Puzzle

The puzzle starts blank
Without a single mark
Just a few stray clues
To lead you from the dark

It seems impossible
But also almost freeing
Each step is progress
A solution that's revealing

And then you hit the wall
You can't progress at all
An intimidating page
That tries to give you rage
The challenge is right here
Can you persevere?

Sometimes it's all at once
Sometimes step by gruelling step
But eventually you''re past
And you feel a little pep

At this point, it's just energy
To fill in every space
You can take it slowly
You can try to race

But eventually, you stop
And the dopamine will come
The once blank puzzle
Is finally, now, done

Authentic

it's hard to be authentic
it's hard to be really you
so when you start to write your tale
you wonder what is true

your first idea?
it could be gold
or simply the sum
of all society has tried to mould

I want to improve
I want to get better
but that means changing
adapting my letter

be authentic
even if it means you're wrong
be yourself
even if it's not a pretty song

find the story on you can tell
and the way only you can tell it
if you can, you have to try
it's the challenge in being authentic

wrong words

your words in life don't always come across how you want them too 
this is one of life's sad facts you're just going to have to battle through

all you can do, is try to make up for where you went wrong
you can't take away words that were put where they don't belong

but you can try your best at setting things right
even if real forgiveness feels far out of sight

apologise, earnestly. try not to reason your way out
you've said those words and now they're roaming about 

and you can't go back to how things were before
all you can do is learn to not say those words any more

Dear Harry

Dear Harry,

You've been being hard on him again, haven't you?
On that self you often try to dissociate from
So that you can try to justify the pressure

Be kind to him, please
You know he's more fragile than he likes to admit
He's strong, but only in certain ways

If you do this enough he'll think he's a burden
Then he'll become anxious and overthink things
And not in the way he's supposed to overthink things

Give him time. Or a deadline if you have to
Set him goals and encourage his ambitions
Let him figure out how to fail correctly

Remember that he doesn't know his potential, nor do you
That good things come from unplanned places
That life is not a race, but an adventure

Do things with love
Including, but not limited to
Helping him through the rough patches in life

He needs your help
It's good to reflect
But remember the reflection can only see so far

So, don't be too hard on him
Please
For Us

Love,
Harry

Run down

When I'm run down, I feel the cold more easily
When I'm run down, I tend to get ill
When I'm run down, I overthink things more
When I'm run down, the world seems against me

But sleep doesn't solve it
I never have any issue sleeping
But it's the misalignment with the world
The sense that I'm clashing in my tempo

I'm used to playing my own rhythm
But then it's as a harmony
Whereas now I'm in a dance
Where everyone but me knows the steps

Sometimes I can fix it be being hydrated
Or by taking some true rest
Most times though, I'm a human and not an algorithm
And there's no quick fix - just gradual healing over time

For Will and Laura

It is a great pleasure to have childhood friends
To have shared so many years in places that now seem so small
Friend's homes, old classrooms, even older football pitches
And the paths we walked (or cycled) together that connected them all

If you get to know someone when they are young
It is as if you are witnessing the start of a melody
The opening strings of a crescendo to that will one day come
Lyrics, that now sadly, echo only in memory

But then, you get to be a witness
To their life, their music, and their journey
Until one day the song sounds even more beautiful
As you realise it's turned into a harmony

Will, you were already playing an incredible tune
I felt so lucky to get to listen along
But Laura, you add to him, and he adds to you
And I think everyone here can attest, you both make such a wonderful song

So, I ask you both, do not be silent with your chorus
Be uniquely yourselves when you stand before us
It's time to play your parts together, and play them true
Are you ready? I'll count you in. One, two...

***

(Many thanks to the person who wished to go uncredited for translating this poem into Spanish for some of the Wedding guests, this was really cool to see!)

Es un enorme placer tener amigos de la infancia
Haber compartido años en lugares que ahora parecen tan pequeños
Las casas, las aulas, los campos de fútbol
Y los caminos que caminamos juntos (o en bicicleta) y que los unían a todos 

Si conoces a alguien de joven
Es como si presenciaras el comienzo de una melodía
Las primeras cuerdas de un crescendo que está por llegar.
Letras que ahora sólo resuenan en la memoria.

Más en adelante en la vida, se llega a ser testigo
De lo que sólo puede considerarse un viaje increíble
Hasta que te das cuenta de que la música cantada
Es mucho más hermosa como una armonía

Will, tú ya tocabas una melodía increíble.
Me sentí muy afortunado de poder escucharla.
Pero Laura, tú le añades a él, y él te añade a ti.
Juntos, hacéis una canción maravillosa.

Así que, os lo pido a los dos, no os quedéis callados con vuestro canto.
Sed vosotros mismos cuando estéis ante nosotros.
Haced vuestro papel, y hacedlo de verdad.
¿Están listos? Uno, dos...

how you view the future

the future is a strange place
they do things differently there
do you find it fills you with fear?
it is it too far away for you to care

it can depend on the scale of time
what tasks lay right before you
in general, when I was younger
the future was something to look forward to

but then I met some folk
for whom the future was full of doubt
the present is a tricky place
and they weren't sure they'd make it out

I realised that approaching time
can't just be taken as given
that life will pass you by
if you forget it's somewhere to live in

the future seems more uncertain
and it's getting closer all the time
I'll deal with it the only day I know
... I'll try to capture it in rhyme 

Delete Key

How much do you rely on your delete key
To be able to construct your thoughts completely
Knowing you can go back, change a letter
Rewrite your words so that they seem better

What if, for a while, you took it away?
Went full typewriter for an hour each day?
So you had to commit to every new line
Even if it irked and didn't seem fine

I think you'd go slow,
Take a little more care
Even in your flow,
You'd be a lot more aware
About the value inherent,
Of each word you chose
Of the decisions present,
In forming your prose

Don't let your mistakes fill you with shame
Embrace your successes and failures the same
Life is cleaner, but a little less complete
When we rely too heavily on what we delete

Jesus in Palestine

What if Jesus were born again, but He was born in Palestine?
He was born among the bombs, He was born among the mines?
He was born in the rubble where a hospital used to stand?
What then would become of the second son of Man? 

Would He be baptised in a river filled with lead
Would He grow malnourished until he learned to break the bread
Would He grow up with His parents or have surrogates instead
Would He grow up knowing death until he learned to revive the dead 

And what if He still said:

"What you do to the least of my brother's you also do to Me"
What would He think of how we treat the land that does not stretch to sea
What of all the other babies still born there every year
Who face all these problems and grow up filled with fear

All of this to wonder, in this most pressing time
What would Jesus do if he came again to Palestine

The forge

A working forge is a sight to behold
It blazes with a heat hot enough to mould
Take the material, and with enough skill
It can bend to form the forgemaster's will

What then, of a forge that's gone cold?
No more mastery or feats to behold
Ashen memories of what used to be
Scuff marks and battles and old cups of tea

It's not too much work to keep a forge going
Add in some fuel if you see the fire slowing
But an empty forge that's heated no more?
It's just a record of what has come before

Unless, unless, with great effort and fight
A master returns, along with a light

Politely Burnt Out

I don't have a way
To politely say
I'd love to
But then I'll struggle to get out of bed tomorrow

Right now
I know not how
My battery
Only goes between zero and around thirty

If you request
When I'm my best
I would do it
And I could shift around my plans if needed

But today
Is not that day
All I can do
Is just enough

Second memories

You only get so many seconds
And from those seconds
You only get so many memories

If you don't hold on
A precious one might slip away
Never to be recalled

If you stop using your seconds
Let them flutter by
You'll never make any more

Memories.
They are our history.
Our currency of experience.

Love what you have already made.
Keep your mind rich.
Use your seconds well.

Home, but new

Welcome to your new world!

Please leave your free time at the door for a short while
Because you will have admin and organisation
Staring you
In the face
Every time you walk in
For at least the next week.

You can't do it all at once.

So, what do you value?
What are your real priorities?

What bills do you sort first?
What groceries do you carry on your first shop?
Which furniture do your arrange your room around?
Which bags and boxes do you leave unpacked for the first few days?

It's a real jolt to the veins
Realising that you need this but can do some days without that
Honestly, it might be healthy to not have internet a short while
But one day of sleeping on a ground mattress will motivate you to build a bed

For me? I needed cereal, milk, bread, and bovril
Electricity and water - anything else is a luxury
I made sure the desk stayed in the corner of the room
To not become my whole life, please.

Each task done is another bit of my brain that's now free
Free to plan cleaning or explore living in a new city
To adjust to new working and relaxing conditions
And figure out if I'm comfortable with visitors yet

Then, one day, you'll look up
Realise there's nothing urgent to do
And finally
Call this new world
Home

From the brink of extinction

I've been known to talk of sadness
About darkness humans hold inside
We can often share in madness
A mania believed far and wide

We humans do despicable deeds
And honestly, I don't know why
We can sew destructive seeds
Which later blot out the sky

It's....a lot, sometimes

But I wish to talk of hope
Of great effort over time
Provide a little soap
To wash away the grime

Humans can do despicable things
But also great things too
There's a power that persistence brings
A power that also belongs to you

It takes a lifetime of trying
And hard study of conservation
But we can stop people dying
Or save animals through preservation

I've known many educators
Passing knowledge through generations
Others who are innovators
Preserving cultures across nations

Nothing is gone until we stop trying
There is a world between dead and dying
And some humans may wonder why we're crying
About the "bright future" we insist on defying

It's because, well, there is more to Earth than the present
We share this planet with the future and the past
There is beauty to witness beyond what mere humans can invent
And it would be a shame if we were the last

Universal Chargers

Maybe, just maybe, technology has spoiled us
And, no, not in the way you may have thought
I’m thinking of when we all hopped on the USB bus
And managed to successfully get a standard port

This was great, well, for technology
A single thing to charge every device
But I think we owe an apology
For every human that tried to take this advice

Humans are weird
Our batteries are not replaceable triple A
We tend to make odd connections
And recharge in a very different way

Some recharge in nature
Others need the bustle of a city
A few can only ever charge alone
But don’t consider it a pity

Music is common to many
But even then, it’s a different tune
I know some who don’t have any
Still searching every mountain and dune

Exercise, food, even construction
Can build up the energy to recover
Yet too many now face an obstruction
Because they rejuvenate unlike any other

Convenience is great, but comes at a cost
Yet as life grows larger and larger
I think we are a richer society
If we make space for each type of charger 

Advice

I enjoy when friends ask me for advice
That they look at all my years
All my screws up and success
And feel, on balance, I might say something to help

It feels nice to be trusted in that way
Even if I feel it can be unearned
Sure, failure is the key to success
But I'm still a few failures away myself

I'll embrace it though
Give a caveat of "check with someone else too"
But I'll treasure their confidence
I'll do the best I can

What is my best? It's simply this.
It is just an ear to listen
A shoulder to lean on
And a reassurance that their hardship is real

Often it's not the words you say
It's that there is someone else to say things to them

Tales of the past

Let me tell you a tale we've all told in the past
Let me sing of a sail with a sign on the mast
I used to venture out into uncharted water
But I feel like I never got as far as I oughta

I used to love adventure, until I lost my energy
I used to love making friends until I found an enemy
We record our epics in empty white pages
More concerned with safety and 9-to-5 wages

We ain't bored of the bard we're just stuck in one place
We're not mourning our past we've just run out our race
Yet the itch to explore is still burning inside
The need to proceed in a world which is wide

Let me tell you a tale that I want to be true
That it's never too late to set sail someplace new
That the strength in our bones will remain through the years
That we're stronger than fright and we're stronger than fears

And it might be folly or foolish for folk in their fall
To have hope for a rope to re-find a new call
So before we all end telling tales in a bar
Let us take one more step to find out who we are

Not just roots

One thing I think we often forget, is that roots are not there to keep us in place
They’re there to help us grow.

They are not just strands to connect us to our past
They are the base from which we create
They are the nutrients that build new branches
They are foundation

Sometimes, we have to put some roots in bad places
And the root is just telling us not to grow in that direction!
Roots can be twisted and gnarled
And it can be very special when someone shares their hidden roots with us

My friend you are more than your roots
You are your bark and your branch
And your birds and your leaves
And your fruits, which give so much joy to others

Do not let your roots constrain what you can do
Be the grand tree you were always meant to be

***

Thanks to York Lit Review for the prompt of Roots

Recycling

We're recycling our recycling
We're reusing it again
We're pretending when inventing
We have made a new refrain

But you've heard it before
There's an echo in mind
If you search book and law
There's carbon copies to find

And yet, and yet,
There will be detail in the blur
If you really search I bet
There's some uniqueness to infer

Either in the manner of creation
Or in the angle of elevation
If you truly made it, truly you
There's a part that's solely your view

Learn to grow that little speck
Learn to let the "you" infect
And then the thought you profess
Will still be recycled, but a little less

When I pass

I know that one day my time on this Earth will be done.
I will have lived and loved and been someone.
A life will be lived, and maybe lived well.
That aspect, I guess, time will tell.

There will be some things I don't get to choose.
Which family I keep, which friends I lose.
The reason I have to depart this mortal plane.
Whether my athleticism began to wain.

But, well, I can hope for some things.
I hope for strength to fight what fate brings.
I will have regrets. I hope none too severe.
I hope I finally accept my limited time here.

But mostly, on that day when I finally depart
I wish to make sure I am at peace in my heart
That I don't hold hate in too great a place
And that I shall pass, one day, with love on my face

Art Instantly

The thing that's missing from art in a button
Is the sweat that forms on a brow
The bead of salt and stress
That never bled into the canvas
Never quite mixed with the oils
But shaded the tones of the artist
Skewed the perfect vision
And required fortitude to overcome

It makes the next brushstroke
Come out a little crooked

Either destroying the painting
Or, filling the gap

Time Isn't Money

Time isn't money - you can be precious with each penny
But each second that you spend? Well it's simply one of many
Yes with both there is a test to invest your very best
But at the limit there's a lesson that you should stress a little less

If you wish to be frugal with your Ruble you can Google the best way
...but you can't hoard hours away to have them on a rainy day
There are always moments doing nothing yet we never have enough
One thing I've tried to do is to learn to love the fluff

Treasure your time but still spend it. 
Drink too much wine and then regret it.
Be kind to your mind when you're repentant.
Find a way to unwind that means you meant it. 

Time is time for everyone, no matter how much you try to sift
Just remember it's ok to enjoy this curse and gift
Be grateful for the moments you didn't optimise into the aether
You are not above planning, and you're not below it either

Your time is yours to use, in any way you choose
It can't be wrong or right, it's not a game that you can lose
It is life. Stressful as I know that it can be
All of this to say, I'm thankful that you've spent this time with me

Starting Out

I have a mixed relationship with starting something new
It's like, sure, it's fun to have gone through
To be able to do something you didn't before
But getting to that point can be such a chore

The first few lessons are often fine
Learning the balance between question and whine
But slowly, inevitably, the ego will allow
A simple question - "Shouldn't I know this by now?"

"You're learning too slowly, you're being a burden
These steps are too hard, there's no way you'll learn them"
You need a little bit of ego, to help push you along
But sometimes I let my Ego take the full song

So quiet, my Ego. It's ok to not be a natural.
Each journey is unique, that alone is factual.
I will get better over time. It wont be a consistent pace.
I will enjoy it far more if I don't think of it as a race.

Skills come with a cost, and we must all pay our due
Embrace this, and you may even enjoy yourself when starting anew

Rosie in Lidl

You saw yourself on live TV
With personalised security cam feedback
So you jumped and you danced
And you got in the way of the people pushing trolleys

You asked to be lifted up
So you could better see yourself
And also, I guess, so the security people
Could be *really* sure you weren't stealing anything

Who am I to say no?
I lifted you
And we did a little dance together
On live TV

Arcane Forces

The greatest tragedy was not that it was unavoidable
No, the opposite

The greatest tragedy was that on all other worlds it was avoided
That so much had to go wrong for this to happen

Life has happy endings, sometimes
Things do go right
Often, even, you can say we progress

Which is why those moments when things do fall
We like to feel it was inevitable
A punishment, maybe, surely,
No

No, I cannot claim that
Not most of the time
We have lived through so many "perfect storms"
That it is hard to recognise a genuine one

One that is not just due to greed 
Or malice
But life itself
Circumstance
The fates

and the knowledge that it didn't have to be

Snowmen

Snow starts flat
Even, in all places
Then it melts a little more
On slopes the sun faces

Then, more disorder
Cars clean roads to slush
Pavement steps ice out
Clean white to grey mush

The natural day-to-day of folk
Leaves an imprint we don't usually see
But the disorder I appreciate most
Is more deliberate to me

Beyond the snowballs and sledges
Snowmen rise to attention
Raised with joy wand perseverance
Subject to some creator decoration

And then, melted snowmen guard paths
The last bastions of the weather that was
Details eroded, but form still remains
A clinging reminder to what was lost

Chrome Man

He never set in his ways
Except in the way of never setting
Nor would he count his days
Not that he found age unsettling

But simply because there was too much
Too much to learn, to much to do
His patience could be short as such
Yet, if intriguing he found time for you

There was a wiry energy in him
That would stick throughout the years
A restlessness that comes from within
Where lack of purpose is chief of fears

Intolerable to some, yet always himself
Laws were questions that might lead to crime
Enough money that he never sought wealth
I wonder if you've met such a man in your time?

***

Inspired by General Chrome from Iconoclasts, listening to his "Preacher" theme https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zom7tH7yWeI