Never forget your youth, dear reader.
By which I mean the truth.
Not of simple nostalgic flights of fancy
Your days were not that angelic
Not, simply of this fact, good friend
You'll realise if you think back
That you were made to conform each day
You were dressed in uniform
You were made to parade in dress
That was only ever a façade
There was no reason, though I say
To suggest so was treason
No financial incentive, as in employment
Just a crush on fashion inventive
There are no individuals, in a crowd of the same
Just uniformed residuals.
One day, I happened to go back to my school.
Back to the place that started it all.
To the place I was never cool.
But back as a much wiser fool.
I came in colour. And felt alight.
When wondering through those halls.
No longer fitting in. I drew stares and gossip.
Setting me apart with knowledge
knowledge the pupils had yet to grasp
I smiled.
30 September 2015
23 September 2015
On the streets of our leader
We, as a country, elect a leader
(Near enough we do anyway)
This leader is sent to live in London
And in London they'll tend to stay
A five minute walk from work
What a beautiful place to reside
And if you go to Downing Street
You can see through the leader's eyes
See, what's telling is not the gates
The security looking the part
What's telling is the surroundings
The feel, the look, the Art
Some of our leaders have gone to war
More sent others in their stead
Some of those others came victorious, some came defeated
Most they came back dead.
As if in protestation, the country, well
The country responded in force
Not to say they were wrong or at fault
Although some of them were, of course.
Merely to make many a monument
A testament to those dead throngs
Then make many more (for we've many a war)
Built strong of stone and bronze.
Each war is different, each monument too
But somehow all the same
Trying to tell our leader, shouting it silently
That war is not a game.
(Near enough we do anyway)
This leader is sent to live in London
And in London they'll tend to stay
A five minute walk from work
What a beautiful place to reside
And if you go to Downing Street
You can see through the leader's eyes
See, what's telling is not the gates
The security looking the part
What's telling is the surroundings
The feel, the look, the Art
Some of our leaders have gone to war
More sent others in their stead
Some of those others came victorious, some came defeated
Most they came back dead.
As if in protestation, the country, well
The country responded in force
Not to say they were wrong or at fault
Although some of them were, of course.
Merely to make many a monument
A testament to those dead throngs
Then make many more (for we've many a war)
Built strong of stone and bronze.
Each war is different, each monument too
But somehow all the same
Trying to tell our leader, shouting it silently
That war is not a game.
22 September 2015
The ties that bind
I look out for myself, in my own way,
I try to take care of the day to day
I watch for trouble, look for danger
Every other human is essentially a stranger
So I keep myself aware and healthy
For this is a tie that binds me
But I can't just watch out for myself blindly
Throughout my life I've loved my family
They've supported me since I was a child
Now I give shelter away from the wild
I love my family, and do what I must,
For these are the ties that bind us.
I care for friends, trying not to cause fuss
I give 'em support and advice if I must
My confidants, those to whom I turn
With differing thresholds I try to learn
I joke and tease, to try to be kind
For these are more ties that bind
I love the country with which I'm aligned
I care for its heart, body and mind
Though honestly we may not always agree
I do care and work and hope for my country
I should vote, protest and aid sans hesitation
For these are ties that bind our nation
I care for those across all boarders
The sharers, cares, hopers and hoarders
We are you united by no more than our biology
The empathy inherent inside humanity
Opportunities are sparse, but I do what I can
For the ties that bind me to my fellow man
We all care, in one way or another
For family, community, country or lover
Recognise those with whom we share lives
Those on whom we depend to survive
The question is where we draw our line
Between our ties that bind
I try to take care of the day to day
I watch for trouble, look for danger
Every other human is essentially a stranger
So I keep myself aware and healthy
For this is a tie that binds me
But I can't just watch out for myself blindly
Throughout my life I've loved my family
They've supported me since I was a child
Now I give shelter away from the wild
I love my family, and do what I must,
For these are the ties that bind us.
I care for friends, trying not to cause fuss
I give 'em support and advice if I must
My confidants, those to whom I turn
With differing thresholds I try to learn
I joke and tease, to try to be kind
For these are more ties that bind
I love the country with which I'm aligned
I care for its heart, body and mind
Though honestly we may not always agree
I do care and work and hope for my country
I should vote, protest and aid sans hesitation
For these are ties that bind our nation
I care for those across all boarders
The sharers, cares, hopers and hoarders
We are you united by no more than our biology
The empathy inherent inside humanity
Opportunities are sparse, but I do what I can
For the ties that bind me to my fellow man
We all care, in one way or another
For family, community, country or lover
Recognise those with whom we share lives
Those on whom we depend to survive
The question is where we draw our line
Between our ties that bind
9 September 2015
Dear Human
Dear human,
Rest assured this letter is not of the form I would love to write
I would love to claim moral height of what is wrong and right
I dearly desire to dismantle and dissent of all that you do
But I can't. The truth is, I don't even know you.
Dear human,
You untouchable being separated by electronic waves and wires
One of humanities many enragers, saviours, liars or criers
The fact is, I don't know you. Not in any meaningful way
Though we may have met, or may indeed meet someday.
Dear human,
The reason I'm labouring (maybe straining) this particular issue
Is that I've literally no idea what hardships you've been through
You may be fathering a child, have never smiled, or be just fine
I'm sad to say I don't know your struggles, as you don't know mine.
Dear human,
When my dear friend posted about her experience with sexual assault
I hope you realise, regardless of appearance, that this wasn't her fault
That she may have already gone through enough stress, anguish and fear,
Without you saying "your arse was grabbed once. Not exactly the sinking of the titanic here".
Dear human,
I've no idea why you or I may choose to say the things we say
I like to think us all honest and blessed, in our own little way
Maybe you really do judge everything life brings by the same metric
Judging life as if you're thinking you are sinking on the titanic.
Dear human,
I would dearly love for this letter to allow me to shame and rage
But I clearly don't know you, and we're not on the same page
I don't know your life and struggles, and I'm not going to pretend
I just wish you had realised to do the same to my good friend.
This poem is written very specifically in response to this article - https://elejoy.wordpress.com/2015/08/24/baby-troll-hello-rex/
If anyone reading this has experienced sexual assault, please do report and discuss it with your friends, family and/or a confidential helpline. I'm very lucky to have never had to go through such things, so I'm afraid I can't recommend one first hand. In light of this privileged position, I'm very happy to be correct/informed if I've said anything that I should change.
Rest assured this letter is not of the form I would love to write
I would love to claim moral height of what is wrong and right
I dearly desire to dismantle and dissent of all that you do
But I can't. The truth is, I don't even know you.
Dear human,
You untouchable being separated by electronic waves and wires
One of humanities many enragers, saviours, liars or criers
The fact is, I don't know you. Not in any meaningful way
Though we may have met, or may indeed meet someday.
Dear human,
The reason I'm labouring (maybe straining) this particular issue
Is that I've literally no idea what hardships you've been through
You may be fathering a child, have never smiled, or be just fine
I'm sad to say I don't know your struggles, as you don't know mine.
Dear human,
When my dear friend posted about her experience with sexual assault
I hope you realise, regardless of appearance, that this wasn't her fault
That she may have already gone through enough stress, anguish and fear,
Without you saying "your arse was grabbed once. Not exactly the sinking of the titanic here".
Dear human,
I've no idea why you or I may choose to say the things we say
I like to think us all honest and blessed, in our own little way
Maybe you really do judge everything life brings by the same metric
Judging life as if you're thinking you are sinking on the titanic.
Dear human,
I would dearly love for this letter to allow me to shame and rage
But I clearly don't know you, and we're not on the same page
I don't know your life and struggles, and I'm not going to pretend
I just wish you had realised to do the same to my good friend.
This poem is written very specifically in response to this article - https://elejoy.wordpress.com/2015/08/24/baby-troll-hello-rex/
If anyone reading this has experienced sexual assault, please do report and discuss it with your friends, family and/or a confidential helpline. I'm very lucky to have never had to go through such things, so I'm afraid I can't recommend one first hand. In light of this privileged position, I'm very happy to be correct/informed if I've said anything that I should change.
2 September 2015
Stage 5: Sleep paralysis
It always starts the same way. With you waking up.
Your eyes slowly opening to your familiar ceiling.
It's always late when this happens. It wouldn't be scary otherwise.
You turn, to check exactly what the hour is.
Or, at least, you try to turn. You try again.
No luck. Your muscles are stiff. At least, most of them are.
Your heart - that small muscle - hammers against your ribs.
Your mouth can't move, but the air is still just breathable.
Sleep paralysis. The silent stiffness.
And yet, the dream still has you.
In this still state, you still hallucinate. Light flashes before you.
You hear close by noises that should surely make you flinch.
You feel creeping on your skin, you want to twitch so so badly.
They've let you just far enough into reality to make it real.
But not far enough that you can escape.
The punishment of lucid dreamers. Of the lazy. Of the slovenly.
Of those who do not take care to tread softly on new paths.
Their solution to intruders who break after entering.
Boy, do they make their revenge imaginative.
I will leave you with this.
You are in reality. Pull yourself towards it further.
Waggle your tongue, look around, breath deeply.
They can't hold you entire. But mostly, you must
be more careful to not tread ideally into dream.
Sleep paralysis is real. I've tried to incorporate actual facts about the causes/solution in here. For more info, see http://www.wikihow.com/Cope-with-Sleep-Paralysis
Your eyes slowly opening to your familiar ceiling.
It's always late when this happens. It wouldn't be scary otherwise.
You turn, to check exactly what the hour is.
Or, at least, you try to turn. You try again.
No luck. Your muscles are stiff. At least, most of them are.
Your heart - that small muscle - hammers against your ribs.
Your mouth can't move, but the air is still just breathable.
Sleep paralysis. The silent stiffness.
And yet, the dream still has you.
In this still state, you still hallucinate. Light flashes before you.
You hear close by noises that should surely make you flinch.
You feel creeping on your skin, you want to twitch so so badly.
They've let you just far enough into reality to make it real.
But not far enough that you can escape.
The punishment of lucid dreamers. Of the lazy. Of the slovenly.
Of those who do not take care to tread softly on new paths.
Their solution to intruders who break after entering.
Boy, do they make their revenge imaginative.
I will leave you with this.
You are in reality. Pull yourself towards it further.
Waggle your tongue, look around, breath deeply.
They can't hold you entire. But mostly, you must
be more careful to not tread ideally into dream.
Sleep paralysis is real. I've tried to incorporate actual facts about the causes/solution in here. For more info, see http://www.wikihow.com/Cope-with-Sleep-Paralysis
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)