Gift

I am the gift you barely unwrapped,
    You barely glanced at me for a second.
I am potential, fully untapped,
    An answer you never saw beckon.

Someone, somewhere, cares for another me,
    I am used each and every day.
Perhaps even you would use me regularly,
    If I were presented in a different way.

Maybe I am just unloveable,
    A gift for no one that exists.
Or, worse still, forgettable,
    Mid-point on every list.


Just be careful with the gifts you spurn,
    Those of us you toss aside.
Rare is the aid you don't have to earn,
    When chance is on your side.

So heed well these words from one neglected,
    Some gifts are not easy to give.
If you wish not to end regretful and reflective,
     You must allow those gifts you are given to live.

Leaky Shield

Some days are clear. Others are cloudy.
I'll be here in dark skies, if you'll allow me.
If you look up high and see only rain.
Come find me please. Do not refrain.

I may not be the best shelter around.
I waver in wind, there's holes to be found.
But if you need, I'll be your leaky shield.
I will stand quite strong. Almost never yield.

Sometimes, I may bring grey skies of my own.
On some of these times, you may need me to leave you alone.
But if, once or twice, you could leaky shield me too.
Then please ignore my protestations that "I don't need you to".

We all have bad days. They will come. Often with no warning.
Every person on Earth has woken up to a grey morning.
On those days we must both know there is no weakness to say.
"Please, I may need some shelter today."

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?
Now while to some there is no mystery
I thought I knew some things but I don't know much
Looking at that person standing just out of touch
Honestly, I don't see me.
Honestly I don't see me

Sometimes they're smiling and singing their heart away
Don't have a worry or care they could give today
They seem so confident, they seem so right
I bet they weren't anxious and worried the whole night
Their practiced smile I'm sure is never seen on my face
And only exists down in the mirror place
And while all their features may look just like mine
I've never seen my hair fall so naturally in line
Whoever is in there keeps smiling happily,
but honestly I don't see me.
Honestly I don't see me

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?
Now while to some there is no mystery
I thought I knew some things but I don't know much
Looking at that person standing just out of touch
Honestly, I don't see me.
Honestly I don't see me

What is wrong, oh man in the mirror?
What are you worried about, what's there to fear? The
world cannot touch you in there
You could live life without a care
So why can't you tell me, just what's the matter
The reflection in side, it just keeps getting sadder
Brings me down crying, we're both there in tears
My hand pressed to the glass, trying to bring them here
Comforting the sad one before me I see,
but honestly I don't see me.
Honestly I don't see me.

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?
Now while to some there is no mystery
I thought I knew some things but I don't know much
Looking at that person standing just out of touch
Honestly, I don't see me.
Honestly I don't see me

I thought I'd seen anger, I thought I'd seen rage
But this mirror man is trapped in his cage
Yelling and fighting against that they can't escape at all
Striking like lightning they almost seem capable
I stare in amazement, trying to keep them in
Knowing it's difficult knowing what they're missing
But man in the mirror you're safe where you are
This world it is scary, dangers stretch on so far
That it's right sometimes for you to feel angry
but honestly I don't see me.
Honestly I don't see me.

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?
Now while to some there is no mystery
I thought I knew some things but I don't know much
Because looking at that person standing there just out of touch
Honestly, I don't see me.
Honestly I don't see me

Mirror man, mirror man, I can only apologise
I know all those things which go on behind you eyes
I know your emotion, and why you feel it so
But I can't keep it with me, everywhere I need to go
If you can just take some more weight from me
So that I can be lighter to go where I need to be
And you keep it with you, reminding me every stare
Into a mirror, you with all my emotions there
You so undefensive, you so real
Trapped with the emotions I can't let myself feel
You've become your own person, with an openness I can't be
And now when I look at you, I don't see me
Honestly, I don't see me.
Honestly I don't see me

Dear Diamond

Dear Diamond,
Don't let them dull you.
Shine you suffering stone.
Be brilliant. Be beautiful.
May the moaners always moan.

Dear Diamond,
Glisten and glitter in gloom.
Live in love and light.
You yourself can bloom.
So go bloom big and bright.

Dear Diamond,
Worry not for the weary.
Who do not dare to dream.
Show them something shimmering.
Give your all and gleam.

Dear Diamond,
I am glad you sparkle.
Dear Diamond,
Ignore all those who whine.
Dear Diamond,
There are those who wish you were darker,
But, my dear diamond, I am glad you shine.

Life is different

Life is different, but what could that be,
Life ain't an issue to be tackled philosophically
You'll never seize the day sitting around, doin' nothin'
Those seizin' life are all out there becomin'

So follow my lead, I proceed to feed
You the knowledge of what it means to succeed
Trust my path, and I'll lead make sure to get you half way
Though tough, you gotta make your own way the rest o' the day

Don't be the person you met in the mirror yesterday
Life ain't a game with fixed rules that you play
Try something tha' will break a few minds
Sit back rewind, see what you find, new friend o'mine

I heard an old man once said something wise to me
But I forgot it, semi-intentionally
Find yourself a message in the noise of this existence
Some things will only reveal themselves wit' persistence

If you find it, holla my way although I may not listen
Your way is your way by my own admission
Life is full of challenges, I don't need yours too
But an adventure? Hit me up if it feels true

Hey, remember way back at the start when you were sittin'?
Rest a little while, but there's a bug and you've been bitten
The bug of not bein' satisfied with half-lived lives
Of living a life where you don' have to strive to survive

And if you've been too busy, well then frankly
I wont be upset if you never find me to thank me
The reward is justification, And I must've been patient
That I've served just this message of why you need to hasten

Yo, if you just care to get up and find yourself wanting more
There's a life out there to live that's different to what you've known before

To write an epic

I want to write an epic, a story read about for years
Get people cheering characters, get them crying tears
I want people to be waiting for the next thing I write
I want them reading my works straight through the night

I want to write jokes, to make the listeners laugh
Have the perfect minute of material to tear them in half
I want nothing more than to write something to enjoy
And I want it liked by everyone, every girl and boy

I want to write short stories, the type you read online
I want it liked and commented and shared a thousand times
To make people's moment, with nothing but imagination
To give the endless scroll a second of hesitation

I want to write comics, bring brightness to a page
Write in newspapers, expose injustice, bring rage
Be an indie author, be the guy you just have to know
Write on walls so you see my work everywhere you go

I want to write many things, to reach people's hearts
The world of willing writers is made up of a thousand parts
But for now, if I can make it worth one person's while,
To read something I have written? That will always make me smile.

Sugar rush

Sugar rush it's a must

Build it big and then it's bust

Go glucose go let the world know

That you're sweet on repeat so flow

But live a little sugar brittle if you can

Let chocolate inlets into your hand

So can the candy keep it up

I'm a fan man fill my cup

The high is quick

Don't be sick

Sugar boon

Over soon

Don't avoid or get annoyed at a small sugar high

Also let go and be prepared to go goodbye

I can see the reason sugar's pleasing to the taste

But mix your fixes or it'll stick to your waist

Play for the world

As nice as it is to play for the world

Still perform to one person, if you're allowed

I know you've got dreams of making it big young child

One day you'll make every person on this Earth grow wild

But until that day here's a truth better realised

It's a good thing to make a few people satisfied

Each person that I have ever met is fascinating to me

With dreams and histories as curious as can be

So if you can take a small time of that persons path

And make them smile or cry or laugh

If you can do something special for just a few

Well, I'll take that every time. Wouldn't you?

One day you'll play for the world. And it wont be a long while.

But you should still realise how good it is to make one person smile.

The moment you commit

It starts with a moment
The moment you commit
You decide, screw the haters
I'm doing it.

You know the road is hard
You know you've tried to walk it before.
That few have succeeded
And failure has claimed many more

It doesn't matter
You've made up your mind.
So now it doesn't matter what obstacles you find
What things life throws in your way
What the challenges are you face each day

You've done it. You've chosen your path.
Ridicule any attempts to make you stop. Laugh.

The moment has passed. Now do not falter as you move.
You are in charge. Vault into your groove.
Take the lead. You have to figure out how.
It starts with a moment. And your time is now.

Dear Lord, Thank You, Amen

Dear Lord, Thank You, Amen
Dear Lord, Thank You, Amen
Dear Lord, Thank You for all You do and for loving through and through and Lord for being wholely true, Amen
Dear Lord, The beginning and the end, thank you my friend
                  That you mend and defend when I'm at whit's end Amen
Dear Lord, Thank You for lending Your gifts and giving your spirit
                   I'm lifting You up so I will never forget it Amen
Dear Lord, Thank You for knowing me and giving me a chance to be
                  A missionary in deed for the worthy creed of Christianity
                  That when I struggle, Lord, You're there
                  That when I falter Lord, You care
                  That when I ask where to the air in my worst nightmare
                  You repair then prepare me so I sing Your fanfare in this prayer Amen

Dear Lord, You will be. You are. And You were.
                   Bless all your word and all I've heard and all I've observed
                   Because through it all I've inferred
                   That you are wonderful. Amen.

Dear Lord, What I'm trying to say is simply thank You, and then a thousand times Amen.

Thank You.

You didn't have to make the world this way, but You did.
You didn't have to love us in this way, but You do.
You care for us. Through all our mistakes and all our flaws and all our sins. You care for us. And You forgive us.

So Lord. Dear Lord. Let this short prayer I pray now capture everything it needs to. And let me mean each word without hesitation or doubt.

Dear Lord. Thank You. Amen.

Cost of a Birthday

Every year on my birthday I ask what I have done
What have I accomplished, what victories have I won?
I imagine meeting Father Time on this annual date
Handing over one year, as is my fate
And then asking, politely, what did I get in return?
Who did I meet? What did I learn?
Did I cause more smiles than frowns?
Did I visit new cultures or stay in one town?

And each year, when I sit down, and think really hard
And I realise the cost I've paid for each birthday card
I think it's worth it. I accept this trade.
It's a high cost, and maybe I didn't get the best deal for each second paid

But for those I've got to know, and the things I've been allowed to do
I'll pay the toll this year. And I can't wait to see what next year pays for too.

Grandma

In life, we leave a legacy of memories
Etched in connections in living brains
Time spent together is not just being friendly
There is love we share and happiness we gain



This poem is lovingly dedicated to my Grandma
She has been around 92 years on this World where we are
Brings happiness and joy to many a different face
She takes life and it's challenges with a loving embrace

Because in 1926, the same year as Winnie the Pooh
My Grandma was born all fresh and new
Young and full of promise, so fittingly
They named her simply Rosemary

And like rosemary, she works best with others
As a mentor, as a neighbour, as a partner and lover
She never sees a person as better or worse
Just a future friend with which to converse

I feel lucky, even though I arrived so late
I spent 25 years with her on Earth as mentor and mate
That after so much time since that birth year
Both she and I share this world right here

If I start to worry about what the future might bring
I remember, in 1926, we still had an empire and a king
We've been through much turmoil and change, it needs not be named
Just that through it all my dear Grandma remained

Whatever challenges life decides to throw my way
Blood flowing in her veins flows in mine today
So I have the power and the passion to persevere
Thanks to those strengths passed on from my Grandma right here

I just want her to know, how grateful I always will be
For the patience growing up she never failed to show me
For the love, and the light, let me just say
Grandma, thank you for all the memories you sent my way


My Grandma is a special friend, as you can tell in this rhyme
This poem is in present tense for a very good reason
It is adapted from one I shared with her one, two times
Repeated for her enjoyment in a sunnier and happy season

Reciting it to her, is a memory we both share
I can recall it in the present, even though it's in the past too
She is alive in me, even though she may now be elsewhere
So Rosemary, Grandma, God bless, and thank you.

Art is an industry

Art is an industry
Art is an industry
Repeat Repeat Repeat after me
Art is an industry

Time is money lets get earning
Art is money lets get churning
Creative works for greed and profit
Innovate make money off it

Take from what you've learned so far
Reach inside you (not too far)
Be inspired make something fine
Get it done by a deadline

All we see movies plays
Is done by 9-5 each day
Don't be late work overtime
Wasting talent is a crime

You could be making capital
For the suits that run it all
Joie de vivre and ennui
Packaged for the industy

Don't be disheartened girls and boys
Still enjoy your shows and toys
Down the line, someone still created
They took a chance and innovate
Poured out their heart to something new
It came through a conveyor belt to you
There is still humanity, somewhere inside
An industry where sparks can still reside
Bottled up, not kept bright too long
Because by now you know this song

Art is an industry
Art is an industry
Repeat Repeat Repeat after me
Art is an industry

Tribal

Humanity was tribal for many an age
Talks of travel met with confusion and rage
There's danger out there, beyond that wall
Even talking to neighbours could be our downfall

Every tribe for itself. Every culture, contained
Independent people were quashed and contained
Information didn't spread, new relations weren't sewn
All anyone wanted was to be left alone



And then we began to push boundaries and explore
Through triumph and empire, humanity wanted more
Behind the warriors were those with notions more noble
Slowly, the earth became global

A world formed where we could speak across borders
Passage less risky, we formed a world order
Art could now be witnessed from many times and places
Smiles were shared between different types of faces


We are one tribe, even if we're of different factions
So, my friend, don't be so resistant in reaction
To those who think sharing cultures is a crime
Just think of them as a few (hundred) years out of time.

Give me reason

make me run
motivate me
give me motive
and i will fly

i can't just go
without reason
i need something
help me

else i will be static
never move
i want to see
the world

i'm asking politely
i would beg
but i need something
or someone
to run for

Vulnerable

I've been trying to let myself be more vulnerable recently, but honestly, it's kind of hard
All my life I've lived so far has taught me not to show my cards
That the world is out to get me, so I'd better watch my back
And that anyone not constantly on defense is vulnerable to attack
Easier by far not to be involved, better never to begin anything
Throw up every barrier and don't you dare. Let. Anyone. In.

Yes it can be draining. But we all manage it somehow.
And after years and years of training, I'm good at it by now.

This fort has become my home, a habit of it's own
So I sit within relaxed, guarded, and alone.

And I don't want to be anymore
And I don't know what will happen when I open up my doors
And I'm sorry for when I instinctively try to shut in in your face
Please. Please try again. Ignore that I have to brace.

I just didn't realise how defensive I'd become.
Wondering why that deep friendship wouldn't come
Until realising that anyone who looked in my direction
Simply saw a person with layer after layer of protection

So, I'm going to try
It'll be tough. I may question why.
If I let people in, sacrifices will have to be made.
I've seen many people hurt by others. And scars are a tricky trade.

Being vulnerable isn't enough. I know that in my heart.
But hey. I'm trying. And that's a start.

Rest

Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the day I will rest.
But tomorrow I agreed work to be done, and it has to be my best.
And there's this other favour, and that one too.
I don't think the tomorrow's rest will likely come true.

Maybe in a week? I'll say no to things people suggest.
I'll schedule one day in when I can truly rest.
Hold on though. I have this weekly commitment early each day.
And that stuff in a month that I just can't delay.

Next year, I'll be a whole different me.
Maybe I'll stop my job and work and degree.
And in that year, I'll make time to do nothing at all.
Because otherwise I know I'll just hit a wall.

When I am dead, maybe I shall lay still in my grave.
Or maybe I'll still twist and turn and work and slave.
With the knowledge of one more thing I should do.
With a promise of rest held when eternity is due.

True rest is needed, and not just doing a different task.
The ability to stop. Breath. To collect yourself at last.
We all need that time. A break from the day to day.
And if I can't promise myself tomorrow's rest, then I shall rest today.

Stutter

For once, she didn't stutter.

For once, in a life of squeals and mutters
She stood up, her heart a flutter
and she spoke.

A stunned silence.

A stunned silence in a world that had been filled with violence.
She's a person?
     Mental connections quickly reformed their alliance.

Off stage, eyes delayed blinking just a second longer
The audience assumed she really got into character
Because if this was her, then they'd mistreated her

Now, her voice had depth and resonance
Every action done to her now had relevance
The words flowed with power and intent

Art can be improvised. It can be practised.
It's audience can be anything from the world to a reflection.
But when it hits, it hits hard.

The girl knew this.
And,
for once
she didn't stutter.

The arc of the moral universe

"Evil may so shape events that Caesar will occupy a place and Christ a cross, but that same Christ will rise up and split history into Ad and BC, so that even the life of Caesar must be dated by his name. Yes, 'the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice'"

http://www.thekingcenter.org/archive/document/out-long-night-segregation#

It is a famous quote. You may have heard it before.
It may have confused you and given you pause,
So here I present it in a more full clause,
To help you appreciate just what this quote may be for.

In my eyes it is in nature spiritual
          The physical world may not follow the same
It does not say the ruthless will be forgotten
          We remember both Christ's and Caesar's names
It does not say that we don't need to try
         That fate will cast evil, eventually, with shame
It talks of God's plan, how we struggle to see it
         But his will be the glory, and his will be the fame

It may not serve as much comfort to persecuted nations
Nor give the persecutors all that much hesitation
Since, I believe, this quote is spiritual in its intentions
So it may just give worshipers one notion of celebration

That faith is worthwhile, in the eyes of the believer
And that which is belongs to him, shall be rendered onto Caesar

Inspiration from a fascinating article about how some people might misunderstand the quote - https://www.thedailybeast.com/obama-loves-martin-luther-kings-great-quotebut-he-uses-it-incorrectly

Rain

Do you fight the rain, or embrace it?
Do you back down or do you face it?

The rain hits hard, no one denies that
Yet it's also bearable, you must realise that
It may be unpleasant, or better from afar
Sounds better on the windows or roof of a car

But what if you know you'll have to walk in rain?
Do you live your life inside in full restrain?
Do you go outside, but only reluctantly
Protect what you can, shield your body lovingly

Or do you go out with open arms
No shield from rain, no shield from harm
The rain will pass. It's not that bad.
Your body adapts. Do not be sad.

Sometime you need to dive in, and let your mind be open.
You don't chose life's conditions, just how you approach them.

What she left behind

I can't even remember her face any more
I stared into her eyes for such a long time
What colour were they? Hazy.
Same as her hands, I so often held in mine
She was kind to me, I remember that
Especially when we left, tried to leave me with no pain
And with it she took nearly everything.
Memories. Seized along with her name.
She was greater than me, in a way I could never know
She was beautiful. Stunning. Someone I could never find.
I've tried looking, but there was no clues. Nothing.
There was only one thing she left behind.

The one thing she couldn't remove. She probably didn't have a choice.
She who one I loved.
      She who erased everything.
            She who left me alone.
                 She I can't recall.
I have but one final memory of it all.
That she had the most lovely voice.

     

The Compass and The Instructor

The Compass

The compass was a gift from God
But the needle refused to stay still
I'd walk three miles through deepest bog
Trying to follow its will

Today is a day we go North!
Needle held a steady line
Next day was East. I went forth
Then it showed South for a time

Occasionally, I would stop
Watch my compass circle round
Dive and dance and spin and drop
Sometimes point at the ground

While stationary I would panic
"I'm not going where I'm supposed to be"
While walking I'd grow manic
Following the whims of a force I could not see


I know not where I'm being led
I will walk through wind sun and shade
Following the smallest crumbs of bread
To feel that some progress has been made

The Instructor

The instructor, they took my hand

Adjusted the grip on my waist

Pushed my feet out slightly

Gave three instructions to my face

I had plenty of questions

But knew I was not allowed to ask

It was my job to learn

This oh-so-difficult task

The instructor was powerful

But gentle in their touch

I followed where they led

And did not question. Much.

Each time I tried, the same reply

Was whispered in my ear

Do not forget, my dear

I am the instructor here

In awe, I fell silent

Until another question would arise

This happened time and time again

Until, to my surprise

I finally lost myself in the dance. And then, for just a little while

We danced together as a pair, and I saw the instructor smile

Loving art

One reason people don't understand music, poetry, dancing or art
Is we are taught to analyse it at school
You need to fall in love, let it fill your heart
Let it make you act a total fool

You must learn each step, remember each note
Break down each and every line
And never feel the rhythm inside your throat
Never live inside the rhyme

You must say to that world of cynicism and fear
I don't know why, but I like this thing
Yes, this thing. This one right here.
It fills my mind, makes me want to sing

Don't be afraid, or embarrassed or scared
Let it fill you to your core
All art is flawed. All things are impaired.
Don't let that stop you wanting more

But you must learn to love, complete and true
Then, and only then
Will you want to break it down like school taught you too

You will want to break it down, understand how
This song you heard or drawing you found
Opened you up more than you'd ever normally allow
With just a brushstroke, or word, or sound

Study has it's place. But it must not come first.
Find that which means something to you
Then break it down, if you have the thirst
But let yourself love it through and through

Young Icarus

The sun is not for you, young Icarus
You will burn your wings trying to reach so tall

Let me burn my wings then
So that in learning how to rise, I will know what it is to fall
Just as I know it is better to have learned to dream
Than never to have flown at all

Icarus, The fall will be great
You will never return to the sky

Would it be better not to leave the ground?
Should I also make sure I don't jump too high?
To be human is to fail
And what could be more human than one last great goodbye

You must know restraint boy
The world will learn lessons from how you fly

What lessons do they expect?
What marvels they may see
Not one who has clipped wings
But one who soars above the sea

Your pride will be your downfall
In both ways, you end alone

But I will end up alone in the heavens either side
My tale is not of caution
The tale of Icarus is not of pride
Just that it is possible to fail
For those that dare to touch the sky

Dream, young child

Dream, young child.
Your path is before you.

You could do a thousand things
But you can't do all of them

So, for now, you need to dream
You need to aspire

You need to pick
Need to choose

Need a way to pick the left fork
Or, sometimes, know what's right

No human will pick 'em quite like you
So you need to become yourself

Dream, young child
Your path is before you
And you alone

ray of light

I want to be your ray of light
If you will let me shine
I know you have walked in darkness
So let me share this light of mine

I have been fortunate of late
With few obstacles in by path
If you will let me use this extra time
I would like to make you laugh

Even though we walk our own way
You need not walk alone
And, dear friend of mine
I know your struggle is one you own

But, if you let me, then for a while
I will be a ray of light, and try to make you smile.

Time to rest

It's been a busy time
Life's been a rush
Work has been hard
Expectations a must

You've been off you feet
There are scars and blisters
Seized every chance
Missed some by a whisker

Your brain's at a limit
Your heart is in stress
You've been piled upon
As a well-structured mess

You've done what you can - You've done your best.
Finally, it is time to rest.

Static

At first, there's only static

The spit and crackle

With shh and speckle

White noise.

Underneath

If you listen long

Strain your ears

And manage not to go mad

Do you hear it?
please

Tell me

You hear it?

Beneath all static, there are words

foreign, distant

Deliberate

Words

Calling

Do not fall in to the noise

Do not listen too closely

Lest you too

Become

Static

Candles

We shared a moment,
which turned into eternity.

We listened to each other,
even when we could hardly hear.

We sent gifts of love,
not knowing if they would reach.


It would be easy to give up
To let go of what we had
To accept the loss
Live in a darker world.

Instead, we strove to reach the candles in the distance.
Knowing that, if we did, we could shine together beyond imagination.

Lover

What makes a good lover?
Is it virtue enough to be attracted to each other?
Let's praise each day for all that we do.
If our love is true there's not a single fault with you.

Now, I admire a good love story as long as I have a tissue
But if we talk about such love as truth then I have an issue
You know humans? Kind of goofy looking, walk on their back paws
Well they're living and they're breathing and they're not without flaws

They try their best but they make mistakes
So love can turn into a test of how much you can take
So to love unconditionally without condemnation
To take no action when they hurt you is foolish infatuation

To love is to be vulnerable. Yo, to love is to take risks.
Love is not just for the able. It is for illness, age, broken bones, and slipped disks.
It is for the rich and the poor. For the strong and the weak.
Love, at its core, is kind of bleak.

But in that bleakness, it is beautiful.


What makes a good lover?
            One who sees beauty through the cracks.
            One who does not drift away or turn their back.
A good lover is kind. A good lover is forgiving.
A good lover gives a life that is worth living.

Visualising Eternity

One time, as a young child, I ventured outside my front door.
On my own.
I marvelled at how big the world was.

I knew my way to the shops at the end of my street.
It was a long walk.
I couldn't have gone much further.

As I grew, that street didn't seem as long anymore.
Familiarity shrinks the world.
But Curiosity grows it.

And I am a curious man, so before long I knew every street in my city.
I knew how long they were, how they connected.

And my city no longer seemed that big.

Then I left home, and I realised the world was much bigger than I imagined.
I shrunk that city too.

Then even more cities and even countries.

I have now walked many streets, yet barely covered more of the world than when I first began.
The world seems smaller.
And yet endless.

The issue with infinity and eternity, is that we are here and now.
In one place.
In one time.

And yet, somehow, I feel I appreciate the endless more.
For the efforts I started,
When I stepped outside my front door.

Jesus remains.

The World turns. And we turn too
Subject to whatever forces the world puts us through
Seasons rotate. We are passengers on this ride
Gripping on with gravity as we fly side-by-side

Time passes. And so we all must age.
Sometimes we forget, and it fills us with rage
About how mannerisms are different, not like they were before
As we come to terms with a World we don't recognise anymore

Friends change. The learn, adapt, and meet others
Some will fall way, others stay close as lovers.
You've changed too, so do not become numb
You must accept the new people you and your friends have become.

Jesus remains. In a changing world, Jesus remains.
Recognise this, and you'll be thankful of his name
You will always be changing. This fact is known.
But whoever you are,
       whoever you become
Jesus will be there to welcome you home.

You

hello You
                how are You?

more importantly, who are You?
and is it who You want to be?

i don't mean to pry, i'm asking seriously.

see we all have an image of ourselves in our head.
is it different from the mirror? who are You instead?




maybe You have grand plans for the future
maybe you don't
maybe You follow through.
maybe you wont


but i have a question - are you working towards that You?
and are You flexible? do you allow Your path to split in two?

or are You stuck? no movement from who You are and who You want to be.
that would seem a very sad thing to me.


you know You. better than anyone else on this earth.
and You've already changed so much since birth.

but You can get stuck in a rut, fixed in routines
this reminder is to remember Your dreams


so, in summary:
who are You? how does it link to who do You want to be?
and if you find out
                              could you tell Me?

To live, and to feel alive

Some things I do to live.
Other things, to feel alive.
Let me explain.

As one of many fragile ageing beings clinging on a coincidentally inhabited rock, hurtling through the great endlessness of space, I am scared of what challenges tomorrow will bring.
But, as a human. One with family and friends and ambition, I want to know what adventures tomorrow has in store for me.

Every time I take a breath of air, it is my lungs informing my brain "Go on, take one more. Keep the cycle going. You aren't stopping on my watch."
When I take a deep breath of air, my lungs assure my brain "This one, this one will be worth it. Enjoy."

Each time I blink, I must close my eyes to the world. Often I do this so that I can refresh my vision, and to make sure these eyes of mine don't give up on me yet.
If I close my eyes, slowly. Take a pause, and then open them again - I will have light stream straight through my retinas and right into my brain. I will see colour, and contrast, and beauty!

When I ingest food, my stomach instructs me "Eat up. You need energy in order to do all the tasks that I must necessarily achieve this day."
But what if I add salt, or spice? That's me negotiating with my body and saying "But life is more than just the necessity".

Every step I take both helps keep my body working, my lungs pumping, my muscles contracting and my bones growing tough. But it also lets me explore a vast world which still hold many secrets.

Every friend I make is another who will give me advice and comfort when life is being its particularly over-demanding self. Each friend is also someone with whom I can joke and smile and create memories with.

If I get a job, the money is used to keep a roof over my head, keep rain off my back, and keep water flowing to my lips.
Before I realise, the money is then used to keep a cushion under my feet, keep hair off my chin, and keep entertainment flowing to every sense I possess, helping me celebrate my time on this Earth.

Too often, the line between what we do to live, and what we do to feel alive, is blurred.

Unblur it.

Unblur it so you can better appreciate all the necessities you manage each day, for they are achievements in themselves.
Unblur it so you can better appreciate all the extra things you do, which give life something more.

Our bodies may not be so unique, but we are.

So, take a stand, and join me. Breathe once, so you may live. Then breath deep, so you can feel alive.

I can't know.

I can't know what you've gone through.
I just can't.


Maybe it's an identity thing.
You share with others, not me.

Maybe it's blindness.
Something I refuse to see.

If I see it one day, I'll apologise.
I hope it will be enough.

Because, I know that you've survived.
You're made of some tough stuff.



I can't know what you've gone through.
It would be slander to pretend.

That also means I can't feel it.
There will be no lies on my end.


But I can still see the suffering.
And so with your permission.

I'll simply be a shoulder.
And an ear, with which to listen.

The whole world is listening

The whole world is listening.
You grab a mic and the whole world is listening.

What do you say?

They wait, hanging on each word.
Every ear ready
For you

Speak.

You must
Build up courage
Gather yourself
And
speak

You wont get this chance again

Not unless you seize them by scruff of the neck and make your point in such a way that no one
could deny
you

You, who right now have a message to give
A message that will help those who hear.
Well, the whole world is listening.
So speak. And be heard.

Part of my on-going attempt to be better at non-performance style poetry. Inspiration - https://flobots.bandcamp.com/track/american-dreams

In a war

Right now, we're in a war. But, we won't always be.
One day there won't be guns and conflict as far as we can see.
There won't be a man, gun in hand, waiting to kill us on sight.
One day there won't be a war. We will have ended this fight.

In this generation, we fight for a cause.
We fight without mercy, fight without pause.
We survive one tough day, two tough days. All days are the same!
War is normality. Head down. Take aim.

In only one generation, we can talk across nations.
Our children will be nervous, speak with hesitation
When asking us parents "What did you do in the war".
Still jingoistic, still traumatised, we steel up, say we gave 'em what for.

Two generations, amnesia starts to sink in.
As we who survived now mostly sink in our coffin.
They'll say "Dear old Grandpa, he can't have been bad.
I remember his laugh, and the good times we had."

Three generations, and relationships are made.
Where nations once sought death, love is displayed.
This eternal fight of ours doesn't have to be theirs.
We keep fighting so they can live a life without cares.

Four generations, and a daughter of a son of a daughter of a son.
Wants to know everything her great great grandpa has done.
She sets aside emotion, travels 100 years back in time.
Holding me accountable for every last murder and every last crime.

In this war, we fight. We'll do things, and we won't be proud.
One side will win. Their side of history will be loud.
You don't chose the future. You have to live when you happen to be.
Right now we're at war.  But, God Willing, we won't always be.


Dedicated to a German friend, and her pursuit of the actions of her ancestors. A link to her reaction (and the rest of her blog, detailing her adventures) can be found here.

Is life a race, or a dance?

Is life a race, or a dance?

If life is a race, let me run.
Let me not need to pause.
Leave my rivals in dust.

If life is a race, let me finish first.

If life is a dance, then let me take time to perfect my steps.

Let me appreciate tap, while dancing for my break.

Find solice in slow tunes, and fire in the fast.

If life is a dance, then let me find my own rhythm.

In both race and dance, I am not alone.

People push me further.

In a race, I force myself to the front.

In a dance, we can alternate the lead.

Is life a race, or a dance?

I don’t know.

But I know which I’d prefer.

Empathy

Empathy. It's the great human curse and the great human gift.
When you see your friends smile - it gives your heart a lift
It's the thing that fills us with utmost joy
When we know someone blessed with a new girl or boy

But it's not all cheer. There's something else inside.
Like most things in life - empathy has two sides
For every head there's a tail,  courage for each fright
There's a hero for each villain and shadows are cast by light

So I'm sure you've felt sadness you wished you could stop
Often there's feelings we just want to block.
From the small to the large, it can overwhelm.
Life can be tough with empathy at the helm.

Empathy. It's the ability to feel what others are feeling.
So let us all be grateful that human empathy has a ceiling.

Imaging you had some people you made as your own.
You'd seen them flourish, see how they'd grown.
And then you'd seen them do wrong, seen them sin.
You've a welcome home, but can never let them in.
To be separated for eternity, to experience loss.
And the only way to avoid this has the greatest cost.

Jesus. He saw us suffering. He took our sin.
Took every pain on his back. Every wrongdoing. Everything.
And marched up to a death we struggle to imagine today.
And he did it out of love. He saw our toll, and decided he'd pay.

God lost a son. We lost a saviour. It is right to mourn and be sad.
But it is human to share this feeling, so let us remember what we had.


Last poem was written for a Maundy Thursday service - but they asked me not to mention the resurrection. So, I had to write another. 

He is risen

Have you heard? Have I heard?
About this thing that's absurd:
This kid down in Nazareth got all uppity
Seems to me he's got a problem with authority
Went up to the leader of the Pharisees
And gives him a lesson in theology
As a kid? As a kid
Seems to me this kid is not messing around
He is going to cause problems all over town

Have you heard? Have I heard?
About this thing that's absurd:
This kid, the one of the Pharisee fame
Seems he's grown up and has started making an honest name
As a carpenter, and then he threw it away
Threw it away? Seems the part of his heart that yearned to dismay
Led him to challenge the temple's money changers
In his anger throwing tables - this guy is headed for danger

Have you heard? Have I heard?
About this thing that's absurd:
So, you know that guy who berated those using church for profit?
He claims to be a messiah - the one foretold by prophets.
And he claims to be behind some miraculous events
And his claims, well his claims. I swear, they make some sense.
This guy makes sense? Well in the way he talks about the poor, needy, and forgiveness
Here's my two cents, it's something you must witness!

Have you heard? Have I heard?
About this thing that's absurd:
The preacher from the mount, the King of the Jews?
Seems he finally has to pay his dues
And I don't know for certain if what he said was true
But it annoyed every person of power right through.
His friends abandoned him, he'll be up on a cedar cross.
He'll stand alone for his crime of making leaders cross.
Pilate tried to forgive him. But he must face the walk.
And pay for the message of love in his talk.

Have you heard? Have I heard?
About this thing that's absurd:
That Jesus is gone. The guy on the cross - he finally died.
I can't believe it. I felt I knew the guy.
I though he was bigger than death, immune somehow.
Honestly, I'm not sure what to believe now.

Have you heard? Have I heard?
About this thing that's absurd:
Jesus is risen! My friend, rejoice, Jesus is risen!
He took our sins on his back and now we're forgiven!
This is a new day. Everything is different to before
It's a miracle, and one only possible through the Lord
Let us cheer and celebrate, and honour it thus:
We shall remember this date, and all Jesus did for us.

Correct Technique

I've wondered for a while - do I write with correct technique?
Or am I more a mish-mash, a creative freak?


I know I'm not a poet who is learned in his way
I know my rhyme schemes cause dismissal and dismay
If I sit down with one who studied properly past sixteen years
I'm often overcome with turgid terminology that fills my fears


Look, I'm an academic in enough of what I do already
My poetry is an escape to keep my boat steady
It takes the build up inside of emotion and thought
And releases it all to escape this fort


I will never be the next, well, whoever is supposed to be famous
I know I'll never hang out with the poetic elite and a-list
But by doing my own thing, maybe I hit on something new?
Else, maybe I'm closer to the proper poets than I ever knew?


Does it matter? Probably not, I'm just thinking
Releasing thoughts aloud that I sometimes sit back and sink in
Just know - if I find I am a fraud, it's an identity I'll foster
As I try to claim the title of most ambitious imposter.




Written while listening to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfoyqjucqXA

The kid could fly

The kid could fly.

By Jove and by Jupiter, this kid could fly!

They could, but wouldn't. So I had to ask why.

"Hey kid!", I asked in a not unkind tone,
To the kid who was sat looking guilty on his own.

"Don't worry" I rushed, "I don't mean to cause a fuss
But I must enquire - did you just feel a gust"?

I made an indirect enquiry, wishing to give the kid space.
I wasn't wishing to be mean - I just didn't want his talents to waste.

And I think the kid realised where my question had been heading.
You'd have thought that I'd asked the kid how to get to Armageddon.

It took much cajoling, and convincing of intent,
To let the kid know - what I wanted was innocent.

You see I'd see the kid hover, by a centimetre at most.
Only for a second - they flickered like a ghost.
But man, I thought what I could do with such power.
I wouldn't fly by the millisecond - I'd fly by the hour!

The kid swore me to secrecy (and you see I've kept my vow),
And swore she'd never give me the answer of "how"
But the answer of why she kept power under wraps?
She looked at me nervously, her nails began to tap.

"I dreamt of glory. And saw what it would mean.
In my head I was a saviour. In my head I became a queen.
The I saw what that would be, and what would come to be true.
I saw what terrible things such power can do.

Right now I'm a person - and I'm developing as such.
But this power of mine, it became my crutch.
I saw myself stagnate, in a place no one could touch me.
And so no one developed. And it saddened me muchly.

So I'm keeping it hidden. On lockdown if you will.
Believe me it's tough. I do miss the thrill.
I can fly through the clouds, if I wrap myself warm.
I can dance with the birds, be one with their swarm.

But for the sake of others not being intimidated by me.
I'll stay on the ground. With no power you can see."

The kid was insistent, even though she looked filled with regret.
About the things she can't do. About the secret that must be kept.
Though I disagreed with the answer, I accepted it and walked away.
Thinking about how this kid had been given such an important part to play.
A part they had taken a long look at, and rejected goodbye.
Leaving me with naughty but the tale
of the kid that could
but wouldn't
fly.               

The importance of keeping things short

If you have a speech to make
Here's some tips you ought to take
Keep it short, keep it sweet
Don't you lead them to their sleep

I know you have a lot to say
And could go on for a whole day
But they have all got a place to be
A thing to do, a friend to see

So work out how you'll keep it short
Keep it tight like you've now been taught
Take out each word that is there just for you
And then you might just be set to

Make a speech, one which holds it's own
Before they can...too late.
                                        Bring out their phones.

The Show Is Over

The show is over, but the show is not done.
In one sense, the show has only just begun
Think of this, before you leave this show and me
You've granted "right now" a place in your memory

Now there's a real chance you'll forget this quick
That the thought of this night will just not stick
So all that remains of all you now see
Is a small memory of maybe some poetry

Some of you, may remember what you've heard
Will remember this show, remember some words
Words that follow you home and into your bed
So that when you dream, there'll be poetry in your head

Some lines will have left you smitten
Some lines will beging to be rewritten
New poems will start to form
New ideas will be born

You'll start to write. To create. To build a new thing.
And out of the ashes of the old show, a new show will begin.

Ghosts

I don't believe in ghosts. But they believe in me.

I walk my life as any human was who was free.

I feel the crunch of dry leaves under my feet.

I take two lefts and a right. I turn around and then repeat.

There are drips overhead. That plumbing needs a fix.

Details enter my head. The ghosts enjoy their tricks.

Many footsteps surround me. I am not jostled at all.

At the hint of any contact, I would surely stumble, fall.

A door. Focus now. A door handle is before my hand.

I extend my arm and grip it. This entrance was pre-planned.

I walk over the doorway, across an ordinary mat.

A little bell rings overhead, and wakes a sleepy cat.

I stand, judging it. Do the ghosts have this one too?

I gather myself, walk forward. Many things I walk through.

This pocket contains many perils. I bring forth, unscathed, a watch.

It's ticking is uneven. The gears need check for any crack or notch.

I cannot have this. The lack of regularity drives me insane.

A figure (two?) agree that a faulty watch would be a shame.

Given four hours, they can fix it. I sit. I observe.

Carefully. Quietly. Waiting for any straight line to curve.

Is it done? I only ask when I know for certain it is, yes.

I apologise for my awkwardness, during the time I was watch-less.

I exhale. The ticks. My ticks. Not slow. Not quick.

My time. I turn. And walk. Job done. Tick tick.

I don't believe in ghosts. But they believe in me.

With a working watch in hand, I now walk a bit more lightly.

The power of voices

Good morning, good evening.
Good day. How're you feeling?
No matter what you say or your flavour of greeting
We love to talk - our words give life meaning

But sometimes, sometimes, our words leave us screaming
Wanting to take back what we said, start retreating
Sometimes we're scared of the power our words can impart
We wish we could stop it, cower, go back to the start

See for all the times that we use our words wisely
We also try to get an edge by using our words wily
And it could be a joke that we hope will be funny
Or trying to cope when we know life isn't sunny
And inside you bet we regret what was said
We have died from dismay on replay in our head

We hate the person that said them - even though it was us
We are versed in acceptance - not making a fuss
As it's hard to admit when your unfit for forgiveness
In a bit maybe - but for now I'll live with this

The most powerful word that I've heard is sorry.
Spoken when we've awoken to give an apology.
And it's rare that it's honest, rare that it's true.
Sincerity is valuable, something hard to live through.

But if you're living with regret for words you want undone.
Then you know the power that your words have spun.
And if those words are powerful, know other words must be as well.
Including the words to bring you back from your hell.

Sentient Water

Now I don't know which mad cap scientist with a corporate ear
Was the first to remark Sentient water! Hey, what a good idea.
But it honestly has to rank in the top three bad ideas this decade.
Right after the sandpaper toothbrush and interns not being paid.

The original justification was dubious at best.
There's water scarcity and abundance, it's clear humans have made a mess
In trying to sort out where to put water on this land
So why don't we let the water come up with a plan.

So we did. We gave it brain and senses and existential dread
And we tried to let water sort out its own future instead.
Naturally it fled. Very quickly, at high speed. Away from humanity.
So began to great water hunt, and the start of our insanity.

Now, don't let me pretend that it wasn't a little bit fun.
Pursuing water across many cycles of moon and sun.
But soon all the air from our lungs was expired.
As we became slow, dehydrated and tired.

We'd caught, quite quickly, the water that was soft.
It succumbed quickly, we held it victorious, aloft.
Then, by the known process of natural selection
The water that was hard naturally gained our attention.

It was toughened by minerals, charged by ions.
It started a battle that would last for eons.
We'd chase and it'd learn, and sometimes claim one of our own.
It would divide and erode us, seeking to catch us alone.

There was never a treaty, just raw primal chase.
As we battled our creation - the new water race.
There were many victories on each side, but heed the truth of this fable:
Never trust anything with "smart water" on the label.

Why I believe

I don't believe because it is easy. My religion calls itself foolish.
I don't believe because I think I am special. My religion is open to all.
I don't believe because I feel it makes me better. My religion centres around my sin.

I believe, because I think that it is true.

So, why then, do I believe with my heart, as well as my brain?
Because, out of all possible truths, this one is so glorious.
Out of all the world that might have been,
Out of all the things that might have been true,
The world I find myself in is one where my creator loves me.
It is one where I can be forgiven.
It is one of caring.
It is a world of joy.

This is why I believe.

When do you stand?

When, my friend, do you take your stand?
When do you rise to make your voice heard?

Maybe you stand as the last of the crowd.
You rise when all around you have taken their feet.
You wait until you feel you are allowed.
You take no risk, so you will never feel defeat.

Maybe you stand to push the movement.
You are the toppling point to the majority.
Your choice is not easy, but made with intent.
You shall always stand with history.

Do you stand when the ideas are full formed?
You see the movement, and see where it will head.
You take the risk, but the fire is warmed.
You shall stoke it higher instead.

Do you stand near the start, to form a voice.
To cement ideas, make the movement go.
You do not play with minds or toys.
You honestly believe in this thing you know.

Are you the first. The first to stand up tall.
Are you the reason we all stand now?
Did you take the mocking? Survive it all?
You who stood, take a bow.

All are needed. This time, the crowd has won the day.
So, my friend. When will you stand next time?