby Blue, Pastel Pink

Scattered toys

Wailing noise

Chubby boys

.

Laughter soft

Amber quaint

Cute girls loft

.

Curious doves

Playful bairns

Childish love.

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Wild One

It’s been a year, kid.

I don’t have to constantly check up on you anymore, and be paranoid whether you are still breathing as you slumber, unknowing, naive, innocence in its most delicate form. I can only count your heartbeats, slow and steadily warm, whispering reassurances to me, making me believe still in a transient hope on a world so lost and pitifully dark. All the nights I’ve had to give up, interrupted sleep I’ve had to bide my tired mind by, the erstwhile activities and further indulgences I’ve had to forego to help in taking care of you, the stress, the weeping, the spewed bodily fluids, the horrid diapers, the sacrifices ventured and risks undertaken, everything and nothing all at once…I suppose it was all worth it in the end.

You’re still here, after all, breathing, laughing, crying. Living. One year in. It’s crazy to think just how much has changed, how everything has been elicited by insignificance, how everything slows down yet speeds up at the same time, nerves racing clockwork ticks, how much has changed, how far you have grown. It only feels like a trembling fingertip away when you were a newborn infant delivered from the hospital, and, lying there, ensconced in white silken sheets and resting with umber eyes wide shut, I saw a part of the universe that was apt with the stars in the sky. I basked in the warmth of someone who doesn’t have to be arrogant and jaded like the rest of the heartless horizons, a soul, that was a diamond moon, uncarved, pristine, an enigma. An incandescent light that catches the sparkle in every worthwhile heart. I left the room dazed that day, with ink all over my hands, holding a crumpled piece of paper, unsure of my own senses, pensive and ocean-deep.

Admittedly, I’m not the best babysitter. Sometimes I’m clumsy and end up panicking amid bloodstains and scarlet bumps. Sometimes I get vexed and irritated by your inability to act and your constant incessant shrieking, for heaven knows what reason. Sometimes I snap at you for your tantrums and for the things I know are not under your control. Most of the time I don’t know what the hell I’m even doing when I hold you. I know I’m a child-hating misanthrope that doesn’t take any shit from any other snot-nosed bratty brat that dare crosses my path, and I should be a choking hazard, kept fifty miles away from any person under 5 years old. But you are the exception.

Your shrieking laughter trumps all the crying and wailing I’ve endured from you. Your adorable cooing and chubby tottering alike, the fact that I was there for your initial steps, your first word (“Wa-ta.”), the numerous milestones that can’t be replaced by a million million-dollar paintings. The jubilance and uplift your cloudy childish curiosity banishes my demons temporarily and ties my emotions to a raspberry red balloon, sends me shimmering against your diamond moon, providing me an ephemeral glow, enough to get me though the day. You make me this incredibly maudlin and histrionic, hell, not everyone has the ability to do such a thing. And yes, I may have lost my room when you arrived, true enough, but I found a home in you.

To my sister’s chubby little child, stay wild and have fun, not only in your jungle themed party (which somehow has a clown?), but in this jungle of a life as well. True enough that your untainted whims may not last forever, but the memories remain like butterflies in my tongue, fluttering, tinting my lips with chromatic stained glass artworks, tasting of fairy dust and sweet sugary candy and an indistinguishable distinct bitter undertone, a hueful transfer with every cuddle and pinch and peck. You’ve got no reason to be sad, you need no reason to be happy, which is why you’re smiling all the time. You’ve got many people who love you unconditionally, so beat your chest and swing on the vines, you’ve got a lot to roar about. Don’t grow up too soon now. You deserve that much, at least.

Happy birthday, Gianni-ya.

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