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
3 October 2018
26 September 2018
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, constrained
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.
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, constrained
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.
18 September 2018
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
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
12 September 2018
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 its 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.
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 its 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.
5 September 2018
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.
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.
29 August 2018
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.
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.
22 August 2018
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
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
15 August 2018
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.
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.
8 August 2018
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.
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.
1 August 2018
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
25 July 2018
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
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
18 July 2018
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
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
11 July 2018
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
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
4 July 2018
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.
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.
27 June 2018
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 your 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.
Life's been a rush
Work has been hard
Expectations a must
You've been off your 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.
20 June 2018
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
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
13 June 2018
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.
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.
6 June 2018
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.
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.
30 May 2018
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.
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.
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.
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.
23 May 2018
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. They learn, adapt, and meet others
Some will fall away, 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.
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. They learn, adapt, and meet others
Some will fall away, 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.
16 May 2018
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?
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?
9 May 2018
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.
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.
2 May 2018
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.
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.
25 April 2018
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
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
18 April 2018
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.
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.
11 April 2018
Is life a race, or a dance?
Is life a race, or a dance?
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.
4 April 2018
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
Like when we know someone has been 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.
When you see your friends smile - it gives your heart a lift
It's the thing that fills us with utmost joy
Like when we know someone has been 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.
28 March 2018
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.
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.
21 March 2018
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
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
14 March 2018
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 her 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 her 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 seen 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.
Then 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 naught but the tale
of the kid that could
but wouldn't
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 her 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 her 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 seen 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.
Then 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 naught but the tale
of the kid that could
but wouldn't
fly.
7 March 2018
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.
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.
28 February 2018
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 begin 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.
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 begin 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.
21 February 2018
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.
14 February 2018
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.
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.
7 February 2018
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.
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.
31 January 2018
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 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.
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.
24 January 2018
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?
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?
17 January 2018
Snowman
Yo. I made a snow man.
He was a cool, not take any of your stuff man.
Kinda chilly, not one to rise to anger or danger.
He'd give an icy smile to any passerby and stranger.
Had a bit of a pot belly, but that wasn't his issue.
He couldn't take the heat - would always need a tissue.
He didn't own 24 carrot gold, but nose where riches lie.
My snow man has his home, the place he will die.
No point in moving, though grass is greener.
Put on a smile - no point in acting meaner,
He would melt your heart if you gave him time
My snow man committed no coldhearted crime.
He's on his way out, so keep him in your thoughts.
Goodbye snow man, your time was short.
He was a cool, not take any of your stuff man.
Kinda chilly, not one to rise to anger or danger.
He'd give an icy smile to any passerby and stranger.
Had a bit of a pot belly, but that wasn't his issue.
He couldn't take the heat - would always need a tissue.
He didn't own 24 carrot gold, but nose where riches lie.
My snow man has his home, the place he will die.
No point in moving, though grass is greener.
Put on a smile - no point in acting meaner,
He would melt your heart if you gave him time
My snow man committed no coldhearted crime.
He's on his way out, so keep him in your thoughts.
Goodbye snow man, your time was short.
10 January 2018
Take a second. And take notice.
On this day, take a second, and take notice. Because often, we don't.
We don't notice how much people cheer for us.
I know you wont recall how proud your parents were when you said your first word.
Or how the same parents doted after you when you took your first steps.
I guarantee they doted. Because you were small, and they were big steps. Ones worth noting.
They've been cheering you on all your life. And they aren't the only ones.
At one point, you made your first friend who wasn't part of your family.
In this big wide world, you found someone who enjoyed spending time with you, who didn't have to spend time with you.
They stayed, because they enjoyed talking to you and doing things with you.
They were to be the first of many.
Throughout your life, teachers have silently cheered you as you put your heart into something.
Maybe a librarian saw you take out a book they also enjoyed, and you warmed them inside.
You helped someone who had fallen off their bike, and a passerby resolved to be you if they saw it happen again.
Throughout your life, some good deeds you have done, have likely inspired others.
And sometimes, it isn't even that quiet!
If we get picked for sports teams or pass interviews, it is because someone looked at us and thought "Yes! This person has the talents I am looking for".
No one enters into a relationship without admiring that person in some way.
If you are in a relationship, you are likely the world to that person.
We forget when people tell us "Well done" - they have recognised the work you have done.
We ignore when people say "You made me smile" - this is a smile the world would otherwise not get to see, if not for you.
We pass over those who tell us that they are inspired by us.
So take this knowledge, and do not forget it. This knowledge of all you have done well and all those people who stand behind you, cheering you on. Take this knowledge, and fight the next battle.
People are cheering for you.
On this day, take a second. And notice.
We don't notice how much people cheer for us.
I know you wont recall how proud your parents were when you said your first word.
Or how the same parents doted after you when you took your first steps.
I guarantee they doted. Because you were small, and they were big steps. Ones worth noting.
They've been cheering you on all your life. And they aren't the only ones.
At one point, you made your first friend who wasn't part of your family.
In this big wide world, you found someone who enjoyed spending time with you, who didn't have to spend time with you.
They stayed, because they enjoyed talking to you and doing things with you.
They were to be the first of many.
Throughout your life, teachers have silently cheered you as you put your heart into something.
Maybe a librarian saw you take out a book they also enjoyed, and you warmed them inside.
You helped someone who had fallen off their bike, and a passerby resolved to be you if they saw it happen again.
Throughout your life, some good deeds you have done, have likely inspired others.
And sometimes, it isn't even that quiet!
If we get picked for sports teams or pass interviews, it is because someone looked at us and thought "Yes! This person has the talents I am looking for".
No one enters into a relationship without admiring that person in some way.
If you are in a relationship, you are likely the world to that person.
We forget when people tell us "Well done" - they have recognised the work you have done.
We ignore when people say "You made me smile" - this is a smile the world would otherwise not get to see, if not for you.
We pass over those who tell us that they are inspired by us.
So take this knowledge, and do not forget it. This knowledge of all you have done well and all those people who stand behind you, cheering you on. Take this knowledge, and fight the next battle.
People are cheering for you.
On this day, take a second. And notice.
3 January 2018
The song is beautiful
The song is beautiful.
But it ends, as all songs must.
And there isn't a dry eye in the house.
Men who built up walls have had them shattered.
Children who do not know loss now know they lack, something.
The entire front row are standing, sending a ripple through the crowd.
There is cheering. Yelling. There is celebration of what has happened.
Tinged with the demand, the raw urge to hear more.
In the midst of the crowd, a young woman sits.
She did not stir. She did not applaud. She was certain this would work.
The musician was the best around, after all.
After the show, the musician is mobbed.
They plead patience. And take time. Every fan has their ten seconds.
And every ear that heard is a fan. So this takes a while.
Exhaustion sets in. The entourage is big, but not unkind.
There for the musician's protection, they try to guide away by the shoulder.
Their efforts are fruitless. The musician has seen their target.
"You. Young woman. I have something for you.".
The crowd gasps. And parts.
She stands alone. Just as she was before.
The only one unmoved.
"You came seeking emotion. You came hoping I would provide.
Alas, this musician can only do so much.
Let me just say this.
Keep searching.
You will find your song.
It will not be the same as anyone else's, and you may have to play it yourself.
But it exists. Or, at least, it will someday.
If you keep looking."
The musician turned, and so did the woman.
The fans went after the musician, fawning and asking for guidance of their own.
He had already given them all he could.
The woman?
She knew the song was beautiful.
But that it had ended.
All she had to do, was find the next one.
But it ends, as all songs must.
And there isn't a dry eye in the house.
Men who built up walls have had them shattered.
Children who do not know loss now know they lack, something.
The entire front row are standing, sending a ripple through the crowd.
There is cheering. Yelling. There is celebration of what has happened.
Tinged with the demand, the raw urge to hear more.
In the midst of the crowd, a young woman sits.
She did not stir. She did not applaud. She was certain this would work.
The musician was the best around, after all.
After the show, the musician is mobbed.
They plead patience. And take time. Every fan has their ten seconds.
And every ear that heard is a fan. So this takes a while.
Exhaustion sets in. The entourage is big, but not unkind.
There for the musician's protection, they try to guide away by the shoulder.
Their efforts are fruitless. The musician has seen their target.
"You. Young woman. I have something for you.".
The crowd gasps. And parts.
She stands alone. Just as she was before.
The only one unmoved.
"You came seeking emotion. You came hoping I would provide.
Alas, this musician can only do so much.
Let me just say this.
Keep searching.
You will find your song.
It will not be the same as anyone else's, and you may have to play it yourself.
But it exists. Or, at least, it will someday.
If you keep looking."
The musician turned, and so did the woman.
The fans went after the musician, fawning and asking for guidance of their own.
He had already given them all he could.
The woman?
She knew the song was beautiful.
But that it had ended.
All she had to do, was find the next one.
31 December 2017
Top 10 of 2017
Stumbled across my blog? Wondering what to read. Well, here are the 10 poems I wrote that meant most to me in 2017, that I think you'll enjoy.
I just created something
Finally, I made a poem about creating poetry that I really liked. This one is fun to perform and, I think, fun to listen to as well. The aim is to connect with the listener, and that personal contact that exists makes it one I want to memorise and have on demand.
The secret about poetry
Following on, I was challenged by someone to make a poem for kids. Well, I interpreted that as writing as if I was getting to perform to kids. Intentionally keeping the language and rhymes 'simple' was fun, as was getting across this message.
Ledbury
This poem means a lot simply as the first proper religious poem I've written in a long time. The fact I got to perform it made it even sweeter. Given how important my faith is to me, being able to overcome that block and produce something meant a lot to me.
The Vow
Brave
Some people struggle in life. I'm glad I finally wrote something to demonstrate to them, if not that I can fully empathise, but that I realise what they do is difficult. I know this poem means a lot to some people close to me, so that means it means a lot to me, too.
Blessed with friends
On that note, this poem means a lot because I'm getting to talk about how much I value those close to me. I'm lucky with the friends I have, and sometimes I realise I don't put enough effort into these relationships. I'm weird in that I like meeting people occasionally, and find close relationships difficult. So this was to thank those that have stuck with me.
Did you not expect us
A lot of my poems tend to be positive. So having one which was trying to capture raw anger was certainly a challenge. Made after a chat with a friend, after trying to come up with a poem it would be good to film. Certainly something I want to do, some day.
The family trade
I like this one for the story it tells. I'm trying to get better at telling stories which are completely separate from me, and this was probably my best attempt at that this year. One I'll try to work on, but for now, I'm happy with this.
The books of war
If I ever perform this to you, I'll need five minutes. It has a really cool and unusual rhythm, which comes from the song the poem is named after. That makes it a lot of fun, but also a lot of work to do in a live setting. The challenge is good though, and I like how unique the poem feels to me.
Matter
Probably the poem that was in my head the longest. One of the toughest longform poems I did this year, and on a scale I'm not used to writing. Also an idea I was really happy to get out of my head. I'd tried to represent it in the poem before, but it didn't feel right. So it was good to just take another crack and get this one down.
Bonus: two more that meant a lot to me, but that no one else will enjoy because they were written with very specific people in mind.
The first among us
A poem written for my brother, performed at his wedding. It's hard for a poem to mean more than this. It's sad in one way - I really liked it, and I don't think I'll ever get to perform it again. But it was written for that moment, and I don't think I'd change it at all.
My best man speech
Being asked to be best man by my friend Joe was a special experience, and having the experience of performing at another wedding that year certainly helped. It was filmed for posterity, and I pretty much managed to not forget my lines. Almost.
I just created something
Finally, I made a poem about creating poetry that I really liked. This one is fun to perform and, I think, fun to listen to as well. The aim is to connect with the listener, and that personal contact that exists makes it one I want to memorise and have on demand.
The secret about poetry
Following on, I was challenged by someone to make a poem for kids. Well, I interpreted that as writing as if I was getting to perform to kids. Intentionally keeping the language and rhymes 'simple' was fun, as was getting across this message.
Ledbury
This poem means a lot simply as the first proper religious poem I've written in a long time. The fact I got to perform it made it even sweeter. Given how important my faith is to me, being able to overcome that block and produce something meant a lot to me.
The Vow
While Ledbury was my first faith poem in a long time, this is my favourite one of this year. The only one where I got inspired, then actually took some time to hash it out and get it up to a standard I'm proud of.
Brave
Some people struggle in life. I'm glad I finally wrote something to demonstrate to them, if not that I can fully empathise, but that I realise what they do is difficult. I know this poem means a lot to some people close to me, so that means it means a lot to me, too.
Blessed with friends
On that note, this poem means a lot because I'm getting to talk about how much I value those close to me. I'm lucky with the friends I have, and sometimes I realise I don't put enough effort into these relationships. I'm weird in that I like meeting people occasionally, and find close relationships difficult. So this was to thank those that have stuck with me.
Did you not expect us
A lot of my poems tend to be positive. So having one which was trying to capture raw anger was certainly a challenge. Made after a chat with a friend, after trying to come up with a poem it would be good to film. Certainly something I want to do, some day.
The family trade
I like this one for the story it tells. I'm trying to get better at telling stories which are completely separate from me, and this was probably my best attempt at that this year. One I'll try to work on, but for now, I'm happy with this.
The books of war
If I ever perform this to you, I'll need five minutes. It has a really cool and unusual rhythm, which comes from the song the poem is named after. That makes it a lot of fun, but also a lot of work to do in a live setting. The challenge is good though, and I like how unique the poem feels to me.
Matter
Probably the poem that was in my head the longest. One of the toughest longform poems I did this year, and on a scale I'm not used to writing. Also an idea I was really happy to get out of my head. I'd tried to represent it in the poem before, but it didn't feel right. So it was good to just take another crack and get this one down.
Bonus: two more that meant a lot to me, but that no one else will enjoy because they were written with very specific people in mind.
The first among us
A poem written for my brother, performed at his wedding. It's hard for a poem to mean more than this. It's sad in one way - I really liked it, and I don't think I'll ever get to perform it again. But it was written for that moment, and I don't think I'd change it at all.
My best man speech
Being asked to be best man by my friend Joe was a special experience, and having the experience of performing at another wedding that year certainly helped. It was filmed for posterity, and I pretty much managed to not forget my lines. Almost.
27 December 2017
Dead books
How do you feel, when you pick up the book of a dead author?
Particularly a book which you enjoy.
Go, do it now.
Realise that, though this person has passed from this Earth, they are not gone.
The book you hold in your hands is real.
It could take you on adventures, while keeping you right where you are.
You could take pilgrimage in it's pages, lose yourself in the prose.
Say hello to characters that will never have another sentence written for them.
Fall in love with the ideas, with the words. And then read the last line.
You are done. That book is done. You are not done.
Those characters are with you, and alive in you. You will take them with you.
And all those characters are and were, springs from a person no longer here.
There is power in books. In stories.
Do not take them lightly.
For though the authors may die,
There is no such thing as a dead book.
They live on.
Particularly a book which you enjoy.
Go, do it now.
Realise that, though this person has passed from this Earth, they are not gone.
The book you hold in your hands is real.
It could take you on adventures, while keeping you right where you are.
You could take pilgrimage in it's pages, lose yourself in the prose.
Say hello to characters that will never have another sentence written for them.
Fall in love with the ideas, with the words. And then read the last line.
You are done. That book is done. You are not done.
Those characters are with you, and alive in you. You will take them with you.
And all those characters are and were, springs from a person no longer here.
There is power in books. In stories.
Do not take them lightly.
For though the authors may die,
There is no such thing as a dead book.
They live on.
20 December 2017
When are we honest
Yo. Who are you. I mean, who are you really
It's a question I've always approached somewhat queerly
Like, is this not me? Who I am each day?
Am I not myself if I live life in a comfortable way?
Yet I've heard it said, and heard it said sometimes by me
That most of the time in life what we say is untrustworthy
We have barriers, protections from a world always at war
Trying to break us down and then break us down some more
So we can't be honest. We can't speak our mind.
Except when we're in an intoxicated state of a kind.
Or we're tired. Or we're too young to know better.
Only when we're down can you trust our word to the letter.
So what? When I panic, or am stressed, I know I behave differently
Does that mean that these automatic choices represent me?
Rather than a decision I've thought about for hours on end?
Is that whole existence just a great game of pretend?
That doesn't mean I can discard that me either
I'm accountable for them, and must act as healer
If I do wrong or behave in a way which harms
It's because the conscious me wants to apply that balm
Here's the great truth. We are flawed. We are more than one thing.
We are our response to whatever challenges the world may bring.
Even if the responses would be different, they are the range of us,
But you can only ever act as you feel that you must.
It's a question I've always approached somewhat queerly
Like, is this not me? Who I am each day?
Am I not myself if I live life in a comfortable way?
Yet I've heard it said, and heard it said sometimes by me
That most of the time in life what we say is untrustworthy
We have barriers, protections from a world always at war
Trying to break us down and then break us down some more
So we can't be honest. We can't speak our mind.
Except when we're in an intoxicated state of a kind.
Or we're tired. Or we're too young to know better.
Only when we're down can you trust our word to the letter.
So what? When I panic, or am stressed, I know I behave differently
Does that mean that these automatic choices represent me?
Rather than a decision I've thought about for hours on end?
Is that whole existence just a great game of pretend?
That doesn't mean I can discard that me either
I'm accountable for them, and must act as healer
If I do wrong or behave in a way which harms
It's because the conscious me wants to apply that balm
Here's the great truth. We are flawed. We are more than one thing.
We are our response to whatever challenges the world may bring.
Even if the responses would be different, they are the range of us,
But you can only ever act as you feel that you must.
13 December 2017
I am thankful
This list is not complete. But it has now been started.
I am thankful that I was brave enough to give blood.
I am thankful that I was so unaccustomed to pain that the whole experience sucked quite a lot.
I am thankful that society doesn't dictate I have to remove my leg hair and that the word epilate is not in my regular vocabulary.
I am thankful I never had diabetes, so don't have to inject myself regularly.
I am thankful that people worked really hard on making diabetes a manageable problem, as some of my good friends are diabetics.
I am thankful for my friends.
I am thankful that my parents were around at most meals.
I am thankful I realised they are interesting to talk to.
I am really thankful for all the times they drove me places, but also that they let me cycle on my own, even though it worried them.
I am thankful for the financial security they provided, so I never had to learn how long after a missed bill payment the lights will go out.
I am thankful that I was able to focus on learning when growing up.
I am thankful I had teachers to help me learn.
I am thankful that I don't really panic in stressful situations.
I am thankful I learnt first aid, and that I haven't had to use it much.
I am thankful I don't give in to peer pressure.
I am thankful that I have so much to be thankful for.
I am thankful I have so many people to be thankful for.
I am thankful that this list isn't even complete. But I am thankful it has been started.
I am thankful that I was brave enough to give blood.
I am thankful that I was so unaccustomed to pain that the whole experience sucked quite a lot.
I am thankful that society doesn't dictate I have to remove my leg hair and that the word epilate is not in my regular vocabulary.
I am thankful I never had diabetes, so don't have to inject myself regularly.
I am thankful that people worked really hard on making diabetes a manageable problem, as some of my good friends are diabetics.
I am thankful for my friends.
I am thankful that my parents were around at most meals.
I am thankful I realised they are interesting to talk to.
I am really thankful for all the times they drove me places, but also that they let me cycle on my own, even though it worried them.
I am thankful for the financial security they provided, so I never had to learn how long after a missed bill payment the lights will go out.
I am thankful that I was able to focus on learning when growing up.
I am thankful I had teachers to help me learn.
I am thankful that I don't really panic in stressful situations.
I am thankful I learnt first aid, and that I haven't had to use it much.
I am thankful I don't give in to peer pressure.
I am thankful that I have so much to be thankful for.
I am thankful I have so many people to be thankful for.
I am thankful that this list isn't even complete. But I am thankful it has been started.
6 December 2017
Today sucked
Dear Diary,
For me, today absolutely sucked.
Some days suck because things don't go your way and you're down on your luck.
This day was entirely my fault.
And everyone was so nice about it. People were polite the entire day through.
They had their smiles on their faces and were positive too.
I helped put up Christmas decorations, I put tinsel on windows
I got my hair braided by a girl I didn't previously know.
Most of these people didn't know the choice I had made.
I am thankful for all of them. But my day still sucked.
I walked slowly into the clean and sterile room.
I was told to read leaflets I had read 3 times before coming here.
Told to drink pleasantly sweet squash, a slightly different brand to the one I had been drinking all day.
I was quizzed as to which countries I had been to in the last year, and I felt like a jet-setter.
I travelled further last year than I had ever travelled before.
I was quizzed about my medications. I couldn't remember the name of one.
I ignored the part of my brain desperately giving me an "out".
I looked up my surgery number online, and they gave me the information.
The key to going one step further.
They told me I had passed. Yay.
Everytime I said I was nervous, someone comforted me.
Especially when the women took a blood sample from my finger.
I didn't realise pain could feel both electric and mechanical at the same time.
The sterile room was quite small.
A kindly man laid me down, and made conversation that wasn't forced.
Each step was small. To turn at any point would have been a bigger step.
I laid down.
The man brandished an instrument. It cleaned my arm. For around 30 seconds.
I was asked if I'd like to find out if I was eligible for a platelet donation. It's only one more needle.
I declined. It was a small step. The coward that I am likes small steps.
The next step only required me not to move.
I made sure I was looking the other way.
The pain was not short. Even though I was told my vein was easy to find.
I had been told to ball up my hand. I could feel the stiffness in my forearm.
I looked. After around five minutes, I looked. And took a picture.
My static arm shows no cowardice in that picture.
Instead, I seem brave. Just like I did when I signed up in under ten minutes.
Just like the friends I had chatted to before, for whom it was no big deal.
Or the people in the room there with me.
Either side of me, a father and son donated. It was the son's fifth time. The father, many more.
For so many, this is a simple step.
I am not one of many.
When the machine mercifully beeped as my arm went cold.
I required half an hour longer to rise, due to feeling faint.
Indicating I am one of the less than 2% of people to whom this happens.
And I left. A bandage to my arm and memories in my head.
Dear Diary,
For me, today absolutely sucked.
Dear Diary,
For someone else, today sucked a lot less.
Dear Diary,
Today was one of the few days in my life I managed to make not about me.
Dear Diary,
Today sucked. But it was a good day.
sign up at blood.co.uk
It's easy, simple, and for most people, is completely fine.
For me, today absolutely sucked.
Some days suck because things don't go your way and you're down on your luck.
This day was entirely my fault.
And everyone was so nice about it. People were polite the entire day through.
They had their smiles on their faces and were positive too.
I helped put up Christmas decorations, I put tinsel on windows
I got my hair braided by a girl I didn't previously know.
Most of these people didn't know the choice I had made.
I am thankful for all of them. But my day still sucked.
I walked slowly into the clean and sterile room.
I was told to read leaflets I had read 3 times before coming here.
Told to drink pleasantly sweet squash, a slightly different brand to the one I had been drinking all day.
I was quizzed as to which countries I had been to in the last year, and I felt like a jet-setter.
I travelled further last year than I had ever travelled before.
I was quizzed about my medications. I couldn't remember the name of one.
I ignored the part of my brain desperately giving me an "out".
I looked up my surgery number online, and they gave me the information.
The key to going one step further.
They told me I had passed. Yay.
Everytime I said I was nervous, someone comforted me.
Especially when the women took a blood sample from my finger.
I didn't realise pain could feel both electric and mechanical at the same time.
The sterile room was quite small.
A kindly man laid me down, and made conversation that wasn't forced.
Each step was small. To turn at any point would have been a bigger step.
I laid down.
The man brandished an instrument. It cleaned my arm. For around 30 seconds.
I was asked if I'd like to find out if I was eligible for a platelet donation. It's only one more needle.
I declined. It was a small step. The coward that I am likes small steps.
The next step only required me not to move.
I made sure I was looking the other way.
The pain was not short. Even though I was told my vein was easy to find.
I had been told to ball up my hand. I could feel the stiffness in my forearm.
I looked. After around five minutes, I looked. And took a picture.
My static arm shows no cowardice in that picture.
Instead, I seem brave. Just like I did when I signed up in under ten minutes.
Just like the friends I had chatted to before, for whom it was no big deal.
Or the people in the room there with me.
Either side of me, a father and son donated. It was the son's fifth time. The father, many more.
For so many, this is a simple step.
I am not one of many.
When the machine mercifully beeped as my arm went cold.
I required half an hour longer to rise, due to feeling faint.
Indicating I am one of the less than 2% of people to whom this happens.
And I left. A bandage to my arm and memories in my head.
Dear Diary,
For me, today absolutely sucked.
Dear Diary,
For someone else, today sucked a lot less.
Dear Diary,
Today was one of the few days in my life I managed to make not about me.
Dear Diary,
Today sucked. But it was a good day.
sign up at blood.co.uk
It's easy, simple, and for most people, is completely fine.
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