Sport is a Fantasy

Sport is one of life's most wonderful fantasies
And it's time to stop pretending otherwise
That the physical pursuit of arbitrary rules
Is nothing more than fantastic lies.

Fantasies make you believe foolish tales
Of course the world is not about to end
Yet you believe in the smallest heroes
And invest in the great game of pretend

What the best fantasies do
Is teach you things about who you are
That you can be the one to step up
Even if the situation is bizarre

Here then, is a toast to Sport
The most fantastic author of all
Who makes us hold our breath
As we watch the flight of a ball

Sport makes us think it really matters
If we really can jump 1cm higher than the rest
Whether we can keep our toes inside the line
Or wield a bat with great finesse

More than society will often allow
We ride the great emotions
We'll yell and scream and dance and shout
We follow with devotion

Unless, of course, we step into the story
And insert ourselves into the page
Step a foot upon the pitch
Enclosed within the chalky cage

This is when we feel the most
And when we learn the most as well
How much do we really want this?
Are we prepared to go through hell?

To get up early, train til late
We learn the limit of our power
We train for days, for weeks and more
To perform for just an hour

We endure injury and physio
We endure the wind and rain
We buy into this awesome tale
We put up with the pain

Just so we can find a happy ending
To the current chapter, at least
It requires our inner hero
But also our inner beast

Sport has its ups, sport has it's down
It can be tough and cold
It tells the tale of champions
And the sadness of growing old

You must take it all Sport has to offer,
To see how the story plays
Yes, Sport is but a fantasy
And I mean that in the best of ways

Blank Canvas

Here, a blank canvas
Use it well.
You can be patient
Take time. Dwell.

But, eventually
Make your mark
Strike the white
With some dark

Add your contrast
To the page
Strike precise
Not with rage

Take this sheet
Make it your own
Take this nothing
Make it known

You will learn
To make space appear
New blank slates
There and here

If one day you've
a canvas to spare
Give it forward
if you dare

Let another thrive
In what they do
But this blank canvas
I give to you.

Food waste

One plus one equals two
Us equals me plus you (plus you)
Simple equations, simply stated
Leaves our satisfaction sated

Some things are fun to make equations for
Like food plus hunger equals hunger no more
Isn't that simple? Clean and Nice.
So fun, in fact, let's state it twice.

Food plus hunger equals hunger for some
Isn't that cool...wait....hmmm
Somethings gone wrong. That's not right.
Ok, maybe in cases of famine or blight.

Lots of food plus hunger...still equals some hunger left.
Despite the abundance, we leave some bereft.
We've skewed the mathematics to one side
To leave some feeling empty inside

How to balance it? Well there's easy tricks
But some things in life are hard to fix
That doesn't mean that it's not worth a try
If enough people starting thinking blue sky

So for those of us who can't affect agricultural scale
Or global distributions and all that would entail
Look local instead, and share what you can
Balance the equation for one more human

The hero fell

The hero fell,
as the people watched

Why could they not stop staring?
At the fall of a hero who would not stop caring?

Did some watch because otherwise, they would not believe it true?
The destruction of a person and they thought above me and you?

Did some watch out of delight, to see they who flew high lose their wings?
Were they satisfied to see that the uncaged bird no longer sings?

Did some watch out of disbelief, because they had been taught to believe,
That in some way, somehow, the hero always finds their reprieve?

Did some watch out of cynicism, happy to see them fall from high?
Using the fall as proof that the hero could never have flown in the sky?


Maybe, amongst the crowd, was the one who plotted the hero's fall
Perhaps scared, perhaps happy, possibly even a bit regretful


The hero fell,
But I do not know why the people watched.
Maybe they didn't know either.
I didn't.

Grief

Do you know the odd thing about the symptoms of disease?
When your coughing and sneezing and stuck in bed?
Those things which are our body responding to something not right with us
Are instead the things that can wreck us beyond repair

Do you know the odd thing about grief?
When despair and sadness fill up our head?
That thing which is our body responding to something not right with the world
Is instead the thing that can wreck us beyond repair

We can cure symptoms with pills
Or our body fixing itself to become right
I know that a doctor's advice will never go amiss
Allowing us to become healthy once more

I do not know how to cure grief
Especially when that which causes grief is something we can't fix
But I do know that compassion and love will never go amiss
To give us faith and hope for the world in store

Refugee's pain

Imagine, right now, there was a country you could escape to.
A country where you could hug friends and go to the pub too.
A place where your grandparents would not be in danger.
With a good school for your kids, where you could shake hands with strangers.
A place where you could be assured a bed in a hospital if you were sick.
I'm sure most of you would choose to escape to that country pretty quick.

Then imagine that things were worse - a country at war
Guns echoing in the streets outside your door
Mines in the ground as danger unseen
Drones judging killers through tv screens
Then realise this reality is why people flee
And they would take on the label of "refugee"

This reality you want to flee from so badly?
They would accept this situation gladly
That's not to say you can't complain
Nor that you aren't allow to make exasperated exclaims

Just to let you realise, in your most scary situation.
Though it is painful, with little elation.
We will mostly get through this. Things will get better for us.
The same is not true for all Earth's populous

We are closer to them than ever before
So when this is over, do not slam your door

Take a chance for empathy, to really feel
And accept that a refugee's pain is real

Do you read me?

Do you read me?
Do you read me?

I'm trying to reach you right now
I need to break out somehow

Caught in a cage, hate the jailer
I keep myself trapped safe, a saviour
But even on my best behaviour
I know I wont get air to savour

So I'm sending an SOS
Save our sanity, nothing less
I'm cranking up the ol' wireless
Cause my wires are caught in a mess

They call me radar, don't you know
All my messages echo
Send some 'hi's when I'm low
Answer, answer, don't say no

Don't worry, I'm not annoyed
Throwing e-bottles to the void
Some get cracked or get destroyed
Some'll bob, some are buoyed

A whole minute has now parted
Since my message first departed
Don't you leave me brokenhearted
Oh....we've started

Do you read me?
Do you read me?


Inspiration is the ever-dope Aesop Rock: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1iUN-J-lSs

Planets dont think

Planets don't think
Planets don't feel
But the planet's on the brink
Of a threat that's real

Is it astounding that in all of humanity
We have uncovered some simply remarkable philosophy
The intricacies of our symphonies are sumptuous to sample
But a mystery that's mist to me is mostly this example

How could we humans, who we agree are filled with cultures
Not realise or hypothesise that we are simply vultures
We make towers with rocks and flowers that are not ours to flex our powers
Without question or confession for this obsession to remould earth and it's possessions
Though some seek to shine a light on the finite-ness of our plight
We amplify and deify those who mystify this fight

We need to understand that we are guests (at best) of this land
That terra firma will rotate ever further even if it is unmanned
An argument with rocks is not a virtuous debate
I fear some folk wont stop to listen until the clock ticks too late

Planets don't think
Planets don't feel
Humanity is on the brink
And we don't believe it's real

Echoes

We are all essentially echoes

Reflecting what we receive

Amplifying, dampening

Creating a sonic weave

But we are not simply walls

Echoing each and every sound 

It would be a noisy world indeed

If we repeated every word we found

Some vibrations from years past

Still echo in your voice today

Others have been lost

Once strong, now faded away

Once, twice, a few times

The echos may combine

Forming echoes which seem new

The recipe, sublime

You are not a passive echo

As if selecting tools, not toys

Together, we can resonate

and be echoes of more than noise

I don't know what to say

I don't know what to say
I don't know what to do
But I don't feel so helpless
Because I believe in those that do

Those that walk our barren streets each day
To do work that is essential
Those trying to take on this new disease
Make me reverential

I recognise the years they spent
Before this fight even started
Learning all that they could learn
So that the advice they've now imparted

Can keep safer those that stack our shelves
Those that struggle to care for themselves
Those manning the wards on the frontlines
The necessary workers who never used to make headlines

In a world of hearsay and false prophets
It's good to acknowledge your ignorance
So that the advice that does break through
Is the advice backed by evidence

I don't know what to say
I don't know what to do
But I don't feel so helpless
Because I believe in those that do

When the history books are written

When the history books are written
That tell the tales of today
Do you ever wonder
What those books will say?

Right now, we get to choose
To make a tough decision
Will the future celebrate us
Or treat us with derision?

Let us weave a tale

Not of ego nor of vice
But rather of our kindness
And of our small sacrifice

How this point in time

Starts a chapter that changed us to our core

How for crises in the future
We would work together more

I do not know how long

The present day will last
But I know that we are strong
If we choose to stand fast

The world seems full of darkness

Humanity can be its light
But only if we set aside our issues
And, together, make things right 

Written near the start of the Corona virus outbreak in the UK

Peace is not the absence of noise

Peace is not the absence of noise
Although I know that Conflict is a cacophony
a collective chorus of countless calls
each trying to shout over the other
and clashing in the echoing chaos

Peace is not the absence of noise
Humanity was not meant to be silent
at least, not continuously so
although suppression is claimed
to be peace by some

Peace is not the absence of noise
Peace is the presence of harmonies
of my voice adding to yours which adds to theirs
and together creating music
we could never make alone

Peace is not one person living alone
but humanity living together
the tune is fragile
but it is beautiful
and worth the effort

The monkey who didn't want to climb trees and that's ok

It seems clear to me
That monkeys climb trees

They climb the big
They climb the small
Most monkeys I've met
Will climb them all

Dan was not most monkeys
And that's ok
You see Dan was odd
In how he liked to spend each day

More than anything else
Dan liked to draw
With a rough wooden brush
Held in his paw

He liked to look at trees
The root branch and bark
But rather than climb it
Dan turned trees into art

But Dan thought he was meant to climb
So Dan hid his art and felt shame
They'll never find out he decided
Or Daniel P. Monkey isn't my name!

And Daniel P. Monkey was his name
So he had complete and full faith
When he talked to his friends
That his secret was safe

But it is rarely a good thing
To hide who you are
It turns you twisted inside
Like the pipes in a car

As he climbed with his friends
He pretended things were fine
But his friends were good friends
Who cared for his mind

So one day they hid
In a very, very leafy bush
And they saw their friend Daniel
Pick up his brush

And though their feet stayed still
Their jaws hit the floor
They saw Daniel paint one tree
Then paint some more

Finally, they cracked
They leapt to where Daniel stood
They hugged and adored him
Like only friends could

They told him Daniel P. Monkey!
This art is so good!
Why did you not tell us?
We would've cheered you! We would!

And Daniel told them
Of his love for his art
And how scared he had been
To follow his heart

He told them how great they were
When they climbed all those trees
But how climbing so high
Made him weak at the knees

His friends, they smiled
We have our talents, you have yours
No amount of climbing trees
Could make your art come from our paws

Let's celebrate together! they said
And celebrate they did
A very grand party was held
For every adult and kid

Daniel drew more and more
The best that he could
His friends hung the paintings up
On every spare piece of wood

They climber higher than Daniel dared
Until in every inch all around
Paintings were hung
From the sky to the ground

Together they made
The most fantastic of scenes you every could see
And not a single soul cared
That Daniel P. Monkey did not want to climb trees

Not all trees were meant for fire

In the early years of humanity
We learned to burn trees for fuel
We realised the power that lay within fire
Just like we learned to harness the mule

We used the heat to cook our food
And did not give a second thought
We became rulers, lords of this land
As the lessons of wood were taught

So we burned and we burned
We used fuel to fulfill our desire
And slowly, too slowly, we had to learn
Not all trees were meant for our fire

Some trees are meant to provide shade on hot days
Some trees are homes for creatures big and small
Some hold the ground to stop floods in towns
Trees do so much for us all

What is happening, finally, is we are learning our place
That trees are more than just long sticks and tools
They provide beauty and oxygen and, if we can save them yet
They may just help keep the planet cool

Humans are in the world, not above it
It's time to behave honestly
All it requires is to act with restraint
And not burn every last tree

He leant back on his chair

He leant back on his chair, and time stood still
There'd be time in the future for adventure and thrill

Right now, things are at rest
No time to worry or prepare for a test
No worrying about what the future might bring
There was no hierarchy, no peasant or king
Just the moment that had always been there
During the exhale of breath as it mixes with the air
Before the eyes open from a well earned blink
It's like, well, what's the opposite of being on the brink?
Instead being in a place so steady nothing can knock you down
The smallest of smiles and not a trace of frown

A self-contained moment to enjoy but not keep
As he leant back on his chair, and sunk in deep

Arrive

Hey, I'm here!
Where? Here!
But where is here?

Here is where I am right now
The product of a thousand whys and hows
All the people I've met and a thousand decisions
Have led me to here with utmost precision!

It's amazing!
What? Yeah!
No, what are you talking about?

I could be living anywhere, I could be doing anything
Just think of all the many things that tomorrow could bring
Then apply it to a year and the many different ways
That result from choices made on many different days

Then apply it to two years, three years, four
And think how unlikely it is as you keep adding more
That you arrived right here to this place to this time
Experiencing what is really a quite silly rhyme

Sometimes we arrive with purpose or we arrive without drive
But no matter how or why you got here, you have now arrived
What you do, now you're here? Without hesitation,
I can say you are doing the thing that will lead you to the next destination

Craft a path

I was lost in a place I knew I hadn't seen before
There was darkness all around but only one route in markings on the floor
So I turned right round and tried to find another
I took one foot put it in front of the other
Walking slowly away from the comfort of the runes
Maybe I was walking to my eventual tomb?
Didn't matter. I found lights glow in my footprints
Found crisscrossing paths and was soon convinced
That this was my duty, to light a new way
Maybe someone else would follow my path some day?
Or maybe their ego would put them in the opposite way too
The oscillation of the stubborn individual
Is still maybe better than never oscillating at all

I doubted my gait as my faith began to waver
I'd now be many steps behind, too late to be a saviour
Didn't want to undo the negative progress I'd already made
Rather see if I could last as I met water and began to wade
Out of my depth but I had to keep going
Longing for indication but deep down knowing
When you make the choice to take a path alone
You wont get the validation to which some choices are prone
You're bound to second guess every choice
Just don't give in to that doubting voice
Eventually, your feet will find a surface to let you rest
Before you move on to the next question on the test
Come through, maybe realise there was a bridge a few meters left
Yet realise how much strength you now carry with you
Even in the battles you didn't have to go through

I walked forward with no end goal in mind
The reward was the journey. and moments I would find
Sometimes finding others who eschewed the path on the floor
Then being pulled in a direction I'd never been before
I know very little - least of all if I'm doing the right thing
All I know is that life is not a competition you can win
It's an experience so explore inner and outer space in this land
Live each day and craft your own path if you can

Before the storm

Are you supposed to relax, in the calm before the storm?
Enjoy the last few minutes before chaos is born?

Stare down the lightning that is to come

Be bigger that the thunder that shoots louder than a gun

Do you panic? Release all the fear until you have none left?

Bite through your nails leave your sweat glands bereft?

It may not be intentional, but it's fight or flight

And you have to wait knowing things wont be alright

Some plan. Use the extra time merely as an extension

Build a shelter that might collapse on the slightest provocation

Plot and scheme how to take the storm down

Beware, dear storm, a rival has walked into town

Here is a fact. The storm will one day arrive with a crash

But the old adage holds true - it too will pass

And while I don't dispute that the storm will bring harm

Sometimes you still need to enjoy the days that are calm

Inspiration - the intro of Aerials by System of a Down. The whole song is beautiful, but the chilling, slowly rising intro is what inspired the emotions here.

Through the wires

click click. click click. tap tap. click.
Just like that, my message is converted to electronic semaphore
Broken up into unrecognisable splinters
Sent a thousand miles
And read by a friend on the other side of the really quite giant hunk of rock to which I am gravitationally attached.

I could, technically, send a message skittering off over near the whole surface of this world.
Maybe off world, to be sent via satellite.
Take a chance and send a package of letters echoing in to space
Words have power. And we can send our words almost anywhere

So, with this newfound power, let me preach caution
We say so much, as a species. We say more than we can possibly listen.
I get overwhelmed by this power to say so much to so many
And it seems that there are those that don't. Those willing to talk enough to get their voices heard
Is that then the answer? We must all talk as much as possible?
I hope not. I like talking, but I'm not sure I'd like to depend on it for a living.

Be careful then. You are an amplifier.
Do not let your words lose their value
Nor let people forget the value of theirs
Take time to craft something worth amplifying, if you wish it to be seen by many.

And if your message is only meant for one,
Then make it worth the scientific magic that will transport it.
Let your words sparkle through the wires
And light up someones heart.
click

Motivation

Live like someone old, who has been given back a young body for one day
Imagine you had to skip tomorrow, what would you achieve today?
Motivation is most fickle you must seize it when you can
Give the gift of encouragement and show someone you're a fan

You know that weird feeling, when someone complements you out of the blue?
Here's an open secret - you have that power too!
I know you're going to spend a while thinking "Am I just going to sound weird?"
Well, maybe. Honestly, maybe. Anxietal awkwardness is something we've all feared.

Do it anyway. Let someone know exactly how dope you think they are.
That you're a fan of what they do, don't be scared to sound bizarre
At worst, they'll brush it off. Or miss it. Or something else inconsequential.
And at best you'll make their day, motivate them, ignite their potential

You have the power to be the person that introduces someone to life outside their shell
Just don't forget, occasionally, that you can motivate yourself as well

Go to war

No matter what you think of war, do not forget the cost
Do not forget the sacrifice, the souls that will be lost
And though the rich and powerful dictate the terms of war
Remember that the price is often paid for by the young and poor

There are times when you might think of war as the action we must take
When our principles are pushed and we must stand up for them or break
If you're worried a foreign power will come and strike you in your home
I see then why you would ask for yet one more war to add to history's tome

Now, here's he thing. I do not know what goes on within the halls of power
I am not privy to the finer details of the words that echo in the ivory tower
I have not known firsthand the impasse of the leader of a nation
I do not know the stress of the country critiquing every hesitation

And yet, and yet. From my soapbox on the ground it sometimes seems to me.
That the final option of war is not always as final as it should be.
That those in the game for profit or for ego or for pride
Will gladly wage a war with a conflict on the side

It can be hard from way down here to find the truth between the news
And it's all to easy to imagine a dystopia where war is waged for votes and views
Maybe I'm an optimist. But I can't believe that's true
That a payment of lives is such an easy thing to do

But maybe they don't remember. It can be easy to forget.
When leaders go to war they don't yet know their debt.
So it's up to the people to remind them, before the souls are lost.
That if you choose to go to war do not forget the cost.

Change the world

I don't know if I'm going to change the world
But I know I want to try

This world gets more complex as I live in it
And will until I die

And I don't know how I want the world to change
Which wrong I want to right

And I want my life to be more than just one cause
There are so many things to fight

I don't know if I'll make a difference
With what I do

But I know there is virtue in the battle
In seeing something through

I don't know if I'm going to change the world
But I want to in my heart

I don't know how to change the world
But I know I have to start


Inspiration music is Full Circle by Five Finger Death Punch

A letter

Take a sheet of paper
Even a small one

Take a pen that fits your hand
Where the ink flows well

Think of a person you know
One who needs a message

Write

Words will come
Or maybe pictures

Fill the canvas with yourself
Whatever that might mean

Then seal that piece of you away
Inside a crisp envelope

Some of you may spill over
As you write the address

That's fine

Seal it with a kiss
Send it on its way

Never underestimate a letter
For someone having a bad day

Top 10 of 2019

It is tough, after writing so much, not to let creativity become routine. I've tried to let the time I've set aside for poetry be a focus for creating something new, rather than an urge to meet a deadline. It's been a tough year, but I still think I've found some time to let the spark fly :)

Weirdly, the ones I'm proudest of this year all sort of all in pairs. There were many others I loved -Caterpillar was a special poem for a friend, Identity made me delve into how I think of myself, Fantasy reminded me why it's important to create, Wordweaver captured an Alan Moore idea of the power of ideas, Told was inspired by the climate protesters, and Our Challenges Are As Unique As Our Gifts took two ideas I knew well (everyone is unique, everyone has challenges) and connected them in a way I hadn't managed before.

Motivation

Aesop Inspired
I am a huge huge fan of the artist Aesop Rock, he has this incredibly interesting way of rhyming - filled with analogies and never shying away from describing things in interesting ways. This is probably the poem I've written that has come closest to capturing that style for myself. On top of that, it has a lot of lines and imagery that I just adore. One I was rewriting for a long time, because it seems like this might be one of those poems I love but other can't connect to (potentially because Aesop's style is eclectic and I'm struggling to match it). I don't care. One of those I've memorised because I adore the rhythm so much.

Poem Catcher
Sometimes simplicity is the solution. It can be tough to keep writing poetry, especially after all this time - and I really want to keep changing up how and what I write. This was one of those times when I was struggling and just took a shot at a much simpler style of poem. It ended up being very fun - exploring a slightly surreal idea, but being very visual and not exploring it too long. I really liked it, and if any of my arty friends want to have a go at drawing it let me know ;)

Religious Poems

Faith
Inspired my a mental health in Christianity day my church ran. A friend of mine used the line "my faith is not my depression", and it got me inspired to think about all the things faith isn't (and is). I'm always really scared when writing something like this that I'll make some big theological faux pas, but I was very happy with how this turned out. I loved embracing the "CS Lewis letter" style of writing, and I think I helped capture something unique on the way.

Good Friday
One of those poems that changed the way I think about things. I remember, very clearly, getting the idea of "what if humanity could be represented as kids on a playground?". I remember being kind of sad that I didn't have the skill to write such a thing - in my head the idea worked best as a children's book format, and I don't have the best prose. As it is, I had a go anyway (I think with the encouragement of a friend), and I am so, so happy with how it turned out. A bit of a theme, but it really helped me visualise a lot of the actions of humanity - I feel like a lot of history can be interpreted in this way without losing much nuance.

Empathy

Where Passion is Sewn

I have a lot of odd tastes. I know this, and embrace it a little bit. This does mean that, in public, I'll rarely hear music I love - and also that I don't want to subject others to something that I know is unlikely to suit their palette. What is tough though, is to make sure I'm always encouraging of people with different tastes (I can't be the only one who inadvertently finds themselves making fun of odd habits, no matter how hypocritical that is). This is a little poem to remind myself of that - to adore the passion in others and encourage it where I can.

Take on the World

Outside of poetry, I also do some sports journalism. This year, I took a bit of a step back from quantity and tournament reports, and focussed instead on a few high quality pieces. One of them was an interview with a friend about Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. She described her symptoms as "a battery that couldn't fully charge". Shortly after, I myself got ill and had similar (though far, far less severe) symptoms of fatigue. I tried to use what I had learned from her to express that irritation of fatigue in a poem, and I hope I did it justice.

Big Ideas

Give Love a Try
Inspired by a spirited discussion with a friend about Christianity. My friend raised the (very legitimate) point about the harm Christianity has caused over the years. Fairly off the cuff (i.e. I sat at the screen a while pondering a response) I responded that many big ideas - regardless of how benevolent they may seem - have also been used for harmful ends. I gave science and love as two examples, and pondering over it, I realised how interesting it would be to write a poem from the perspective of two evangelists for the idea of love and a skeptic. I saw a little of myself on both sides of the argument, but the line "love is perfect, those who practice it are not" came from the evangelist, though it mirrored my thoughts in a way I hadn't expressed before. I do love writing from characters, I need to try it more.

Here is a Truth
I know I was discussing truth and lies, but I cannot remember how this idea came into my head. What I do remember though, is once the idea was there, finding it very fun to follow through. Listing all the types of lies/liars/truths and then finding a common uniting theme for each was a very fun idea, and made me do a few mental gymnastics I hadn't had to do before. I'd love more ideas like this, as tough as they are to write.

Communication

The Girl Who Dreams in Books
Written for a friend, and I loved how this one turned out (although I feel I have a lot of friends this could apply to). Again, I love the slightly surreal imagery. Dreams is an issue I've tackled a fair amount before, so when I say I think this is my best take on it I'm acknowledging how tough that task is. Maybe there's also a longing here myself - my reading has had to take a big back step in recent years, so hopefully I can inspire myself back into the pages again.

Another Tongue
I am very lucky to live in an anglo-centric world where I can travel to many different countries and meet people who know my native tongue. It's not the first time I've tackled the topic of how amazing I find people who can speak more than one language, but I think this one shows my progression as a writer. It was also very fun to perform this in front of the German society!


Many thanks to you for reading this too! I can't believe how long I've been writing now. If you every read one and want to chat about it, I would love to. It's hard work writing, but the conversations I've had inspired by the poems have been one of the things which ahve helped keep me going :)

Dear Harry in ten years

Dear Harry in ten years,

How are you doing? I hope you didn't change your name

Or, if you did, that a forwarding address means this will find you all the same

I wanted to check in with you, after all, it's been a while

Is your motto still to try to be someone you could talk to with a smile?

Or has another song lyric taken its place?

Have you found a lyricist more talented than Aes?

Are you still writing poetry? I've been going seven straight years.

Did you finally build up courage to send it to someone and ignore your fears?

What about work? If you're like me know, you'll hate being asked

But right now I'm on the precipice, being forced to leap at last

I've been static I know, while still moving hard.

I could identify every part of Oxford you'd find on a postcard

I've spent many years here, it feels like a home

I don't know if I want to settle or just want to roam

Right now, between frisbee and work, I've been delayed in seeing friends

I hope that you got around to meeting them again in the end

Everyone around me seems to be getting married and becoming mums or dads

It seems like something nice, but from a distance most things seem rad

Right now I feel under a lot of stress, fairly unable to take risks

I've had to stay at home a lot and give up on the disc

Though I feel I wouldn't trade the time I spent playing with the best

I wont lie that it still felt good at times to be having a little rest

Now, I want to return, but I've been going to the gym properly

After a long time promising myself I finally made it a priority

Did it work? Or did I just get injured yet again

If I did I bet it was the hamstring strain

I feel like I'm stronger in faith than when the decade began

Maybe I'll fall away or maybe I'll be baptised a second man

I know I'll learn a lot and change my philosophy

Promise me though you'll think through it properly?

Look, that future is uncertain, and I'll have to stay right here

A person in the past writing a future poem for the new year

I don't know if you need it, but I want to wish you luck

You're smarter than you think, even when you think you're stuck

I've no idea who you are, but I hope you're someone I'd enjoy meeting

That even if your life is hectic you have time for a friendly greeting

I've no idea if you'll read this, or even if the internet will still exist

Maybe you'll start drinking alcohol and enjoy getting pissed

Maybe the planet will call humanity on its hubris in climate change

Maybe politics will become less tribal and become less strange

Maybe, maybe. I could worry about the future forever.

The other option is to go live it, and try to change things for the better

Hey Harry? Remember you don't have to do things on your own

Remember how great your friends are. Remember you aren't alone.

Trust in Him. Trust in the relationships you've sewn.

I hope you're happy. I hope you've grown.

Dear Harry in ten years, or even in more

Don't be a stranger. Give the future what for.

Love, Harry (2019)

The mighty tree

The seed fell on unclaimed soil
Thus would begin the work and toil
The seed sprouted, began to grow
Lovely lapped up light in flow

Gathered the resources close around
Made a wide home upon the ground
Grew up tall, big wide tree
Grew up as big as it could be

It thought to itself, in a grand old voice
"How great it is, what a worthy choice
I made to work so hard, grow up so tall
These other seed don't seem to care at all"

"Amongst my mighty roots below
There lie some seeds that do not care to grow
They don't realise trees like me grew without aid!"
The seeds merely lay in the mighty tree's shade

The twilight hours

Why does everything become clear in the twilight hour?
When most brains frazzle out and streetlights gain power
As if my mind is switched in to the same system
I find my neurones connect and my ears really listen

This wouldn't be an issue, but most people work on daylight time
Like their minds and the sun can resonate as a rhyme
So I try, I really do, to pretend that I'm the same
But here I am, working in my productive hours again

Stuck late, finally able to work with little procrastination
Whereas in hours hence I was following the smallest deviations
Unable to stop my thoughts from straying to new places
Yet under the moon I see train tracks lain down in pale white laces

What do I sacrifice, by following a schedule that's not my own?
What ideas would I have developed which I have never grown?
I'm not quite sure. Yet I know if I am tasked with much stress
I will solve it if I have to, by working the time I work best

Dear future Harry. 
Don't do another D.Phil. 
Yours, Harry who is working in the lab at 9:30pm.

Bonus Prose: De-escalation

I wrote some prose on a whim in response to a writing prompt on reddit. Find it there, or see the text here. I figured it'd be nice to keep, and this blog is essentially my record of creative writing.

[WP] You’re a Superhero whose superpower is Deescalation. You fight villains by talking through their issues and helping them to make better choices.

No one sees the night before a magician's act, the beads of sweat forming as a pale faced man checks and double checks those traps and tricks that he must escape.

Nor the writing process of a comedian, as she crafts a solid fifteen minutes of material that is written and re-written to prepare for heckles and forgotten lines.

No one sees my process either. The mixture of slight premonition and person skills that lead me to plot my approach. The best of all possible approaches. With a margin for error of course.

----

I had been called to the scene that I'd seen developing on the news last night. Despite everything, I'd insisted on waiting until 10am. Any sooner could have been lethal. Any sooner, and I may not have made the interesting discovery about how things could go.

I walked slowly up to the building, an apple juice box carton in one hand and a clipboard in the other. I had the basic details of the case I had gone over a thousand times, but they'd stop believing me if they caught a glimpse of blank paper. I hated ties, but I had this one done in a scruffy knot. Smart would have worked better, but I'll take an extra half hour of prep if it means I don't have to wear the tie properly.

I walked into the door of the laboratory, turned down a narrow corridor, and took a lift to the lowest basement floor. It was the only way to give them enough time to prepare for me arrival and not shoot me out of instinct. I even pressed an extra button to stop the lift halfway and give them a small amount of extra time.

----

I actually like elevator music. Come at me.

----

*bing*

GET ON THE GROUND

"What?" I responded. "The machines are too loud!"

ON. THE GROUND.

A shady figure stood behind a control panel in the centre of the room. They were pointing a gun at me with a shaky arm, but their arm over the panel was steady. Why do you aim with a non-dominant arm? Only when the gun is your second most important weapon.

I took a swivel chair.

"You're...The Future Cometh? Don't worry, I'm not coming any closer. I'm in a swivel chair, I can't move fast in this thing. What should I call you bud?". The swivel chair thing was a lie. I prided myself on being able to clear a full room in three seconds with a good push. Maybe two.

Call me...ah, well.

"The whole name is quite long is all."

Yeah, I..uh, never expected anyone to actually have to use it to my face

"Sorry, the machines are still a bit loud. Can I move closer? Say, to this row with the plant enthusiast?"

...Sure. No closer.

"Cheers. Imma go for TFC. That ok with you? It's a good full name, but TFC is a little nicer for conversation". I stopped very slightly shy of the plant-encrusted computer, to be clear I was not pushing boundaries. This was going well. We were on a main path of events. Even better, we were on the one critical path.

TFC is nice. What do you want? I'm going to destroy this place. There's nothing you can do.

"And there's nothing I want to do, other than chat. I insisted on this. The men upstairs (and it is mostly men) wanted to send down a team with weapons. Stop you before you could destroy any of this. Your research and everyone else's.

My research? The figure cackled. It was a fine cackle. My death plans you mean. They could wipe out entire cities with what I have made.

I took a sip of my juice cartoon, gesturing at TFC to continue. I glanced at my notes a little as he spoke, trying to focus roughly near where the relevant scrawlings were for each part of the speech

I just wanted a good job. I wanted a steady income. I'm not a bad person. But before I realised what happened, they'd got me working on projects. Projects that, well...

Staying silent for thirty whole seconds was tough. I'd chosen a squeeky chair and knew what any noise now would mean.

Projects that I didn't want to be part of. Every group is slightly separate, according to the moral crimes they can commit. I found the practical testers. I don't know where they get the subjects, but they can't be volunteers. No one would volunteer to have their skin melt like that. But in their heads, the practical testers weren't the bad ones, they could never have come up with torture tools like this. And us researchers never imagined things would actually be used, or didn't imagine the purpose. That was up to the doctors who thought it was just consultant work. Some of them assumed it was for movies.

I found out. I don't know who that target is, but I know it could wipe out a city. A big one. And there would be no defence, and no warning. One day, I and everyone in our company would look up at the news, and realise what our work had done. I just realised before it happened.

"So. What now? I can see your arm is getting tired, I'm happy to move back a little if you want because you wont be able to hold the gun up much longer". I could see the figure consider it, and then put the gun down before I could move.

No. It's ok. There's nothing you can do anyway. As soon as I take my finger off this button, this building goes up and all the research with it.

"Including you?"

Including me

Two branches spread from this point. Two different paychecks, although I didn't care much for that.

"And, all the research?"

Yes..All the research.

Another pause. I counted 124 seconds in my head.

"You didn't save any research did you?"

How...Who are you?

"Doesn't matter. I'm sorry, you're right, there's nothing I can do to save you. " As the other branch closed, it became the truth. "But I don't want what you're about to do to be in vain. Not for the sake of vanity.". I had now hidden the juice box so as not to distract them. The plant foliage provided just enough camouflage if you weren't looking straight at it.

I mean. You're right. But it's at home. My son will still be there

I stood up, and started to leave. I couldn't know before talking where the other research would be hidden, but I knew who I was dealing with. Cogs started whirring in my brain. "I know you're smart. You can target the weapon to hit your house too. It's in hard files, because you knew they could track any code. So, here's what is going to happen. You're going to give me your son's phone number. I'm going to call him, and ask him to come here, saying you're in trouble at work. It's the only thing that will get him to leave without question. That will give you a five minute window to enact your plan without harming him.

...why can't I make the call?

"Because you're going to need all your will to do what you need to do. You know you might ask him to save some work. He can't know anything about what you do until it's too late. And I want to be the one to let him know, before the police do.

A solid minute's pause.

alright

---

After some negotiation about small details, including a pre-recorded message saying goodbye, I walked into the lift and left the place. I felt filthy. I told the CEOs that this was just one of those times when I couldn't do anything. They do happen from time to time. I said coldly that they'd be fine though, that it was a non-threat. No reason to leave the building perimeter. They died 27 minutes later. I played the goodbye message in a local coffee shop to the son, and held him in one arm.

I came across an escape sequence where no one died in my first half hour of preparation. I'd found five more by the end of the second hour. But some of the strings had seemed odd to me. I'd dug in, and realised what the company was, and what I was stopping. I had mapped out this particular thread in its entirety by the early morning hours.

You can't de-escalate everything forever. Sometimes, you have to let the tension go. I just get to choose where it goes boom.

Fishbowl

Focus on a subject, a fish in a bowl
Swimming forever towards no goal
He circled so much but never felt faint
Felt the pull of fate but life has a dark taint

Light tinted through the glass of his home
Doesn't think he could persevere alone
There's water in this world so he keeps on swimming
Trying to be satisfied with the life that he's living

The glass could be thick or could break with little force
He didn't want to live on this default course
An urge to explore has felled many folk before
The idea of danger can't diminish a desire in the core

Building up inside, one day he took the plunge
Bawled up his rage and struck forth with a lunge
Chaos. The world turned, and lifted whole
He swum to his freedom through a self-made hole

Turns out after all this pain and commotion
His fishbowl was just a cage in the ocean

Song I wrote this to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHnjQvHlweE

Strength in Surrender

The war was reaching it's final days
Many bodies strewn in a fragile display
Of nobility, giving your soul to a cause
This once green field the sight of many proud wars

The regretful climax of what had been a very fine battle
Saw the leader of each side, draped in chained metal
Face off as the natural end to events that had come before
The two people that all the armies had fought bravely for

But one had been dealt a critical blow to his exterior
Sacrificing his right shoulder to protect an inferior
Shamefully, he did not attempt to strike his foe's shield
But bowed his head in shameful surrender to say "I yield"

...

I read the historian's words, but couldn't shake the connotation
Of his brutal assessment of a tough situation
And the common assumption that surrender is weak
That to say "I yield" is an easy phase to speak

We face our own battles, we will not win every one
The hardest fight to give up is the one you have begun
But we all start more challenges than we can complete
They can be tough to submit, especially if there is a cost to defeat

But often I've found myself giving resources to an unwinnable war
Because I feel surrender is weak, and that's the only thing I know it for
So, this is me telling you, surrender is sometimes strength
So you can focus on what you can win, even at length

Ask for help when you need it, don't die for your pride
When you only have a few goals you can take them in stride
We only have some much of ourselves we can give to overcome
Yield what you can't complete, and emerge as someone strong

Poem catcher

Build me a poem catcher
Out of stanzas and string

Let me snag inspiration
Out of simply nothing

Swish swish through the air
Bring down a fresh verse

Maybe I'll catch some bad ones
Maybe I'll give up and curse

But if I swipe enough times
With enough perseverance

I'll catch the starting lines
Which, with some endurance

I can unravel with care
As it battles my grasp

It may not be smooth
It may grate and rasp

But my poem catcher
If I give it enough time

Will capture raw words
I can turn into rhyme

This world is kinder

This world is often far kinder than we give it credit for

Too often, we focus on the bitterness we must endure

We often feel like we are tough to love. That might be true

But we forget about the people who love us despite the toughness they must go through

Struggle and suffering are often daily chores we must tick off with regret

We ponder over them, not ready to endure them just yet

Stop. Look at the rest of the list you have in your hand.

Did you have "make someone smile" or "show kindness" planned?

No? Me neither, most days it's all grit my teeth and continue the fight.

I don't plan these things. But often they spring forth and bathe others in light

Around the world, there's many people seizing an unplanned chance to be kind

The world is full of people of a sympathetic mind

Do not forget them. Join their cause and add one more

After all, this world is often far kinder than we give it credit for

Inspiration music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TaRiaNicVU0

Nothing is stopping you

When nothing is stopping you
    You must still fight through that nothing
An empty road ahead still means you're walking towards something
Even a battle against a static punching bag
Requires you to grit up and release all the energy you had

Tasks can be difficult, with or without opposition
Realising you have to take action can be a difficult mission
That you can seize the opportunity before you
Still requires raising your hand and coordinating it too

There are many chances, but each takes some energy
Obstacle are often bigger than they were meant to be
And even if they aren't, challenges are still tough
Readying yourself for a battle when you've had enough

Do not talk yourself down for the victories you've won
Often once you've started your test, the hardest challenge is done

Long for home

Sometimes, I long for home

To the place where my heart used to roam

Still only a split second away in sound by phone

But really many miles of rock and loam

I remember this place that used to be

Preserved in my heart for eternity

(Or as long as that happens to be for me)

This collection of places and face

and fond memories and embraces

And I miss it, dearly

That feeling does not change

But slowly I come to recall

That time will have its wicked way with all

Maybe roads are repaved

Fountains and benches not saved

Maybe these feeling that I craved

Can be found afresh once more

Without travelling far - just out my door

To realise this is a place I will soon long for

Next to my old home, this new home is also in my core

Told

They tell us a lot of things when we're small
It's hard for our small heads to hold it all

We're told to behave (always)
We're told to play (sometimes)
We're told words can't affect us
Then told morality in nursery rhymes

We're told to think of ourselves
We're told not to be radical
We're told to be ourselves
But not to stand out at all

We're told our country is strong
We're told not to bully others
We're told to look after older sisters
To play rough with younger brothers

We're told to care about nature
We're told to drive cars
We're told to stand up
But not for a cause they find bizarre

We're told to make things which are new
Then told things aren't as good as they used to be
We're told so many different things
That it's getting to me

We're told well-meaning things
We're told things by those in power
We're told things will be alright
And that the world will end in an hour

I'm starting to tell myself
Those who told me much when I as small
Maybe these people
Don't know everything after all

I will not end these thoughts, dear reader
By telling you what you must do
You will have been told many things
Which advice you take, is up to you

our challenges are as unique as our gifts

our challenges are as unique as our gifts


I don't know about you, but I focus on the challenges I face
I obsess over my obstacles and the turns taken in my race
When I think of the path I've taken, I think of the doors that were locked
Where I've forced them open and where I have been blocked


our challenges are as unique as our gifts


And when I look at others, I'm often prone to jealousy
I see wonderful gifts and talents that seemed to miss me
But I also wonder about the things people struggle over
On things I did easily or if I forget how tough they were


our challenges are as unique as our gifts


We all have different scars. We've healed in different ways.
Some folk do in seconds what takes other people days.
Your heroes all had flaws but were likely bettered by the battle
You can learn from all people but beware that they are brittle


Our paths through life are our own. We live in different shifts
And remember, dear friend, all people's challenges are as unique as their gifts.

It's hard to listen

Ok, let's be real. Sometime it's hard to listen.
To glisten from a set of vibrations
From a thousand possible intonations
Which was the source's intention

And during this to keep your mind blank
Nothing as frank and distracted as the brain
To monologue shamelessly when you hear a refrain
Then fill you with anxiety when they have to repeat again

Clear your mind
Hear the words
Let clarity form

But what are words given without a reply?
You formulate inside what you want to say
To ensure the conversation steers a certain way
Onto a field you know how to play

No. Listen. Your time will come.
In fact, change that thought
Listening to others is also your time

It's your time to evolve
To incorporate a perspective
That is not your own

But not matter how much you try
Your thoughts stack high with your mission
Though it feels like it needs a magician
Know that it is tough, but worth it, to listen.

Time spent well

This poem is dedicated to time spent well
Since time is the resource we can't help but sell
Despite this, some cling to it with the tightest grip
Only to find it wasted as it begins to slip

Treasure the moments you enjoy, even the ones you'll forget
Celebrate life instead of finding things to regret
Though it is folly to capture a moment that is passed
It is no bad thing to pay a small visit to the past

Dear friend. I know I enjoyed spending time with you.
And I can only hope you enjoyed the time too
We both spent time to buy a small duration together
And though time is fleeting, history lives forever

Truths are tricky, but I believe this one is clear
Time spent well leads to memories you hold dear



For Matt, a poetry friend in Christ

To know another

Here I am
I am me
I know myself
(well, mostly)
I'd like to know more

How?
By hearing tales
True, false
But all capturing
Seeing myself
Parts of myself
In the story

I began small
My mind was inelastic
I saw myself
In people like me
But me with small changes
It turns out
In media
There are a lot of people like me

Now, I expand
I want to grow more
To see myself with different histories
With different presents
With different futures
See myself as people
whose angle on the world
is different from my own

Is it guilt?
Why represent all angles?
While I started small
I can now take big strides.
I want others to be able to start small too
It is a luxury some don't have
And I will try to take big leaps to their starting steps

Together, we will travel the same path
At least a while
Until that time
When I must return to my own mind
We can share an experience
Know more of what it is to be someone else
And so
Know more of what it is to be ourselves

What's bothering me?

Dear me
What's bothered you today? What's got under your skin?
Was it worth all the effort to hold that discomfort within?
It takes energy and time to hold on to discontent
It may be hard but often worth it to relent

Cause something happens if you hold onto hate inside
If you let negativity come along for a ride
You know this man, it's not good for the brain
You've got a limit of things which you can contain


What's bothered me today? What's got under my skin?
Most of the time, man, dang, it's nothing.
I need to let go, It doesn't deserve retention
It's time to get mad at the things which deserve me attention

See, some anger is worth the effort and energy
To fix inefficiency or find inequality
And it's ok, sometimes, to rage at things which are small
As long as that rage passes, doesn't become your all


What's bothered me this week? What been under my skin all year?
That stuffs rooted deep, and it can turn into fear
Things I can't affect? I need to accept them
So that I can turn my head to the exception

Those things which can only change given a long fight
And even these things shouldn't keep me up at night
But those tasks which only change with much time and energy?
I've found these are the things which it's worth letting bother me.

So, what new thing bothered me today and got under my skin?
It's time to decide. Let it go. Or begin the fight within.

Wordweaver

What is reality?
What is everything before you and me?
People much smarter than I have a theory
That this world before your eyes is only what you see
That everything before you here
Is just what you touch, taste and hear

Reality is filtered through your (yes your) brain
Meaning reality relies on you being somewhat sane
So if the brain in its membrane began to change
Then reality itself would cease to be the same

This world which we observe with our perception
Is only as good as our internal cognition
If I were careful I could give persuasion
And you'd give the world a different description

With just words, I could change reality
Such power usually only lies in fantasy
That all people all magicians, casting tales
Although we have to believe them or the magic will fail

But if the external is really beholden to the mind
Then think of the power a wordweaver could find
And if what I've said, if even an ounce of it seems true
The realise the power that must rest in you

The honour of the struggle

There is honour in the struggle
Of looking the world in the eye and saying
No

No I don't think I will give up just yet
Because I'm more than you think
More than what you're putting me through
I am the things I will do once I emerge

No one struggles without hope
One who is already beaten will lay still
You, fellow struggler, are not beaten
They have not got you yet

You will not win every battle
And some conflicts are not worth getting in to

But for those times, when life insists
That you must not resist
Then, my friend
There is honour in the struggle

Some poems I've had as drafts for a long time. This was a pretty much only a title back from 2014 when I did themed months. It's very different to how it would have turned out if I'd written it back then, curious to know how my style has changed.

Here is a truth

Here is a truth: There are many types of lie
The sinister lie, designed to gain power over another
The regretful lie, to one not ready for reality
The kind lie, to inspire hope where the teller sees none
The slight lie, the barely a lie, the lie so close to true and yet so far

Here is a truth: There is one type of lie
The lie which says that this world is not as you think
This lie is how things should be
Buy into the deception of this lie
Inhabit this fake world together

Here is a truth: There are many types of liar
The entertainer, who spins a fantastic tale
The impostor, scared of who they really are
The powerful, who weaponizes lies to maintain the status quo
The lover, who can't bring themselves to let you know how harsh the world can be

Here is a truth: There is one type of liar
They who lie to themselves about the world and their place inside it
We tell lies because we want them to be believed
Yes by others, but also by us
Because the fake world is one we'd rather live in

Here is a truth: There are reasons to lie
Some of them are even good reasons
And the truth has many angles
Different people favour different approaches
There are many types of truths

Here is a truth: There is one type of truth
The honest truth, the way you perceive the world
No person sees every perspective
Share your angle on the truth with others
So together, you may see the Truth in its entirety

Fantasy

Young child, when you are older, you will realise swords are foolish

That shields are tough to wield

That your prince or princess is often guarded by tougher demons than dragons

That crowns can weigh you down

You will know that this world is not one of fairy tails

You will learn that no hero is too great to be clean of flaws

Yet know you must journey still

Don't let these warnings give you pause

Travel to the land of far far far away

Learn a trade of dashing arts and chivalry

Rise, young squire, the night is young

Act reckless, but with bravery

Like all, you were chosen. Here is your task. A burden. 

Seek the greatest challenge you can in that land

You must best it, young prodigy

Emerge a much finer human

And then, when it is time to return

Bring back some fantasy of your own

And you will make a little brighter

This imperfect world we must call home

Own story

I feel like everyone I meet is trying to write their own story
But, it's more like a graphic novel. Or even more than that.
We don't just have words on each page. There are pictures and action and athleticism and movement and code and
Well, memories.

I would love to be good enough at art that I could tell my story with drawings
Because I've seen people who tell their story with drawings
And, I'm not going to lie
It looks bloody awesome

Some act out their story, and rewrite it in the retelling
Others dance their tale
Or let it rise and fall with music they've created
Some people write their story in imprints left on others

No one writes their story in one medium
And no one's story makes sense, unless you've followed from the very start (and even then)
Some people tell their story at such a pace it scares me
Others seem to go slow, and then take an oblique turn if I look away

You, dear reader, have a story
That can only be told in your way
I hope one day, you'll let me witness it
So that my story can include me learning yours

Another life

If I have another life on Earth after this, which person will I be?
I wonder if time always flows linearly
And maybe, just maybe, I'll interact with a younger me
One who was having a bad day and acting callously

Would I have acted differently?
Should it really matter philosophically?
If the actions we do to others, somewhere down the line
May one day be done to us, as that body holds our mind

It may be self-centred, but I tend to find
It helps me be a little more forgiving, give others more time
Some may discard this notion of this fanciful rhyme
I'd ask you to listen once more as I opine

It's very easy to keep acting as you do and hold your pride
But if you realised your impact on other you may decide
That though we are imperfections with good meanings on the side
It's worth the effort, for how you make others feel inside.

A cup of coffee

Is this a cup of coffee I hold before me?
Oh what dangers lie within
What wonders it would be
To indulge just once in sin

To cheat the day
To disrupt the rhythm
But within each cup
I build a schism

Do not cheat the sandman
He who claims his debt
You garner his interest
Only with regret

This bitter brew through which some claim life
This source of sleepless savoured strife
So much potential, and yet I think
I will resist from this much-loved drink

An island of my own

I will find an island of my own
From the hustle of the crowd
Decorate it with silence
Leave the inhabitant wowed

It will be my refuge
From the storm that is to come
A place to heal my wounds
If the battle is not won

And in this island of my own
This place that only I have known
That I need as my place to hide
I have some small room set aside

So that if you need some shelter too
I have an island to share with you

Give Love a try

I sat two tables from the dingy counter, a warming drink in hand
Watching the Advocates at work, my angry retort fully planned
You may have seen them too, trying to spread their infectious word
Theirs the most dangerous idea, that you have ever heard

They've converted half this hiding place to their dangerous belief
When one's eyes finally grab my face, and spots my open grief
They take the other by their hand, give an affection squeeze through their glove
Walk over. Stop. Evangelise. "Excuse me. But have you heard the good word of Love?"

I force a fake smile, and watch the smaller one recoil slightly
"No." Too brutal. Kinder. "Tell me" I say much more politely.

Silence. I think they know I mistrust them, but they can't back down.
Heavy is the heart that follows the head that wears the crown.

"Love is..." they start, and sigh. I see them gain peace of mind.
"Love is the most wonderful thing that any being could ever find
Love is your destiny, and has been since your birth
Love gives more rewards than anything on Earth
It's the reason you wake up, it's better than your dreams
It fills you up inside and it leaves you bursting at the seams
Love is truth, Love is life, Love could never lie
So please, I ask you, wont you give Love a try?"

I can't hold it any longer. Their smiles are far too sweet.
Smiles which don't leave their face as I rise quickly from my seat

"You speak of love and all it does when it's requited and in good times
But love is the reason for many of history's most unforgivable crimes
I've seen hearts never recover from an honest rejection
I've seen good women slaughtered as an object of affection
Suicides from people who Love but were never meant to be together
Countless deaths on the hands of Love that stretch on for forever"

The Advocates look shocked. I see them, standing there
One opens their mouth. I interject "No, don't you dare.
Don't you tell me that it's worth it, that it's worth all the pain
Look at all the agony ever inflicted by love's name
I've seen factions form from fellows who think folk should only love a certain way
Fighting follows love like night follows day."

"So how is it worth it. Tell me, please.
How can something so soft bring grown men to their knees?
I've seen the rough and tumble and I believe I want no part
Of this cult-ish obsession that has infected both your hearts."

They respond before I can stop them, "But have you known Love before?
And what wonder it is to have someone you adore?"

"Of course I had tried love. Once. A long time ago.
What. We all have. And I learnt what we all know.
That Love betrays. That Love is an infection.
So now I don't want Love. Or any of this affection."

"But affection is something every person needs
To want to feel another's touch is nature, not greed"

"Love is a drug! And sure, I've relapsed on occasion
But after the highs I felt the lows, so I feel no persuasion"

"Love is perfect, but the people practising it are not
Yet these flawed people deserve something which you seem to have forgot
That life is at its hardest when you try to do it without another
Another flawed individual you can call friend, and lover"

"I'm an addict! And here you are trying to make me relapse
You must know, a desire to re-Love runs through every synapse?

"Then why stay away, based on what others have done in Love's name?
Do you think we followers of Love don't also feel history's shame?
So why do you think that we find Love in our hearts still?
Because Love, true Love, conquers all, it's our calm and our thrill"

"We're not saying Love is easy, that you have to Love right now
Just that we find Love pleasing, and that it saves us somehow
So we pray that for you, if Love should come along
You'd be willing to try its song again, it doesn't have to be for long
We're sorry for what you've gone through, we understand it is tough
But give Love one more chance. That should be enough"

And before I could retort, they turned and left.
Leaving me alone, and leaving me feeling bereft.
I know what Love can do, that it can drive you insane.
And yet. And yet. Maybe. Just once. I could try Love again.

Aesop Inspired

I saw a person panic about pursuing a dream, not realising they were ready already

And I saw a shadow sure that they stuttered their steps but I could see from their silhouette that their steps were steady

I knew a kind man willing to take a bold stand on his own for the grandest vision

But he insisted on waiting for some unknown person to come along and give him permission

Well, if you've been waiting for a nobody, then here I am.
Because I'm telling you: 

It's time for you to rise. It's time for your anxiety to take a knee

You are not the lack of self-confidence that you so often think yourself to be

Paint a self-portrait in oils that don't run if you treat them right

Never underestimate the power of light so shine like the sun you were supposed to become this dark night

It's going to take a path with no map which is a difficult road to take

And the habit of not being brave is a difficult one to brake
Some people want to live a comfortable life that doesn't stretch them too far
But we still feel stress and strife because we're human and for some bizarre reason it's who we are

So it's time to make a shelf worth of memories that you can be the first to display

It's time to stop watches from ticking away yet another two rotation day

A crowd watches in anticipation, will our hero get out of their own head?

Or cling tight rooted to life planted in a flower bed

So take advice from this daffodil that poked its petals through concrete

You don't make grey have colour unless you bring the colours come to compete

Those distant rainbows which illuminate horizon skies

Are just illusions until you leave your raindrop and rise

I've seen people panic about pursuing a dream,
And many (maybe most) give up with barely a scream

But if life is a play, you must seize the pen from your heart

And realize that no one can stop you from writing your own part

Travelling

I love diving into a new culture

Visiting a city for the first time

Admiring the art and architecture

The story of the polish and the grime

I love finding what makes a place unique

Even when those things are off the main track

It's not just sheer adventure I seek

What I love most is that which I bring back

That part of my mind which had to expand

To encompass a new type of lifestyle

An island of my brain for this new land

But the thing that always most makes me smile

Is meeting great people in every place

They who truly give a culture its face