Maddie Godfrey (Australia/ UK)
Published in The Ofi Press issue 49
Positivity Poem
to the stranger who smiled at me on the street,
I hope you arrive home to the smell of caramelised onions,
there’s a roast dinner with rosemary cooking in the oven
and someone you love hands you a cup of tea,
that’s made perfectly, and is the right temperature already
I hope your shoelaces stay tied,
and there are never holes in your socks
to the driver who stopped for me at a crosswalk,
I hope every speed camera you pass is turned off
I hope that the radio plays your favourite song,
the one you know every single lyric to
and that you sing it so loud
that the car next to you rolls down their windows,
and joins in
to the Italian barista who insisted I didn’t pay for my coffee,
I hope all your regulars come in tomorrow,
and they tip you enough that you can take a journey
to somewhere you’ve only seen on postcards
and when you’re there, I hope there is a parade
and you get swept up in so much colour
that you forget the shade of sadness
to my best friend,
I hope your pizza is perfectly warmed, and
the cheese and meat ratio is on point
I hope your wifi connects automatically,
I hope your phone bill never goes over,
and your suitcase always bursts with souvenirs
to my Mother,
I hope the kettle boils quickly when you wake up in the morning
I hope that we can spend today celebrating, instead of mourning
to my Pop,
I hope I am wrong about reincarnation, just so I can believe you are watching me write this
I hope you are insulting it, telling me that life is not all hopes and dreams
but you taught me how to focus on the bits of rubbish that seem, like something special
in this city of sterile strangers and dirty windows,
it can be difficult to focus on the things that go right
the bus that’s on time, the lack of line to top up your oyster card
the buskers who smile no matter what coins they’ve collected
I’m trying to collect these moments, store them somewhere that the wind can’t reach
in pockets, and pocketbooks, beside the plane ticket heart I carry in my chest
I’m trying to keep these positive moments separate from the rest,
so I can unpack them whenever I’m unsure, if kindness and compassion exist any more
Kissing
the first night we kissed, I thought you were a bad kisser
because your mouth moved in different shapes to mine
but over time, my lips learnt your sentences, your syntax, your smile
until we laughed with the same sounds
then kissing you felt like singing the lyrics to my favourite song
and your mouth was singing along
so now when I meet other people’s lips
I tell them, they are getting the words wrong
because this body has become the track list to your album
is a symphony beneath your fingertips
your open palms like headlights, my thighs a sunless road
and we are singing our song
and I think to myself, that you are a good kisser
but I’m wrong
because you’re not
and neither am I
but we are good at kissing each other
and I hope that my lips will stay in this shape
so I can remember how you looked at 4am
with the windows down, and the radio loud
coffee in the cup holders
and you are holding onto the steering wheel
and holding onto my hand
and we are holding onto how hard it is to forget a language
once your mouth learns the shape of the words
Maddie Godfrey is an Australian-bred poet currently living in London. She is enthusiastic about glitter, the colour purple and veggie burritos. Maddie is the current Western Australian poetry slam champion, and has also won slams in London, Cambridge and Oxford. Over the last year she has performed at the Sydney Opera House, co-written a stage show, and participated in the Women of the World Poetry Slam and festival in Brooklyn, New York. Off stage, Maddie's work has been published on feminist websites, on a University poster, in anthologies and as part of a YouTube series. More of her writing can be found at www.facebook.com/maddiegodfreypoet
Image: "Image 6887" by Walk In Red.