Find beauty

Hey. Hey you.

I know your life probably isn't what you thought it would be, but I hope you can see the beauty in it still.

That the steps between seconds are not lost in the shuffle
Nor the colours that fall in the gaps of a rainbow's natural hue
I hope that the songs which bring a smile to your face are listened to without guilt
That you see the small but glorious things that surround you

Once it is gone, I have missed the way a friend used to say hello
Or the colour of the stone on the streets I used to walk
But I can return, and the absence has taken a toll
There will always be a echo of the way we used to talk

Some folk find beauty in people, or in nature, or in something else still
I hope you find it wherever you can. Even when it is hard to find.
No matter what path life takes you, it is still you doing the journey
And we all need beauty to help us get through those things that bind

The photographer

The photographer earned their wage as you might expect
Photographing conventionally beautiful things without regret
Mountains and models, sunsets and singers
Such elegance captured with a click of their fingers

But it wasn't just that, they were truly a pro
They had a knack for angle and lighting and flow
Heightening whatever existed there before
And elevating it into something much more

...

But the photographer takes fewer appointments each day
They gets enough with what each client will pay
It's in the "free time" that they really ply their trade
With no reputation or money to be made

All inspired by on a warm day by a knock at the door
From a child who looked frozen to their core
The child had seen the pictures, had heard the fame
And wanted just one chance to stand inside the frame

The child was ill, was sickly, and had been told to its face
That it could never be beautiful, or filled with grace
If you've been told enough times you're ugly even if you smile
You'll fight it, believe it, then internalise it after a while

It was the hardest job the photographer had ever done
And even after it was over, didn't know if the battle was won
Until the child saw the photo, and beamed with the biggest most beautiful grin
Then the photographer knew which battles it was worth trying to seek out and win

...

So no matter who asks, if they overlap with his "free time" at all
The photographer will not deign to entertain their calls
Instead look for those people in need and those spots in the shade
Only there will you see the photographer pursue their real trade

Inspiration - https://imgur.com/gallery/1meSLGk 

I'll do this tomorrow

Dear distinguished madam or sir,
Are you too owed a day of productivity?
A promise of "I'll do this tomorrow for sure"
A promise that 'yesterday-you' has extended indefinitely?

Well, I'm delighted to let you know
You may be entitled to compensation
I should tell you in advance though
That it is not a bounteous renumeration

Are you sure you want to open this gift of Pandora?
Becuase if you do take a peak inside
You'll realise there is nothing to make you less poorer
Just many lost days with self-supplied lies

But, well, there is just one more thing
There is the memories of the days you did act
Where you seized the day and its offering
A deep set of memories that you can bring back

And with those memories, there is Hope
You can choose who rises at dawn
And if it happens to be a day you struggle to cope
You don't have to work evening, afternoon, and morn

Write a single line, and it is a line that now exists
That you can make a promise to do more on tomorrow
For when you start fulfilling promises
You will stop focusing on the debt you used to owe

Me, but younger

I remember who I was way back in the day
I remember being young and tryna make my way
I can remember that I struggled and had everything to loose
Now I'm nostalgic for that security and ability to snooze

So I've grown
Older and taller and a little bit wiser
So I've grown
Hopefully kinder and not into a miser
So I've grown
I've met many friends and been many places
So I've grown
And I know that I've worn many different faces

I'm still the same person that I was back then
But I'm not the *same* person I was back then
I've learned many lessons that I wouldn't want to relearn
I'll act in different way if given my turn

I started out a youngest kid learning how to walk
I grow up and figured out how not to mumble but to talk
I paid attention to the barriers I had to pass in education
And finally became less awkward in social situations

I embraced my vulnerability rather than trying to hide it away
All of which lead me to the person I find myself today
And I don't mean superficial things like my hair is longer
Or that I don't appreciate the fact I've got stronger

I mean I don't look back and think "man, he was dense"
It's not third person, just me with les experience
I don't think it helps to imagine the person in the past wasn't me
Just to realise that I was still deciding what "being myself" could be

Songs that make you cry

I find creating tough sometimes
Getting motivation to craft silly rhymes
Trying to find a unique thought I can catch
Then having to make the syllables match

Creation is, at its core, a little bit strange
And though I work on my rhythm and work on my range
I still cling to any moment of virtue I find
All to settle these tenacious doubts in my mind

And then

And then I find a song that makes me cry
And then, and then I want to try
To write something so honest and true
That despite the silly rhymes my heart can pour through

Because you can't cry at something without connecting
To pick up the anguish that person must be projecting
But it takes skill. And patience. And more, all through the pain.
To channel that overflowing emotion into an honest refrain.

I forget it often, but there nothing so inspiring to me
Than to remember how powerful art can be

***

Because this poem naturally hints at an inspiration, I've only just discovered Frank Turner and was listening to Song for Josh. In exchange for sating your curiosity, if you're reading this, please send me a song that really connected with you.

Your challenge is ready

You want a challenge? Ok, let's go:
Be the reason that someone smiles tomorrow

If you want, you can put in the hard work today
Be kind to someone who comes your way
Listen to someone who is having a hard time
Write a friend a jaunty rhyme
Bake some cakes to give to someone new
They'll smile tomorrow when they think of you

Or push the deadline, seize opportunity
Tell a joke to give the air some levity
Invite someone alone to to go for lunch
Get some grapes then share a bunch

It ain't always easy, so appreciate this all the while
How thankful you are for the people that make you smile

Bitter tastes

I've never been a fan of bitterness

It's a taste I adverse to but nonetheless
I hear so many people I respect talk its praise
They all wax lyrical about bitter days
How it builds them, instils in them
A hope that can improve them
That the bitterness sits In a way to make things better
Without bitterness, any sweetness is just an inkless letter
Give me coffee, give me dark chocolate. Give. Me. Beer. 

Meanwhile I'm just sitting in the dark out here.
Bitterness has only ever filled me with a sense of fear.

Why would I find joy in the taste of a tear?
I'm not spurred on by a series of unfortunate events
And I don't believe every misfortune is heaven-sent
But they enjoy the aftertaste it leaves on your lips
Savouring the unpleasantness upon their nerve tips
And I'll never tell them they're wrong for a cup of strong black tea

Just let them know that I'm afraid it just isn't for me
It's not what inspires me to step on my next journey

So then what, if not bitterness, makes me a motivatee?
What gives me get up and go if not a bitter taste?
There's so much value in bitterness why let it go to waste?
Well, quite simply, I want to have a more positive mind.

There's so much criticism it's easy to find.
I'm more driven instead by not falling behind.

Trying to push myself even if going in blind.
To be a better me, because I want to get better.

Not because I'm upset with where I am. I'm not bitter.
I can appreciate my climb and still want to go higher.

Instead of seeking determination, I'd rather be inspired.

Tough Love

We all develop in different ways
With different ladders on different days
There's so much nuance in how we grow
In the debts of knowledge we chose to owe

And yet, with many an option and solution
Some always lean towards one resolution
No matter the problem, it rises above
They claim the only answer to be "tough love"

Now, I'm not saying tough love doesn't have it's place
But it should always come second to patience and grace
A last resort when other options fail
A way to bitterly end an overly long tale

And I'm not necessarily saying tough love doesn't succeed!
I haven't done to research on that point that I need
Instead I'm focusing on the price, the cost
The bad things you gained and the good things you lost

That's the thing about tough love. It's tough.
And some people (most people) have already had enough
So forgive me my softness, but in its stead
I think I'll settle for "kind love" instead

Across humanity

All across humanity
I have met many friends
Across races and religions
Across cities and glens

They have different hair
Some are small some are tall
Their accents are unique
And I'm fond of them all

But to get to this point
I had to unlearn many things
To forget any stereotypes
That my subconscious brings

I have to be open
See each person anew
To exist on their own
Let the human shine through

It is not always easy
Sometimes I spoke wrong
Being social is hard
Forgiveness can be long

But for all my efforts
I am thankful in the end
So that across humanity
I can know many friends

Sword or shield

It's the same old situation you already know
You're on your knees, facing down a foe
You'll need some help to make it through this day
So you put your hands together and pray

But when you pray, do you pray for a sword, or for a shield?
For the strength to strike, or the fortitude to not yield?
Now, maybe it's machismo or maybe it's something more
But, for me, I feel I've strength enough inside my core

I don't want any more power at my command
But I would not turn down a greater ability to withstand
For an extra shelter from a hard day's rain
Or some balm to soothe away some pain

But more than that, I don't wish to strike another down
For current rivals in a conflict-filled town
It could be ego or folly, but something I do believe true
Is to never use force beyond which I absolutely have to

And I am filled with fear and awe for the power above
That I cannot wish for such a sword with love
Instead I'll pray for a shield in spite of it all
A second chance that stops my falter becoming my fall

Together or Alone

You may have that courage to go it alone
To fight well your solo quest
Go ahead young hero, claim your throne
I wish you naught but the best

But do not feel you lack in heart
If you need others on your path
If you wish friends to take part
To lend you aid or make you laugh

We are all merely finding our way
With broken compasses and misty trails
Different tolls we all must pay
With simple truths and fantastic tails

Whether or not your ride is solitary
I still hope, when you take respite
You would share your story with me
And are honest about any fight

Choose kindness

Where possible, choose kindness
And then double check your working
It's easy to miss, in rush and mess
And apathy is always lurking

Often, we think too much of ego
We're scared of what the world will see
Too fearful of judgement and woe
Not enough belief in what-could-be

So, lean back, think and breath deep
Consider all the actions you could take
Think about the barriers you keep
Some might stand strong, but others break

There are times when we take another road
Money, time, or danger all stand in our way
But do consider, from this little ode
If you can choose to a kinder route today

Sowing Seeds

I would love for my life to send ripples through time
Such that people remember my name
Who wouldn't want to leave an impact on life
And achieve everlasting fame?

But, nowadays, I think a little less of that
About if the future will remember me
Much more I just try to make the best of today
To improve that which I can hear and see

History will not record me doing small charity works
Or giving my friend an encouraging smile
So if my legacy was all I cared about
Then these actions wouldn't be worthwhile

When I was younger I wished to be remembered
By people whose names I will never know
Now I care more for spreading sunlight around me
Than in finding my own seeds to sow

Sparkless Days

I don't like doing days without my spark
But I know we all have to sometimes
Maybe it's good to learnt to navigate the dark
Or how to write non-heartfelt rhymes

It is just tough, when I start to reflect
That I was simply following my algorithms that day
Maybe my melancholy started to infect?
Maybe others could tell I wasn't the right way?

Yet if I don't have a spark, what else can I do?
As much as I want to rest, it's best to attack
See the day and its challenges through
And maybe even win my spark back

But we all get limited days to call our own
And not every day is going to feel swell
So rather than sit and gripe and moan
I'll try to appreciate things in my sparkless days as well

Practice

    This poem is just me practicing my lines
Nothing more, and nothing less
    It simply serves a lyrical marker
A step from which I will progress

    One day, after many years and words have passed
A rhyme or line might be reused
    Maybe for a poem I care deeply about
Or a small ditty to keep me amused

    This poem though, is not deep
It just serves as a foundation
    That does not mean it's not important!
Just that it's not worth your consideration

    For the poem that I one day memorise
With stanzas I learn to recite with passion
    Will contain countless foundations
Many threads within its fashion

    This poem is just me practicing my lines
It stand alone. Rough, jagged, but whole.
    And I am very thankful for poems like this
Because without them, I would never reach my poetic goal. 

    

Partial victory

If you can't fix it fully, why even try?
What point is such effort worth?
Just give up, they plead and cry
And cease any attempt henceforth

As nice is quick solutions are
Some things can't be solved in one leap
Honestly, this realisation can take you far
Despite not really being that deep

Because some people seem to oppose
Incremental progress of any kind
I will never solve racism, sexism, or other woes
I wont eliminate a disease of body or mind

But I may be one less straw on a camel's back
And I may lift off one more while I'm there
I can ask others to help this incremental attack
Together, we can make a load easier to bare

So I may not solve racism by taking a knee
I may not stop Covid by wearing a mask
But if I'm not harming anyone then maybe
These small steps aren't too much to ask?

Especially if I'm not acting as one
And you take these small steps with me
Because these big battles can be won
If we recognise a partial victory is still a victory

Wake into Sleep

I love that moment
Of wake into sleep
The jump into dream
More saunter than leap

The engulfing calm
From deep under skin
The rising fluff
Grows somewhere within

With tired eyes
And peaceful brain
From wake to sleep
A beautiful refrain

WHOSE CURSED SIBLING
CAN GO STEP ON A RAKE
THAT MOST HATED MOMENT
OF SLEEP INTO WAKE 

Moving

I always forget that I own a defined number of things
Until, that is, the moving bells ring
Then it's all in boxes, ready to go
Objects to keep, objects to throw

If it's been three years or less than one
It's always an effort until it's done
Filtering each object through my memory
Deciding which ones are still dear to me

And then, and then, it always seems so bare
Seeing my whole life packed away there
That all the extra things I possess
Are sorted, filed, and heavily compressed

It's the finiteness that always strikes my core
That I own this much and not one thing more
Until I reach my next resting place when
I can begin to expand to infinity again

Trust the Science

I guess I could say I believe in the Science
with certain caveats to clarify my alliance
why the caution in this particular refrain?
let me say that Science is superb in its domain

but Science is flawed when it comes to History
one time events are a Scientific mystery

and while Science does have a certain rhythm
Poetry and Science theory will lead to a schism

I'm not saying Science doesn't have a place in Art
but paint strokes are lacking unless caused by the heart

yes, Science really starts to push its boundary
when focussed on solving a Sociological quandary 

and don't get me started on Science and Theology
where matters of uncertainty make it hard to reason properly

Still. With those caveats down. Maybe a couple more as well.
Let me state that Science, in it's place, is truly without parallel.
Science has managed to send actual people to space.
Science has cured diseases which plagued the human race.
Science allows us to build structures which reach up to the sky.
Science allows us to know which chemicals harm us and why.

Science is discussion. Science is in fact debated.
It's just discussion which is heavily moderated.
It's not that science is uncaring or that science doesn't care.
Science is just a tool to help us understand things that are there.

It's up to humans use the knowledge that Science can provide us.
To ensure the procurement of said knowledge wasn't subject to our bias. 
Yes, the process of Science is messy. But I know, and you must
That in the right domain, Science is really the best thing you can trust.

...and I will take my well-earned rest

...and I will take my well-earned rest
I respect the fact the Day has done her best
We have shared adventures, danced a while
I made some friends, maybe made a smile
Maybe I travelled some way away
Or put a performance on today
Whatever happened, whatever the flavour
I battled strong and did not waver
I did well the challenges laid before me
But now I feel I can sleep easy
For the Day is done, I've passed her test
and I will take my well-earned rest

Searching for God

A feeling that I've had that I'm sure many others share
Is "Oh God, why are You so hard to find?"
It doesn't take much to realise that it's in character
Our all-loving, all-powerful, all-knowing creator? He's just being kind

A small wind can reignite an ember that's almost died
But a large wind will knock down anything in its way
A small light can serve as our guide
But a large light will force us to turn away

And I don't believe He wishes to harm us

So with our free will, we much search for small winds and lights
For the Lord is able to help us, as long as the cause is right
Though we may not see his support in our plights
He is the glass floor that we walk on, the force that lifts our kites

And, if we search deep within our core
If we lay ourselves bare, honest, and raw
Then we can ask for the filter to be lifted a little more
So that we can find our faith just a little more sure

Remember that this is a friendship unlike any other relation
If you speak with faith and without hesitation
You need only to ask, and you will find elevation
And you will move a little closer to your own revelation

The power of winds

Small winds cool us down
Small winds bring embers alive
Small winds give us energy
Small winds make us thrive

Strong winds push us over
Strong winds tear down woods
Strong winds cannot help us
Strong winds must be withstood

Do not think yourself any weaker
If you fear the strong winds of any day
You must let any small winds build you
To prepare for the winds that come our way

The stars don't align

Sometimes, the stars don't align
They almost form a constellation
But somewhere a galaxy intertwined
Leaving them slightly out of formation

It's worse than randomness somehow
Because you see what picture it could be
If there was a small shift fate could allow
Then things would have fallen perfectly

Instead, I guess, appreciate the sky
For all the many wonders the canvas contains
And be grateful that with crossed eyes
You've witnessed other potential refrains 

The sky is fixed on its eternal journey
So all I can do is focus on things that concern me
But that's not to say, nor to demean
That it's fun to focus on what might have been

Music Theory

I wish I knew more about music

I wish I knew why it allowed me to close my eyes and drift away
Or dance through the night and into the next day

I wish I knew why words seemed more powerful with melodic backing
Or even how people train to sing so high without their voice cracking

How is it music can take my mood, and amplify it more?
Why is it that some songs seem part of me, to my core?

Or why it is I love hearing rhymes spoken over strings?
I wish I knew so many things

And yet. And yet.

The romantic in me feels that, while there are answers, it's fine not to know.
The mystery means I'm fully unprepared for where my tastes will go.
I wont listen to a new track and think "what a fantastic chord progression is this"!
Instead I'll sit back and let myself seep into bliss.

It's not to say that one day, particularly if I want to create myself
I wont decide to invest and grab a music theory book from the shelf
Just that, for now, I'm happy not knowing what it is that make music so electrical
To keep the trick a secret, so each new track is magical

The load

Dear Diary,
Today I added to my load
Something to hold on tight to
Maybe I collected a debt I owed
Or bore more just because it felt right to

Dear Diary,
Today I shouldered something more,
Look how much I now possess!
And it's all part of me to my core
I couldn't get by with any less

Dear Diary
Though my load it grows in mass
Though it feel like it is dragging
Is it really so wrong to ask
To add just one more thing

.

Dear Diary
Today. Today I finally let go.
I realised the potential I would not release
Now I only carry regret and woe
That it took so long for my gathering to cease
For the food I held fed many souls
The heat I held warmed many from cold
The money brought some shelter from the rain
The medicine healed those currently in pain
That which I held so rarely made me stronger
So I will do my best to hoard no longer

He is our God!

Let me say some words of worship
Let me say some words of praise
Let me say some words that echo your name
To the end of days
He is our God! 

Because your love is unbounded
Your faith in us often unfounded
Yet you still full us with wonder
With words mightier than thunder
He is our God! 

History has already proclaimed
The greatness of your name
So let us stand without shame
And exclaim a great refrain
He is our God! 

He is our God
He is mighty
He is our God
And we can all see
He is our God! 

He makes us all humble
Supports us when we tumble
He is the one above us all
The one who should be our first call
He is our God!

He is our God!
Oh how great a lover
He is our God!
And there shall never be another
He is our God!

He is our God!
He is our God!
He is our God!
And always will be

***

Written during one of the many worship sessions in which the crowd has to stay silent in the church. I can also see a call and response of "And he loves us" to each "He is our God". That wasn't allowed when I performed it though, so I'm presenting it in this form (it would also require some slight line changes e.g. to the final line in the poem). 

The tram

Sometimes, it feels like I'm stuck on the tram
While everyone else has cars
I'm on my rails, on my path
While they can navigate by the stars

If I want, I can stop
Get out, stretch, see the view
But then it's back inside
Doing the loop I always do

I have days where nothing happens
And the scenery's the same
Then I'm taken a new road
Without reason or aim

And I know it's melodramatic
When I stop, and think, I'm blessed
I know that I'm not stuck
There's nuances I haven't addressed

But some day I hope to look up
Consider how I feel
And be 100% certain
That I'm holding the wheel

Binary Goodbyes

When I was younger, everyone I knew
Could fit, if pushed, inside a classroom at school
Most of those people, I saw every single day
People who were close to me in every single way

Then slowly, my world expanded 
It grew and grew and grew
I never really planned it
But as it grew I said goodbye to people too

Now all the people that I know are stretched all around the world
Some people I'll may see again as fate's path unfurls
But you could ask why do you keep doing this? Making new friends?
Why do you keep persisting in meeting people if you'll just leave them in the end?

Well. God's given me a life and he's given me a lot of love
He's blessed me, invested in me, and that should be enough
But I'm still growing and I'm still showing what it is to be alive
And I'm doing that with the support of many people who make me strive

I strive to be as kind as you, and be reminded of you in the way I act
The physically distant are still encoded in who I am and that's a fact
So even for the sad goodbye for those I may never meet again
I remember from having met you that I will never be the same

But one day, in another world, I would still like everyone to gather
To share with you stories that make you both happier and sadder
Because sharing with distant friends always makes me delighted
Recollecting what we became with the spark you once ignited

And though it is the case our paths lead in different ways
I'm grateful if we shared years, or if we shared days
So let us not focus on goodbyes and time apart
Instead, be thankful for time together that we hold forever in our heart

***

Inspired by 1011010100101000 by Jonny 5 + Yak

Passive Listener

I am not a passive listener
I am not a passive learner
I do not deal well with sitting still
Putting thoughts on the backburner

I want to be a part
Of whatever story you are telling
Even if that's just "uh-huh"s and "yeah"s
And one-off interjecting

If I am not engaged
My thoughts will lose control
If you offer a stray thread
I will unravel it whole

And though my tapestry is enriched
With those threads that weave and turn
That I lose the teller's tale
Is a sadness I actively had to learn

So don't let me be passive
In the truth you're trying to tell
Engage me in your journey
So we can share a tapestry as well

Suzie's Wedding Poem

 Dear Suzie and Kyle

It is tradition, on such a momentous event as today
To honour you with an old and tired cliché
Letting you know that I think the pair of you make the most lovely set
But mainly letting you know that I can use the internet

However. You are a unique special couple and we live in unique special times 
So it would not be fitting to trouble you with overused and overtired rhymes
As an example, a truth that everyone here can hold with us wherever we go
Is that we are utterly certain that we rank within the top 15 to 30 people you know

So as you move from the world of fiancés and spouses-to-be
Into the future of "My partner and me" 
I'm not going to joke about how it's now too late to run
Or how you're going to need permission to go out and have fun

Honestly, I consider it a shame
To refer to a loving partner as "the ol' ball and chain"
Because you seem happy with this choice in life
So, instead, here's a celebration of this new husband and wife

To Kyle, it is an honour to welcome you to the family
To have yet another older brother with hair a different colour to me
I welcome your jokes and your good humour too
I look forward to making future memories with you

To Suzie. Ah Suzie, special sister of mine.
Here's a one-time apology for all the many times I was an irritating younger brother and made you whine
I'm thankful for the creativity we've shared with each other
Genuinely, Suzie, I am thankful to be your brother

To the both of you, I wish you more than just a fantastic day
I wish you the strength to support each other over any hardships that come your way
Be unashamedly in love all future years
Reinforce each others' hopes, tackle each others' fears

Be loving and open, as I know you can be
Best wishes from me and the rest of the family
Share love. Share adventures. Always, share a smile.
As you go forth from this day as one pair, as Suzie and Kyle

Unironically Woke

Here is a statement that might confuse some folk
I, unironically, will call myself woke
And I'm not being performative or hiding schemes
I just believe in what the word actually means

Being "woke" seems like classic young person slang
It's lit, it's peng, you get me fam?
And it is a hip word, I know that's true
But being woke is an important concept too

It captures an idea we've needed for a while
And what "woke" represents hopefully wont go out of style
It's an awareness, alertness, to injustices on Earth
An awareness of privilege you've had since birth

But, because the word is non-white in origin
It's mocked by those who are lacking in melanin
Not realising that their aversion to this aspect of black speech
Is exactly why wokeness is an important mindstate to reach

Because the extra barriers to serious discussions
Around wokeness have big repercussions
We'd rather not discuss the impact of colonialism today
So instead we'll focus on how woke is a funny word to say

If this is you, I'd ask you to take a step back
Focus on the idea, ignore that the word is black
Try to ignore the ad hominems that are so easy to tell
And ask yourself honestly if you might be woke as well 

Web of friendship

Don't lose touch
But do loosen grip
Let your clutch
Slide but not slip

You are a web
Of elastic strings
Each one can ebb
Each resonance sings

Cast wide your net
For diverse returning
The more give you let
The greater the earning

You will pick harvest
From miles beyond
No better invest
Than a stronger bond

In Avalon

He lies waiting in restful Avalon
Noble Arthur, the once and always King
Awaiting his final majestic quest
To save this land when its need is greatest
To again rise and grasp Excalibur

So why, my friend, did we not see his steed
Memorialised in the weave of Hastings

He did not rise to fight for either rose
When the most noble north was torn in two

Cromwell did not face the round table's ire
When the line of kings fell before his might

And when German bombers lit up the sky
They were not felled by the lake lady's sword

Some take this to mean Arthur does not wait
He died a mighty but still mortal man
I shiver instead that he does still lie
And waits for a danger beyond his strength
Leaving us without the hope of legend

Slanted Walk

I took a peek outside my door
To a street I thought I'd seen before
Yet my memory is unsure
Small things are impure
Still, to adventure!
Up, you curs
Step forward hims theys and hers
No time to be adverse
Or be fearing the hearse
Things could be worse
As the road still curves
Don't trip on curbs
Or be perturbed
Your echo reverbs
Over weed and herbs
Yet, madams and sirs
We always respond to lures
The small similarity endures
Familiar feelings soon ensure
You forget differences from before
And return to your well known door

On Personification

Let me lay a couple lines about personification
Granting the innate some living characterization
A grand poetic gesture giving insight into creation
That actual people callously disregard without hesitation

A tree will always stand tall to provide shade for the weary
But our mentors will have off days to be quietly teary
Stones will represent the hardest of human hearts in the wild
Yet will not erode in seconds from the touch of a young child

The ambitious sky will stretch on to countless infinites
Which humans circle in a day while watching mini TVs
A beck will spring life eternally, whistling a beautiful tune
Whereas creatives need time for tea and biscuits each afternoon

The moon, they are ever changing, but in a smooth and gradual way
People can stay the same for years, then have two epiphanies in a day
Personification are beautiful, and can be viewed as true when
You accept the inconsistency that resides in every human 

Bubbles

the beautiful bubble is born

it bounds it bobbles it bounces

but by being its best it

Bursts

some second simple suds

structured as spherical soapy shell

stretch and strain suddenly it

Snaps

enter an enthusiastic extra

even though each is ephemeral

exuding elegance ere it

Erupts

perhaps pursuing persistence

permitting the punishing product

of perfection it promptly

Pops

a last lump of liquid light

lovingly leaps into limited life

it leads a lucky lot as it

.

lands

In the online version, I have an image here displaying how I'd like this poem to look if I were a better artist. This is partially to test whether it'll automatically post the image to Facebook, but also because I enjoy my bad artwork. :)

Gatekeeper

Oh, gatekeeper,
Who are you protecting?
Oh, gatekeeper,
Please don't pretend
Oh, gatekeeper,
What is it you're stopping?
...
What is your end?

Now I don't mean to retell a story you've heard before dear listener
I'm sure you've all heard many a tale of the noble gatekeeper
They who earnestly seek to preserve a label or community
Not trying to be exclusive, encouraging new members earnestly

No, dear listener, I instead speak instead of another.
One who is a bitter and overly-jealous lover.
One so infatuated they become resistant to change.
Forbidding entry to anyone who isn't "their type of strange". 

Oh, gatekeeper,
Who are you protecting?
Oh, gatekeeper,
Please don't pretend
Oh, gatekeeper,
What is it you're stopping?
...
What is your end?

I'm sure you know the type -"You're not a real fan"
Or even "You're not a real woman", "You're not a real man"
Unless you prescribe to their certain type of notion
There's no way you can match their level of devotion

Always be careful with this type of entity
One whose gatekeeping has become their identity
So it's all or nothing, no room for deviation
Or they'll label you a flake without hesitation

Oh, gatekeeper,
Who are you protecting?
Oh, gatekeeper,
Please don't pretend
Oh, gatekeeper,
What is it you're stopping?
...
What is your end?

Oh, gatekeeper, I've been like you before
Loving something some much I closed tight the door
But that thing you love, that way you live so religiously?
It'll still be the same even if others do it differently

Oh, gatekeeper, I know you're protecting what you love from hate
But, dear gatekeeper, don't forget what a joy it is to open that gate
To see someone, slowly, come to love a thing totally new
Maybe they'll even evolve to love it in the same way as you

Oh, gatekeeper, you must allow this thing to independently grow
Even, one day, into something that you no longer know
All things end, so why not choose to become a foundation?
Rather than cast aside, become the welcoming gate of a new infatuation

Tommy's words

 Let me tell you a tale, if you'll allow me the time
I'll tell it with flair, I'll tell it in rhyme!
A tale of a fellow in a difficult scrape
A tale of a fellow with an uncertain fate

Known as Thomas, Tommy boy, or Tom
Who realised one day that his words were the bomb
That he could, with a mere uttering of sound
Blow someone away in a way most profound

(He was reckless, our Tom, it was always his undoing
It didn't matter if it was money or a girl he was wooing
Once he figured out a rule he'd set it in stone
Forgetting any other life lesson he'd known)

So Tommy went to bars, and Tommy plied a trade
Displaying his words and leaving victims dismayed
For his golden voice could often sooth a fighter
Or charm someone to leaving with their pockets lighter

But one day the day came, as it would always do
When Tommy would have to pay his due
His friends gathered round, sensing the hour
That Tommy would pay for his gathering of power

Would he be bested by some superior words?
To strike Tommy boy until he was interred?
Perhaps someone who couldn't hear at all?
Leaving Tommy exposed and bound to fall?

Well, these were good guesses, but all missed the mark
For it was Tommy himself who would light the spark
For he had engaged in a battle of phrases
With someone who only wanted to sing Tom's praises

"I've the best lexicon, no one could ever match me
There's no limits to what my words would allow me to be!"

    "You're very right, dear Tom. You speak the truth!"
    "You could do the profession of everyone under this roof!"

"Of course I could, for the world is just lines
And I've got the best, so I'd be just fine!"

As he spoke, Tom gestured strongly
Although maybe I should say he gestured wrongly
See Tom didn't notice as one hand knocked over a candle
Because his other hit his firefighter friend with a tankard handle

The fire took hold, and like Tom's words they spread
And while Tommy turned his tail and fled
Turning only once he was on safe ground
He realised his friends were no where to be found

Tom stood rooted, coming to terms with the bravery he lacked
He tried to aid once or twice, but just as quickly backtracked
When his comrades emerged he celebrated without refrain
A euphoric moment, despite the concussion obtained

But later, when they would come together again
They would remember that evening, they'd remember when
Tommy boy was unable to live up to the reputation he'd built
For though the right words can have a gorgeous lilt

Do not forget, dear reader, what gives words their power
What makes them more than a light sonorous shower
What gives stories the morals and poetry its appeal
It is our actions, my friend, that make our words real

Sunlight

Sunlight splashed lazily on fertile ground
With warm golden rays painting the soil
Look! Look! I don't know if you can see it
We can start to see strange sprouts emerging

Good feelings are beginning to blossom
Born from pre-sewn seeds of optimism
Flowering into sweet unbridled joy
To all who venture into its aura

Braille

Two dots wide by three dots high
A six dot block known as a cell
A cool little trick to encode 'u' and 'i'
But also, well, also the entirety of an alphabet along with the rest of human literature as well. 

Even though there's only 64 things that a cell can say
Together they were the facts and they were the fiction
A means of access to the culture of the day
Once the only lifeline for those with low vision

How odd it is, such a wonderous invention
Was, like sadly many things, born of war
Derived from Napoleonic means of night communication
Though rejected for being too complex at it's core

Step up Louis Braille, who took it, improved it
And then three years late, at age 15
Took the first Braille alphabet, and used it
To allow him access to a world he'd never seen

And though now Screen Readers have taken hold
I hope that Braille will still not be forgot
There is such beauty in the simple embedding of old
In which different worlds are encoded inside each little dot

***

I couldn't find a way to sneak it in, but it's apparently 200 years since the meeting between Charles Barbier (inventor of night writing) and the young Louis Braille in 1821 at the Paris institute for the blind.

Laughter

I adore how many words the Greeks had for love
To recognise how expansive a concept it can be
From selfless Agape to passionate Eros
Ludos for the flirtatious and Philia for the friendly

We lose touch with those things we cannot express
To generalize something can be to cause its un-birth
Think, for instance, how easily we can lose touch
With how many types of laughter exist on this Earth 

So let's remember the sensible chuckle
For a silly quip that's fun and never too mean
The belly laugh from the man in the pub
At a punchline that was certainly not clean

The uncontrolled giggle from a gaggle of schoolgirls
Planning drama and antics for the day ahead
The infectious yet confident cackle 
From a viral joke that can't help but spread

Do not forget the nervous snicker
That can act as a valve on unbearable tension
Or the guffaw of a cheeky father
Who told some wordplay of his own invention

There is cruel laughter, there is kind laugher
Yet we often think of it all as one
Squashing dark humour into innuendos
Wrapping it all up together with puns

It seems ridiculous, doesn't it?
When you think of all the laughter you've heard
But it's impossible to keep it suppressed
Because laughter is far more than just a word

Travelling Alone

Travelling alone can be great to unwind
A tranquil delight, an utter joy
A chance to reflect, to clear your mind
What a privilege, for any boy!

*cough*

I write that latter line with a lot of regret
I wish my words could be more inclusive
But when I stop to listen and to reflect
A collective philosophy becomes elusive

And fellas, I'm not saying we walk without fear
When we venture late into an unknown place
But the scale of the problem matters here
And how often it's a problem we have to face

"But I'm not the problem" you say with pride
"I'm an exception", and that may be true
The issue is enough men have lied
That they don't know if they can trust you

Or me. I need to consider if I'm part of this.
If I've contributed to this atmosphere.
Through missing warnings or making ignorant quips
Because you know what's to blame for this fear?

Not people going out alone or dressing a certain way
Those shouldn't be things that lead to danger
And if I want to believe that the truth of a future day
I need to make sure I'm a better friend than stranger

Because, without realising it, I have more freedom
Based on, among other things, being male
And I don't know if there are past things I could have done
If I had a chance to rewrite any sad tale

But, well, I look at stories and stats as well
How it portrays a world I just don't know
So, if I believe the stories that my friends tell
There's only one way this reflection of mine could go

Fellow men, I'd simple ask you to reflect too
Especially if these words seem unfamiliar or strange
For whether this due to the actions of many or few 
We need to do whatever we can to help things change

***
***

Written in response to many things, but particularly dedicated to Sarah Everard 

Free versE

Let me write without structure

or rhyme
or insight

This is my free verse

and iT wiLL BE FREE!!

Formed through love and chaos

    with a dash of tiredness

"Free the verse!"

We will chant, with some prominent personalities joining our the cause de jour
Not understanding what we're asking for, but with heart in the right place

Too long have we been held under this rule of meter
Until our verse is free, our minds are not
So restricting is the page on which we write!

Some surgeon poets insist we must carve every line
Not realising the scalpel pen they use is still a tool of butchery!
Carefully controlling which parts of themselves are allowed to bleed onto the page

Be vulnerable and open, poets of tomorrow!!!
Un-couplet yourselves from these shackles

Tell this story in whatever form you can
and forget every cast you have poured your molten ideas into before

Who. Cares. If the form is hard to read
        as long as it is honest
        as long as it is genuine

You will know if the pause is right
And whether the correct word is left
We are winged wordweavers 

    and we are 

    out 

    of 

    our 

    cage!

A restful quiet

...

...

...It was quiet
But in a restful way

...Not a full rest
Just comfortable

...

...Every thing is
"Not right now"

...Deeper breathing
Inhale. . .Exhale

...

...Muffled silence
With mind-fog shield

...Nothing forced
Simply accepted

...

...A tiny smile
For the peace achieved

...It was quiet
But in a restful way

...

...

UK research

UK research? It isn't really a thing
At least, not in the way you're probably thinking
Nor in the way certain politicians like to portray
When they talk about UK research leading the way

So why does the phrase "UK research" leave me irked?
Well, when I consider all the different departments I've worked
I reflect on the wonderful diversity of colleagues of mine
Which collectively create the research these politicians find

While we have our biases, and we need to do better in many ways
There are men and women, old and young, straights and gays
But, importantly for this point I'm trying to probe
I've known wonderful people from all over the globe

Who all contribute, with different background and philosophies
Each adding different drops of water to the academic seas
Collaborating, discussing, debating, preaching
Helping us make leaps for things we'd never otherwise be reaching!

I will give credit, for the many UK-based funds and grants
That work in tandem with others to help our work advance
But here's the ground truth in case you haven't realised it before
The reason UK research is so good is because it stretches beyond our shore

Glass

You may be glass
    But glass is stronger than you think

We were taught glass is fragile
We all have seen it break
 
You see yourself being fragile
You know how easily you break

But glass is also strong
In many different forms
In many different ways

It is hard to compress
It is hard to stretch
It is also beautiful

You may be glass
       But you are stronger than you think

The Perfect Brothers

The brothers wished to be perfect
Thomas, Tommy and Tom
Unlike most of us, they got their wish
And so their problems begun

***

Thomas was the eldest of the three
He was perfect, but also proud our Thomas
So he sought the company of a perfect partner
And frankly he would accept nothing less

So he searched and he searched
Able to woo any person he met
Successful every time with the perfect line
But he hasn't found romance yet

All he encountered were the rest of us schmucks
Flawed in almost every way
Blessed with perfect persistence, Thomas continued his quest
And continues in fact to this day

***

Tommy was fun, the middle kid
Always the most popular in a crowd
Enjoyed a laugh or battle of wits
Would seek any attention he was allowed

Soon he found himself the alpha
With people laughing at his every quip
No battle of wits was a challenge
No listener's attention would ever slip

Tommy soon came to realise
That his old tricks had lost their thrill
When you're guaranteed perfection
The craftwork needs no skill

***

Tom was the youngest in many ways
He followed Thomas and Tommy
He saw their highs, and then their lows
And thought "So what's the solution before me?"

Thomas searched for someone else
Who could match up to who he now was
Tommy struggled to adjust
To people who would cheer him, just because

Tom thought long, Tom thought hard
How can a perfect person find purpose?
What is a life without our flaws?
Am I doomed like dear Tommy and Thomas?

***

Tommy and Thomas opened the old classroom door
Seeing Tom for the first time in years
Trying not to interfere with the lecture
They took a seat and opened their ears

"Remember, teachers of the future
Why it is we do what we do
Yes, you improve by teaching others
That is certainly true"

"Yet even the master, with nothing to learn
Can find joy in helping another in their path
It can be frustrating, it may be slow
Watching them take one step, then back another half"

"You must put your trust in their progress
Though I know that is a scary thing
To let them falter as they learn to walk
To hear them stammer as they begin to sing"

"One day, on a distant wonderful day
You will realise they have become your peer
Then, celebrate and rest.
 For a new student will soon appear"

Tom dismissed the class, walked to the back
Took both his brothers in his reach
"Welcome dear brothers, new students
Do not worry, let me begin to teach"


***
***
***

This was inspired by a writing prompt at https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/lav9pu/wp_perfection_is_boring_you_never_thought_much/, about a person being granter their wish to be perfect. I tried to reflect on what a perfect being could do to find purpose. And I wanted to write about how a perfect being could interact with imperfect people. The first brother seeks an equal, something impossible in the circumstance. The second seeks superiority through competition, which one would surely find lacking. The final realises seeks to elevate others, which I found the most fulfilling of options.

You are still worthy

Here is a great secret, if you promise not to tell
A secret that They Who Know guard very well
One which is counter to all the lies they feed
An antidote for the pressure that make us want to recede

You, yes you, don't have to be an extraordinary individual
Even if you don't end up being an athlete or intellectual
You are still worthy of love, of compassion, of kindness
You are a human. You are flawed and you are blessed.

You have the potential to do earth-shattering things
To shape the future that the universe brings
One day you may end up soaring through the stars
Maybe you'll write a best seller or design self-driving cars 

But maybe you don't want to. Maybe that fills you with stress.
Well, if that is the case, don't let that fill you with duress.
Don't give in to the dissatisfaction they want you to invent
If living a simple life would otherwise make you content

We need staple foods in life as much as we need treats
We need simple forest paths and old cobbled streets
We need a "how are you" as much as lectures and prose
You are still worthy, no matter where you life goes

You can be extraordinary. If you want to. That fact is still true.
But the more radical thing is that you are worthy, just by being You.

Extras

In some stories, there are extras in the scene

People on the side who flicker in and out

There to fill out the background of the screen

Doing there own thing, just walking about

If they're good extras, they react to events

Show the opportunity or danger of a situation

Acting without any sort of pretence

To allow you time for pause and hesitation

But here's the thing, life doesn't work like that

In real life, the rules of the screen fall flat

People don't behave in the way their supposed to

Of course, that rule is true for you too

So take a second and recognise the extras in your story

And think to yourself "they are not there for me"

They've got their own hopes and ambitions and dreams

That cause them to react with their cheers or screams

So make sure you acknowledge them as the people they are

Even if your interaction is brief and doesn't take you far

Maybe they'll become a more major character to you

And realise that you are not just an extra in their story too.

Post for new readers

Hi! Welcome to my poetry blog friend.

In 2013 I made a new year's resolution to write a poem a week. Because I'm bad at quitting things, I'm still going. This has lead to me having too many poems.

So, here's a suggestion of a few cool poems to read. I also have a "10 best" post I do at the end of each year, so if you like these then that's a cool place to look next (search the "End of Year" tag). :)

If you ever want to hear an audio version of any poems, I'm slowly recording them over at https://anchor.fm/dashboard. Alternatively, I'm always happy to do a performance for people.

Also, if you ever have any questions or thoughts about any poem, no matter how old, then I love to be messaged to chat about them. I have lots of others I enjoy, and I am always happy to perform a recording of a poem for anyone. But these are the some that I figure serve as a good introduction to my work (and aren't overly long). Hope you enjoy them!

A short and sweet poem about poetic inspiration - Poem Catcher
A poem expressing my amazement for my bilingual friends - Another Tongue

A poem about personal bravery - Brave

A poem about the hectic pace we tend to approach life - Is Life a Race or a Dance?
A poem about the beauty in weirdness (and one of my first poems!) - Monsters
A poem about enjoying the moment - If Today

We've been through hardship before

We've been through hardship before,
        as humans, I mean.

I know some, well, maybe most of it was self-inflicted
        but there's still goodness to glean

In some of the plagues of days gone by
        we survived by sacrifice

Villages working for a collective good
        through an elder's advice

In times of war, we banded together
        the young volunteered their future

The smartest gals and guys we knew
        invented things like the computer

So now, in present day, just look around
        take note of what you see

The long hours. The struggle to succeed.
        all to help all of humanity

The nurses, the shopworkers, the careworkers    
        more professions than I can go through

As well as every person who has stayed safe and distant
        it's thanks to you too!

And I know it's tiring, that you have fatigue
        when you forget what it's all for

Just know that, eventually, we will succeed
        just like with the hardship before

Audio Mission Statement

So, here we go again. Another mission statement. The audio version of this statement (along with the rest of the podcasts) can be found at anchor.fm/harryisapoet, or on spotify.

Here's the quick version - I'm planning on trying to record my whole back catalogue on a semi-regular basis as a podcast. Probably one/two a week - I'll update this once I get going and figure things out.

I've been wanting to do this for a while. After all, if I have a choice of performing one of my poems for someone or sending them a written link, I'll pick performing every time. And this was less work than making them videos (which is still a future aim).

So, here we go. Another poetry adventure. I'll still be writing a fresh weekly poems  over at harryisapoet.blogspot.com. I've also made a facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/harryisapoet/) that will automatically post my new written poems, and hopefully will be set up to post my new podcast too.

A small extra note. For the next podcasts, I will record the poem, then I'll add any extra thoughts/context at the end. Some small insight into how I was feeling, or any way I would differ in approaching the subject now. In this statement though, it feels right to end again with (a slightly abridged version of the) Ira Glass quote that helped start me on this journey way back in January 2013.

"Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through."

Statement over. If you're still with me, I look forward to the journey over the coming weeks.

Signed,
A somehow still naïve Harry, who is now a little more certain than seven years ago that he can call himself a poet.

The Difficulty of Not Putting Off Important Tasks

Past the point of pontification

He holds in his heart no hesitation

STRIKE! STRIKE NOW!

Ready he's ready to begin flexion

Finally found his focus and fixation

DO IT! DO! IT!

More time has tumbled to this decision

He has to act to avoid any derision

SO CLOSE!

Almost there it's tantalising ambition

The fates decree this is the end to his mission

...

He can't do it. Thwarted once more.

The cost of this loss shakes him to his core.

He shakes his head, closes the laptop, and walks away.

Falsely convincing himself he'll click "send" on that email another day.

Resisting Apathy

It's odd what happens, when shocking images are paraded before us

Don't get me wrong, initially there's no way they bore us
We feel all the emotions a human should feel

We are shocked and mortified, our sadness is real

Life is depressing, we lose faith in humanity

Questions rise regarding our planet's sanity

Even though we know the validity of these horrors to be correct

We push them to one side and build a disconnect

We don't let ourselves dwell, and move subtly on

Forgetting these kids were all daughters and sons

It would traumatise us, if we were to constantly dwell

On one of those times humanity turned Earth into Hell

And yet, we find the world still spins

We've paid our dues and move on with things

"It's not right, but what do you want us to do?

They've already lost their lives should we lose our minds too?"

We've forgotten, moved on, ready to be shocked the next time

We decide to relearn of humanity's crimes

Relearn how the world became bitter and frayed

Relearn of the sacrifice so many had made

But a similar struggle exists for many today

Even if we stop watching, atrocities don't go away

We still find ourselves far from a united Earth

We've still committing atrocities over resources and turf

It's tough, but you can't let the reaction of apathy tie you down

You can't just walk away, even if you walk wearing a frown

You see, though you walk away, there's millions who were unable

So you ahve to remember this as more than a fable

Avoid hyperbole - remember the trauma that was actually there

It's your duty to do more than briefly show you care

Be aware of what happened, hold it close in your heart as

motivation for those who became unwilling martyrs

Live a life stronger, as a voice for the voiceless

You can make decisions, fate is not choiceless

There is more than just the façade humanity likes to portray

We are not yet at peace, we can fight for that day

History books of the future will tell the present's tale

About how we reacted, and on what scale

Did we take heed? Did we try to learn?

Did we step back to help the world burn?

Or did we take steps we haven't taken before

And say that, finally, we will take this no more

We are more the same than different, all human this day

Let's finally change, and not walk away.

***

This was an old poem I found, reflecting on how we all seem to care about to Holocaust for a couple choice days a year and then forget things. Since it wasn't on here, I wanted to make sure I recorded it (with some very light editing). So, here it is for posterity.

The poetry grind

I've been on this grind for quite a while
And you know what? It still makes me smile

You'd think after so many words and lines
I'd be sick of the thought of repeated rhymes

Yet, I'm pleased to say, for what it's worth
I'm still finding new poems to which to give birth

I'm still finding out new things about my self
Still working hard on that eternal wealth

I wont pretend it's easy, that the lines always flow
Or that every week tells me something I don't know

Sometimes it's hard, and I'm not that proud
But it's worth it for the poems I want to shout loud

So here's to another year of poems I'll find
Here's to (at least) one more year on the poetry grind.