Dwarf Life

Terry. Male. Short. Knowing. Aging. Sibling of Sharon and Annette. Son of William and Jessie. Lover of Chocolate. Ice-Cream. And Beer. Who feels freedom confinement and fear. Who needs friends sport and excitement. Who gives time energy and life. Who fears pressure stupidity and the mundane. Who would like enlightenment spirituality warmth and mind-song. Resident of Christchurch Ian Place. Craddock like all names does not confine me. Rhythm Resonating Life. A Heart Beat Multiplied. Chocolate or Wine is a wonderful substitute. When swallowing. Unrequited love. This is because for some. Not such as I. Food can be. A substance. To stuff up. Gap left. By lost love. Fill up upon. Descend upon. Momentarily. Constantly. Constantly. If not of an age. And persuasion. To suffer an intensified addiction. Filling up the appalling gulf. Left gaping. Without needed lost love. “Exercise gurus would rather we abandon grief through enthusiastic aerobics.” A new cult fashion flavoured musical routine. “Religious gurus would rather we drown our sorrow in Buddhism or Catholicism or... ” True Christianity? Islam or a new age lifestyle? A special friend in a short black mini skirt and lips that quiver like her eyes, with loving me, her lover. A body alive with rhythm, and the need to be loved, and give completely, in synchronicity, of coupled harmony, is infinitely better. “Than a freshly smacked arse.” “Broken capillaries on a drunk’s face.” “The juice of a crushed tamarillo fragrant and tart”. {Or} “A skull busting migraine searing your retina to your optic nerve.” Rhythm Of Life. A Heartbeat Multiplied. Many Varied Variated Pulse Of Life. Rhythm Resonating Life. A Heartbeat Multiplied. Copyright © Terence George Craddock