We're all broken

We're all broken
But we're also fixing
In little bits at little times

We may be falling apart in other places
And some bits we never get back together
But there's also pieces you were meant to let go

It's a rough world out there
You'll pick up some wear and tear
The World can shows affection in odd ways

You were never meant to be perfect
None of us were
We're just energy-infused bodies trying the best we can on any given day

Some people break us
Even when they don't mean to
Or even when trying to stitch us back together

It's the worst, if you do that to someone else
You think you can heal the damage
But you just have to let them go

It's all part of growing, living, surviving
Breaking and fixing and breaking and fixing
Until all we are is patchwork and scars

But patchwork and scars can be beautiful 
They show we're trying
Even if it seems tough 

All you can do is try to darn more stitches than you cause
Help out people if they break in a spot that's hard to reach
Leave a little more good in the world than when you arrived

We're all broken
But we're also fixing
In little bits at little times

How to make the perfect Victoria Sponge

The following is my advice for how to make the perfect Victoria Sponge:
open your phone
use google
type in "perfect victoria sponge".
Go from there

Sorry, I can't be anymore help than that.

I like to write poetry about many topics.
I will wax lyrical about all kinds of philosophies.
Try to answer some of the big questions of existence.
I have told long stories that opine in depth about our place in the universe.
Short ones too.
I've written so much it's a shock I haven't run out of ideas.
In the end though, I know my limit.
And while I've written about apocalypses I've never lived through,
About talking planets and trees,
About adventures in skies and seas,
And about having an idea about why it is we're actually all here,

but,

I will never be so brash
or dishonest
as to pretend to you
dear reader
that I know anything
anything at all
about the perfect Victoria Sponge.

You can never behave perfectly

You can never behave perfectly,
So why try at all?
You can never save everyone,
So why try at all?
You will always be doing harm,
So why try at all?

Why are you still trying?
Why haven't you given up yet?
Why are you being kind to people?
Why haven't you given up yet?
Why are you taking the hard route?
Why haven't you given up yet? 

The world is not binary
Though some people see it that way
In a world of black and white
I'm trying to be a lighter grey

We are all on different journeys
We all start as a different shade
While I will never light the world
I will still do my best not to fade

And sometimes the right thing wont make a difference
But it's still important to try
Some questions don't really have any answers
But it's still worth asking why

And it's ok if you're tired
To stop, to breath, to take a rest
To settle for a world that isn't perfect
But a world in which we've tried our best

Make 'em laugh

I want to make 'em laugh
I want to make 'em smile
But doin' so ain't easy
Doin' so takes a while 

Writing jokes is hard
Crafting comedy is art
Sure you can copy a line
But can you create from the heart?

If the mood is right
It's not too hard to shift
But creating from nothin'?
That's the rarest gift

So here's to the easy laughers
For spreading infectious cheer
Here's to the easy smilers
You're always welcome here

And to the crafters who work hard
At the comedic word-by-word
Thank you for your pains
In your mastery of the absurd

The beauty of nature

I have wandered many times down a country lane
Across a field
Along a river
And it is rarely as beautiful as it seems in art

It doesn't have the flowing sweep of a movie B-reel
With audio enhancements to bring whisperings to life
Everything looks like itself
Not a metaphor for a deep grand philosophy

My feet squelch in mud and cow pats
It takes a long time to traverse from gate to gate
The smell of animals living, eating, and the other thing
The birds "sing". But never think to add some variety to their tune.

Well, I did say "rarely". That's not never.
There is another world there. If you look just right.
It does not come as easy to me as others.
But I am learning. I am trying. And nature seems happy to wait for me.

"Friends"

 It's hard to know what a "friend" is these days
Not because people are fake
This isn't a personal slight against anyone
Nor even me being angry

It's just that, well, "friend" has been commodified
The corporation in your screen wants to be your "friend"
So does your boss. Your teacher. 
And your local representative.

I might know online/TV personalities very well
I could tell you how they'd act in stressful situations
Or things they've shared about their personal lives
But they don't know me at all

I know people I haven't seen in years
But we'd chat for hours if we ever met again
Some I was once close to
Some I'd like to be closer to

I don't mind having "friends"
They're just different things
To real,
loving,
friends

Hurting friends

I have friends that are hurting
Who I don't know how to heal
The pain is often hidden
But I know it is still real

I wish that I knew more medicine
Or that hugs could cure all pain
That good days always outnumber bad
Or age would not make us wain

I have friends that are hurting
Who I don't know how to heal
Sometimes all I can do is listen
So I can share the pain they feel

The hustle

You see the shuffle in the hustle is that you believe in muscle
That they never break, are never fake, and always serve to make folk quake
That injury is perjury - you're just not taking this seriously
Because the grind that you find is all purely in the mind

But it's not.

It's...it's just not.

Don't get me wrong it's great to be strong and to feel like you belong
To work tough and earn enough on the strength of *your* stuff
But being flash to earn cash feels like the route to a crash
And survival of the fittest feels restrictive in what goals are then permitted 

I'm not saying you shouldn't improve or find a groove 
Or that it's a bad identity to build a better "me"
But the one-against-all? What happens when you fall?
What of the virtue of vulnerability? Of the safety in community?

Burnout is real. I've learned this the hard way.
To work on a problem all night and all day.
"Easy" ain't bad to indulge in for a while.
"Easy" work still needs to be done. Even if it's making a smile.

I want to work on my passions. Not on what gets me status.
I want to be me. Not just the greatest and latest.
So I can till be me when what I am is not the "in-trend"
So that I can be genuine. Myself. Not fake and pretend.

I can work sublime in the times when I do have to grind.
It's not that I'm unable to sit at the table of your fable.
I just chose instead to spend my time when breaking bread.
Crafting a path that is so non-direct it could make you laugh.
But the hustle? I've found it toxic. Not a place I want to go.
Let me build others up around me, even if I have to build slow.

She could never believe she was beautiful

she was one of those women who could never believe she was beautiful
because too many years of being told "you're never pretty enough" will do that to a girl
and that girl will blossom into a woman
who will never see herself in the mirror. Just the advert of what she could be. Maybe.
if she just tried a little harder or a little longer or was born with better genes
but she was already trying so hard and so long
and she saw the beauty in her mother or her young daughter
but couldn't see it in herself
if she was beautiful by accident on an evening
it was the lipstick or the mascara
or the expensive dress 

she'd been lied too by too many men who could only see her surface beauty
and couldn't hear her closest friends when they told her in confidence about her inner beauty
she'd learned to brush off compliments and insults as jokes
because being genuine meant opening herself up to even more scars
even though her scars were beautiful too
telling a criss-cross pattern of her survival in a world that was too harsh to her
the flower that had been told she was a weed
by TV and teachers and crushes and herself.

but she was beautiful. Even if she couldn't see it.
she brought fresh air to a world of smoke
light to others even if she was in shadow
and smiles to faces only used to wearing frowns
it was those times of fresh air, light, and smiles
that she would let years of programming falter
and would manage, briefly
To believe, not just that she could one day be beautiful, but that she always had been

***

Inspiration song: July (part one) by Hotel Brooks 

Top 10 of 2022

Stumbled across my poems? Wondering what to read? Well, here are the 10 poems I wrote that meant most to me in 2022. Hopefully you enjoy them too.

Fuck-Up
At one point, I made a pledge to be more vulnerable in my poems. Welp, this is one of those. I don't swear often, which makes it quite fun to use for emphasis when I need to. "Why am I being so vulgar? This isn't me. Fuck." is also probably one of my favourite comic lines I've ever written.

There is a pressure rising
Climate change is probably the issue for my generation. The different responses people have to it from protests to apathy to active indulgence speaks a lot about personal philosophies. But I do feel like the desire for true, active change is rising, slowly but surely. The link between water pressure and societal pressure is a fun one here that I think demonstrated the issue well.

I want to speak on trauma
Life is full of difficult issues. Issues with no answers. I've written on a lot of them before with my thoughts, but I think this is a poem showing how much I've developed on the angle I approach such issues. Nuance is always tough to capture in short poems, which are inherently trying to capture a snapshot on a certain issue. But I think I manage it here - or at least, I manage to take a good step on the path to managing it in future.

30
I reserve the right to keep having existential crises while writing poetry. This isn't quite one of those, but it's close. It's a set of reflections on a life milestone, Maybe some others will find some similarity in their lives too. It makes it worth sharing, I think.

Hypocrites
As I begin teaching and coaching more, I start to have different things in life to reflect on. I need to remember to be kind and that we all make mistakes. And that the reason we make mistakes can be for reasons we don't understand ourselves. We aren't robots. I think too many people forget this.

Prove Myself to Myself
On a similar theme, I need to remember that *I* am not a robot. I have a lot of imposter syndrome. I also have a lot of improving to do. And I'm still trying to find the balance in that.

Christian Correction
Speaking of flaws, I'm including a more religious poem about how Christians should be more accepting than most of things that we are often instead judgemental about. 

Essential Workers
A very 2022 poem. A lot of the world is trying to reset after the initial pandemic readjustment. But, some of those readjustments were good and needed to be made. One big one is where we realised the jobs that are often looked down upon in society are some of the most important of all.

Fake Happy
It's nice to remember that things go well sometimes :)

Acrostic Poem/Haikus
A double to finish - simply because I don't think I've ever written either an acrostic poem or haikus on this blog before. They're more meta commentaries on the form, but also quite nice in their own right. A good reminder to myself to keep trying new poem types.

There we go. There were others I enjoyed, and almost certainly some I missed. If you read this blog, hopefully something I wrote meant something to you as well :)

Christmass

Good glumption and merrythings to you this fine eve
May your singing be most invesant and fully received 
T'is Christmas! T'ist Christmas! Though I just visit your rock
Does not mean I don't feel ribblement right down through each sock

Spread...joy, as you phrase it, to each youngling you see
Not forgetting the oldkin who sits by your indoor tree
But like quantum stones in the ether I opsent two futures ahead
Your vision is shorter, so let me make clariss in my stead

There are many, so many, for whom kindness is all
Who are falling off the edge of your celestial ball
There's a chill than cuts through the carbon you collect
Where food should be placed there is but dust and specks

There is food a plenty, but just not in the right place
There are those coins you adore but not spread through space
The first future I see is not one on which I wish to dwell
The second future is simple - by Christmassy the rest of the year as well

Written while I had the flu, so the nonsense fits in well with my current level of cognition.

And, to anyone moved by this alien's tale, I can recommend Oxford Mutual Aid as one of a great set of places to donate to: https://oxfordmutualaid.org/donate/

Balance

You can be fearful, but you must not let fear control you
You can be joyous, but you must not let joy control you
You can grieve, but you must not let grief control you
You can be angry, but you must not let anger control you

Let emotions well up inside you, let them rise and fall
Experience one then experience them all
Let each take you places you've never been before
Let if fill you up, but don't let it take more

When one takes control, you lose the others
Leave you places you don't want to discover
There more than adventure out there.
It's a dangerous world that often isn't fair.

Yet there are wonders to unlock beyond what you see
It is not moderation, but balance that's the key 

Modern TV

One of the great challenges of adulthood, is accepting you'll never watch everything.
We are genuinely in a golden age of "television" and I love it.
I love that people can lose themselves in worlds.
I love that so many writers and actors are plying their trades.
That shows from anywhere in the world can reach a global audience.
That the old gatekeepers of TV don't have quite as much power anymore.

Some folk seem to have a mystical power to absorb days of content in mere hours.
To have the dedication necessary to see a character through series and series of turmoil.
It's a job. Well, it sometimes feels to me that way. 
I'm scared to try something that I then have to see through to the end.

I like one season shows. It seems more my speed.
The right amount of emotional investment and then get out quick.
I just can't keep up otherwise. It passes me by.

The stories are great. The acting, phenomenal. The visuals, sublime.
The watcher? He takes too many breaks.

I'll never watch everything. And that's ok.

Being a burden

I've realised that I never ask for help when it makes my life easier
Only when it's absolutely necessary
I don't want to be a bother
I don't want to be a burden

And I forget that giving help is one of the greatest things you can show as a friend
I never let people do that
I never want people to think I take their help for granted
So I never take their help

Does it contradict the image I hold of myself?
Do I see it as weakness?
Or do I know how weak I am and not want others to realise?
Affirming how weak I know myself to be

I would rather realise my flaws through self reflection
Than from the kind words of a friend
I'm scared of being too dependent
But I also need to not cut myself off

There is a balance between the two
And I know I have not got it right, for now

Haikus

Haikus are also cool
Because every syllable
is vital. Needed

Some longer poems
Throw words around casually
Artistic debris

A simple haiku?
Any idiot can write
Without too much faff

A good haiku though?
There's crafting behind each line
Good words DOA

There's complexity
Just not in the final verse
And that's a hard trick

Elbow

It's odd, having a broken bone.

I am not out of breath
In fact, I have a lot of energy
Behaving as I behave
I feel perfectly healthy.

It is one flaw. One flaw alone.
A single broken bit of functionality

I could jump if asked.
And I would jump high
Bend my working legs
Then zoom to the sky

I can't rotate my left arm even a degree
The muscle memory keeps making me pained

I can write and draw
I can give a great high five
I can still throw a frisbee
I feel so alive!

I feel so limited. So very restrained.
Like an alphabet missing a letter

I can't wait to go outside
And live life in all it's glory
To embrace with a big hug
The chances that are before me

So I will improve. I must. get. better.

Time to ponder

This morning, I watched a video on the soul
Where science fiction had proposed the transplant
Art had made us question our moral goal
Are we the same person from adult to infant?

And then I put it down. Finished breakfast. And cycled to work.

It felt like I should let the idea dwell in my mind
Say no, I'm sorry, I'm busy today
I have philosophical avenues I'm trying to find
I can't go about on my routine way

Alas, alas, in the Monday-to-Friday nine-to-five
You must clock in your hours
No time for things that make you feel more alive
You are subject to higher powers

It is then, the miracle of our brain capacity
To switch task with only some trouble at a logic gate
Our subconscious will still process while we do our duty
Until we can return to things at a later date.

And, while capitalism is still a foe to fight and
while the minds' flexibility is truly wonderous 
I'm mainly grateful I have time at all to enlighten
Even if it sometimes feels squashed into breakfast

***

Video in question - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMkrrjKf5AE

There is a pressure rising

There is a pressure rising
One that will not be contained
There is a pressure rising
Fuelled by fire and a little shame

"Why did we not act before?
Why aren't we acting now?
Could I be doing more?
How do we make a change? How?"

There is a pressure rising
The leaks begin to show
There is a pressure rising
Where will that pressure go?

"Don't show your outrage like this
Don't show your outrage like that?
Let us live our bliss
Until the day our Earth falls flat."

There is a pressure rising
It bubbles from within
There is a pressure rising
And it will not give in

We can EITHER heed the warning
And go in and face the cause
Now is not the time for mourning
Now is not the time for pause

OR we can prepare to face the day
When all the pressure goes
Takes us out along the way
Punishes for our comatose

There is a pressure rising
It is not going to stop
There is a pressure rising
Without help it will not drop

There is a pressure rising
The leaks already flow
There is a pressure rising
And we know where it will go.

30

I'm 30 now. Thir-ty.
    Feels like a lot of years.
    Feels like a lot of days.
    Feels like a lot of time, in general.

Time in which most people have sorted things out.
But hey, I've been late on deadlines before,
    what's one more deadline to add to the list?

I recently chatted to a lot of people who had just started work
    and all of them were tired.
    and I'm tired too.
    but, well, not in that way, I think.

I've made progress in things.
Just not always the things I was supposed to make progress in.
Carving your own path is great.
Carving your own path also sucks, some of the time.

So, what is it that 30 years means?

I've met a lot of people.
    I even still keep in touch with some of them.
    And though I've yet to commit to someone to spend forever with
    I'm still glad for the time I've spent with those I know.

I've learned a lot of things
    Sure, some people learn quicker than me
    Or are better at using what they know
    Or playing the career game
    But, well, I feel that a lot of what I've learned is worth knowing.
        (or, at least, trivia I could put in a quiz someday).

I've grown a lot physically
    The first few years were the hardest, but I've grown beyond that
    I am still active, still doing sports
        I'm not quite at the level I would like
        And my body may soon start to grow weaker
        But I've got to do some really cool things, and play in some interesting places

I've made a lot of mistakes
    Like, a lot
    And I'm still making them
        Although, they're different mistakes now
    I have some mistakes I think I wont make again

I'm 30. 
I'm still figuring things out.
I don't have many answers yet.
Although, I think I am starting to figure out what the right questions are supposed to be.

The world I don't see

Our eyes are built to scan left to right
It's harder to perceive up and down
It takes effort to see the stars at night
We have to tilt our necks to see the ground

More than that, I feel I am now quite tall
I often see ceilings and seldom my shoes
As a child I saw the world below it all
I saw between the legs of people in queues

I am male, and seldom walk streets at night
So, on my bike, the world seems quite delightful
I don't have to worry, I am rarely in fright
I try to be kind, and am not given reason to be spiteful

I live in the country of my birth, and feel at home
I am not questioning my place here each day
It is a delight to adventure, to go out and roam
Not being judged for behaving a certain way

I see the world a certain way, a privilege for sure
But there still exists the world I don't see
So I'll do my best to listen, to stoop and endure
Being aware of how the world is for those who aren't me.

Big Cats

I was a once a normal man.
Well, as normal as a human can be.
Like many, I was a cat fan.
It brought me joy to pet a kitty.

Alas my folly for fur!
My ego grew too fat
I needed to hear a PURRRR
I needed a bigger cat

At first, it was not too bad
I sought bigger cats of the house
I stroked many a chonky lad
Who would strike fear into a mouse

But then I grew too bold
I searched for lion and lynx
The alure was just too tempting
If possible I would find a sphinx

Sadly, you will be shocked to hear
That it was not a wise idea
I'm wrapped in bandage from toe to ear
And any former furry friend brings me fear

The lesson of this tragic tale of mine?
Don't dream big, always keep your ambition in line
Or, more likely, always check an expert opinion
And, most likely, don't hug cats without their permission 

Pic: A very cuddly looking Lynx. I want to stroke this Lynx. I have not learned my lesson.

Sidequest

This poem is another sidequest
Another thing on that list you keep adding to
To consume it is your test
So you can cross it off once you're through

The list is good! It gets you doing things!
Things different from the day to day
But, well, it's not just a list of things
Goals to complete and then go on your way

You need to slow down. Absorb. Engage. 
Does your quest make you sad? Fill you with rage?

Take your time. Let it expand and exclaim.
Give it the space it deserves in your brain. 

I'm not a fool. The list of quests is often long
And overly long quests are dispiriting
Just remember - giving up on a quest isn't wrong,
but don't assume the next quest wont be riveting

Face to Face

I've always struggle at delegation
And I think partly that's a good thing
Born from a human inclination
To deal with whatever fate will bring

It's only in-person that I ever really see
The consequences of actions and decisions
Whether a fault is really down to me
The harm and help of my ambition

It's nice to be removed, be one step away
Particularly for the tougher decisions in life
Let someone take that tough conversation today
Or slit your food's throat with a bloody knife

I think, we as a society, would be greater indeed
If we could see through all our actions face to face
If we didn't delegate beyond absolute need
And acted as teammates in the human race

***

Inspired by Face to Face by Daft Punk

Things Going Well

I'm not used to things going well
I get suspicious when they do
When my journey seems not to be to hell
But a pleasant experience to go through

It's like, what's next?
What's the twist in this sordid tale?
What problem will leave me vexed
What frustration will make me wail?

Sometimes, things just go good for a little bit
And while it's good to use the downtime as prep
It's also fine to live a little without panic or regret
Take your reward. Be strong after doing your rep

Sure, this too will pass.
But, y'know, don't forget to focus on the "this"
Right now, it's here. It wont last
For now, it's ok to embrace the bliss

Grief

Grief is too important to hold back
But also too important to force
It is genuine, a defence and attack
The body overwhelmed with remorse

I have felt grief in many ways.
Sometimes, when I didn't expect.
Often short, elsewise for days.
But I can't feel true grief as a sign of respect.

Most grief, has been for those I knew.
Family, friends, young, old.
But there are others that broke through.
Essential strangers whose parting left me cold.

Those whose art would come no longer.
An idol whose acts would inspire.
They are rare, for me, leaving grief stronger.
Left me standing a little less higher.

I respect grief a lot indeed
As my companion in the darkest place
Feel grief, if you ever need
And don't, if you need not its embrace

Storyteller

Stories, stories, I wish I could weave a better tale
Sit longer than the time it takes for a rhyme
And craft, chapter by chapter before it grows stale
And I feel I must move on in my mind

Poets of old wrote epics most grand
They would carry on for verse after verse
But, whether prose or not prose, they are planned
And require dedication to which I am sadly adverse

I wish it weren't so. 
I know I could build myself.
Practice commitment to a character.
See an arc which curves slowly over time.
Not be rushed by my self-imposed weekly deadline.
Grow into maybe a more mature author who tells something worth retelling.

But I am comfortable in my silly lines.
And I still feel I like I am exploring new ground.
So, for now, I'll stick with where this path winds.
Although, one day, maybe a longer tale will be found.

Hypocrites

Sometimes my muscles don't work and I don't know why
Like, I want to get out of bed but there I still lie
I'm using my energy, summoning all my mind's strength
Just to find out my body isn't operating on that wavelength

Beyond the many issues I have with mornings and morning people
I want to use this silly story to talk a little about free will
Like, we don't do what's best for us, a lot of the time
Cleaning is effort so what's the harm in a bit of grime?

It's important to remember that everyone does these things
We're hypocrites with every song we try to sing
At different levels, sure. But we can all do better.
No one follows good advice down to the last letter.

I need to remember this - We are people, we have flaws. 
Because I now am often teacher, so I need to give myself pause.
Because, with every good intention, students do things wrong.
Not because they weren't listening, or because they aren't skilled or strong.

We are people. We're odd. Sometimes it's hard to get out of bed.
All that's needed is to remember there's more than machines inside a head.

The virtue of being discontent

I wish for nothing more than almost perfect well-being
That I could experience a near complete serenity
That through 90% of the fibres of my conscious feeling
I could be a satisfied and content entity

I ask this as well though - grant me a dash of discontent
Do not let me be without this small internal unease
A sense that that the world in which I am present
Is still real, for it still has its grime and sleaze

I need that dash, to give me drive
Towards not settling for things as they are
It'll give me purpose, make me alive
And though I may not improve things far

It will ensure that I don't become complicit
That I keep fighting for my friends
So that ideally they too can all also elicit
A near complete contentment in the end

This is the tale of someone always beginning

This is the tale of someone always beginning
Always starting strong
Ready with an intro to anything they're singing
Never the whole song
Let me tell you, I've never seen a jack-of-all-trades
So truly master of none
Beautiful skylines on paintings that all quickly fade
As if only just begun

There is an adrenaline rush that strikes synapses
When starting something new
So they build and build and then of course it collapses
As these things tend to do
Do they persevere? No. Where's the rush in that?
Where's the inspiration?
The old idea is already old hat, deflated and flat
And would need perspiration.

Look, sometimes ideas must be let go
Don't cling on to things all the time
But just once, resist, control the flow
Dictate the nature of the desired rhyme

Sometimes, it'll need hammering into form
Find a project worth pouring the self in
Learn how to whether the inevitable storm
Don't stop. Not this time. Not with this thing.

There is often no rush in finishing
Just exhaustion. Relief at being finally done
It requires more than just wishing
It'll require more than one moon and one sun
Long projects absorb identity
And don't let it come back for a good long while
But it'll release eventually
Then look back at what has been done and smile

And then, and then,
After a rest to piece a functioning person back together
That point is when
The start, the rush, that new-project pleasure
It'll feel different now
For a project has been start while knowing
The somewhere, somehow
This is the tale of a person that sees projects to their end

Maturity

What a joy it is to be past that awkward stage of growing up
Where, for the sake of marking a point in time
We decide that we no longer like those stories we liked when we were younger
Because we are mature now

But those things defined us, made us who we are
Even if we do grow past it, we never really grow far
Joy and Adventure are still fantastic parts of life
Even if we now balance them with bills and strife

Love the tales illustrated with gorgeous drawings
Love more nuanced things, but don't love being boring
Revisit old haunts to see angles that you didn't before
Cry openly at sad tales but smile openly even more

Silly rhymes and ditties may have more meaning on reflection
You will be richer for giving your inner child some introspection
Be passionate about something the adult world refuses
Don't wait until parenthood, and don't worry about excuses

You are the only person setting up barriers about what you consume
Yes, we need some barriers and filters because there is so much in this World
But don't let yourself miss out on the silly and the simple
Be actually mature. And embrace it all.

The escape

Sometimes, I want to write poetry as an escape
Because I have one feeling in my mind
And it's STUCK in there

So, I grab my keyboard
(not as dramatic as a pen but it'll do)
I sigh loudly before I sit down

It doesn't work
It never works
Not at first

I sit with that one feeling
Occasionally, I don't escape
That one feeling becomes my poem

Other times though, it morphs
I find a different angle
Create a different take

I find freshness out of monotony
Things become less stale
Slowly. Almost accidentally.

The poet's escape is a difficult trick
Like many tricks, it is skill and determination
And there is magic in it

Lonely sometimes

We're all lonely sometimes.
But there's nothing stopping us being lonely together

Sit alone with me awhile
As we each go through our own bad weather

It's a big world out there
And it's also a big world inside here

Come, be alone with me
So that you're not alone in your hope or your fear

The future is scary
Although I think the past was too

The present is less so
Because I'm doing it with you

The devil and the angel

On each shoulder, famously, rest an angel and a devil
Fighting for your delicate soul
They argue with each other for you to take your angle
To achieve their eternal goal

I love the poetry of this, the great debate that rages
Just behind the eyes
But this fact has also been true throughout the ages
One we should all realise

The devil is not on our shoulder, but inside our head
The devil is simply me and you
We like to pretend such evil couldn't be ourselves
Surely that couldn't be true!

The angel is not on our shoulder, but inside our head
The angel is simply me and you
We like to pretend such virtue couldn't be ourselves
Surely that couldn't be true!

We have potential so vast it goes beyond what we've seen
We struggle to see it all
We are good people. We are bad people. We're everything in between.
We are the rise and fall

Don't be afraid to prevent yourself from doing great harm.
Don't be scared to admit you have done great good.
You will ride the waves of anger, passion, and even calm.
Through it all, you will have been yourself. Just, be the best yourself you could.

Some days, life is struggle.

Some days, life is struggle.
It happens, but the day must go on.

It can be because of bad brain chemistry that day
It can be because you forgot to eat or had to get up early
It can be just a lot of things being thrown at you at once
It can be for no reason at all

On the bad days which are good, you can fight back
Take on one task at a time
Look back at sunset (or later)
And realise the day was conquered

Other times, you aren't so lucky
And so that day will pass
The next day will come
One day, hopefully, you will find a day without struggle

This is an acknowledgement of the bad days
And a celebration of the good
To the people we trust to help us make it through
Even if they're going through a struggle-day themselves

Some days, life is struggle.
It happens, but the day must go on

Prove Myself to Myself

I still haven't proven myself to myself
And I'm tryin' to figure out if that's a good thing
If I find I've lived up to internal expectations
Will I stop my inward looking?

It would be nice, by now, to feel goal achieved
Tick, done, I've finished what I begun at age zero
Be working comfortable with hard-earned skills
Tackling tasks after completing the journey of a hero

Maybe changing a bit here and there
But something close to the finished product on display
Alas, alas! I feel like a first (maybe second) draft
Still pencils lines sketching my path with dismay

Maybe that's good. Maybe there's a balance.
Maybe I'm spending too much time in my head.
Stop thinking expectations of myself,
And just embracing the unexpected journey instead.

I don't know if I'll ever prove myself to myself.
I hear he remembers all your mistakes and regret
But when you carve your own path,
It's some of the only feedback you get

***

So I will try to be a bit kinder to this work-in-progress
And let him realise that the end goal is but one on the path
Beyond goals, there are more important things to embrace.
People to love. Memories to remember. Moments to Laugh.

For those who are uncomfortable

If I see a bear walk from afar, I do not retreat from fear
Just because I am aware what will happen if it draws near
We are adverse to danger, because it can cause us harm
While it it true that fear can help us, we can also act while calm

I know this sounds so simple, but I see it every day
Folk ask if I'm uncomfortable because I act a certain way
No. Simply based off all the evidence that I know
I'm acting in the kindest way that I think I can show

I know they're trying to be considerate, I would be the same
So I'm trying to do my best to ensure I don't cause shame
Just simply and straightforwardly explaining my action
That my motives are considered and not an emotional reaction

But my ethics don't change because I'm tired (to the best of my ability)
Even if it seems strange or unsocial, I'll try my best to act consistently.

Essential Workers

A couple years ago, the world fell to its knees
And the changes brought with it the odd quirk
See, while most of us just stayed inside
Some people remained, to do essential work

This work had always been essential
It was just more commonly seen as mundane
Low skilled? Low paid? Replaceable?
We required it all the same

For a little while, we were less entitled
We gave these workers their due
Much of society we could get by without
But not these hardworking few

.

And now? The work is still essential
A fact we seem to have forgot
The old structures are reforming
Trying to reclaim their lot

Remember, remember, not so long ago
I know there was much distraction and strife
But it was a lesson worth learning in society
Whose services we actually need in life

Finish what you write

Finish what you write
And then write more
Don't be caught up
In a one-task chore

It may not be good
It just must be done
Finish it now
Start a new one

Later? Rework
Edit if life inspires
Don't be unfinished
It'll quell all desires

Finish a section
Finish with a cry
This work will be done
The end is nigh

Designed

Sometimes I forget
    That all things follow designs
We hollowed out the Earth
    And filled it carefully with mines

We can knit in careful patterns
    To make a scarf or hat
Interweaving narrow threads
    With surgery through skin and fat

Some folk made with delicate craft
    Rockets to carry humanity to space
We studied how the air flows
    To make us faster in each race

I try to remember good designs
    So that I do not despair
At the men who design weapons
    With great craft and care

When I read of history
    About the atrocities we've done
I see a person with my learning
    Wielding a pen like a gun

Chemical weapons were designed
    As was fertilizer for our bread
We choose our own impact
    So let's design things for good, instead

***

I recently read Maus by Art Spielman. It is a very beautiful and haunting graphic novel, detailing both Art's relationship with his (Jewish and Polish) father, and how his father survived during the war. Overall, it is a tale of survival and grim circumstance. In one frame, Art includes a small building plan of a crematorium. For some reason, it struck me how each element in this building (and in all the mechanisms) were indeed designed and planned. May I be granted the wisdom to never be involved in such designs myself.

Passport

Passport:
Name.
Date of Birth.
Country of Origin.
Picture.
Some simple truths to form your ID.
But, well, I don't really feel like that's really me.

I get it. It's a unique identifier.
A quick way to check if I'm a lier.
But no human who just met me would remember,
Whether I was born in October or November.

It doesn't say if I'm kind, or if I work too hard.
Next to my secret numbers on my credit card.
And it doesn't say what music I would prefer,
When legally driving, alone or chaffeur.

If I'm carrying something to show who I really am.
It'd be nice to have fun facts, like my favourite jam!
Or maybe some passions that get me up in the morning.
It could be useful to say whether I snap without warning...

Then again, gently putting privacy issues to one side
This poetic idea is one that would never have survived.
It's not that the beauty wouldn't make our passport stronger.
Just the fact it would make airport queues even longer.

Ruler of the Realm

King, Queen, Monach of your realm
Why do you rule as you do?
For that land which you keenly helm
Is there love, and order too?

Mayhap you have a throne
Or maybe no place to rest
In this place you call your own
Is it kept at its best?

Do you tend it for viewers,
To not seem unsightly to their eyes?
Do you hold things in place with skewers
That prick you, but they don't realise? 

I wonder if you in fact are aware
It is you, and solely you who rule
It is you who must decide to care
And whether to be sage or fool

One more canvas

I'm just trying to make something
So why is it so hard?
I'm just trying to put down thoughts
It's words. Just words. That's all they are.

I've accepted that not every week will work
That sometimes I'll make a poem just for me
Still. It's a struggle.
Me vs one more canvas I have to beat.

And because I'm a bitter man.
I refuse to let the canvas win.
Great - I manage something.
Next week it will be back again.

Sometimes it's a joy.
I've had months where I can't wait for each poem to be heard.
Other times it's one poem at a time.
One more verse. One more line. One more word.

But here's the thing I have to remember:
Those poems made through struggle? Some are treasures.
Not all. Many I want to forget.
But it's worth it for the ones that I remember.

It's why I try so hard.
Why I'm still writing right now.
Create. Later me can improve it if he wants to.
For now, just get something down.

Freedom of debate

Is there anything richer than fruitful discussion?
Ideas flow like music, with words the percussion
A shared venture which leaves all involved enlightened
Leaving at last with one's philosophy heightened

But it is a bitter fact that must be recognized
Not all discussions are worth being realized
I used to treasure all debates in a manner quixotic
As I now realise some simply end up as toxic

I am not scared to debate you. It's just not worth my time.
You don't seek a shared truth, you want to disprove mine.
You're willing to attack me, as well as my thought
If you think it'll garner you an upper hand in the court

All are welcome to say and think however they chose to
And, if you're just in your ways I'd love to chat with you
But free speech does not mean you get to yell in my ear
So please, be quiet. Lest you disturb the discussions happening here.

Inspiration: https://psyche.co/ideas/in-nyaya-philosophy-only-some-debates-are-worth-having

I want to speak on trauma

I want to speak on trauma, but I don't know what to say
I don't want to see my friend suffering then go about my way
But I've still got so much learning so much listening I need to do
Before I can give help, I've got some growth I need to go through

So that I never pretend I can simply swoop in with the save
So that I know there's no magic wand I can pretend to wave
But I still want to bare their burden, help a little off their load
Walk a while in their shoes and help ease some debt they've owed

When I do speak on trauma, I will show I truly care
To be a friend in need by being a friend who is there
To not speak down in platitudes, not say things that are empty
To accept that some small words of kindness can still be plenty

When I do speak, I want to speak with no regret.
I want to speak on trauma. But I know I can't do so yet.

Never Settle

I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that I may never settle
Live a life where I'm constantly shifting and testing my mettle
Always dancing avoiding blows, even absorbing one or two 
Acknowledging this weary life I have chosen live through
So get up, get up time to face another harsh ray of sun
Accept wrinkles that come from smiling at someone
It'll keep coming full waterfall, it'll wear me down
But it'll never wear my determined grin to frown
I may have a little less to give each day's grind
I am left with the growth it's given my mind
I'll never fade away, so long as I stand tall
Never settling is rising from every fall
It isn't comfortable, I'm sure I know
Always trying to adapt and grow
But it means you have no floor
You can overcome any flaw
Never stopping the path
This is infinity math
I think you'll be ok
Going your way
Just stay true
Stay you

Learn from History

Most times, when we learn from history, we learn from its mistakes
About the falls, about the slips, about the cracks and about the breaks
"This is the ego that lost the battle, that made the empire fall"
But let us not forget that there is more that we must call historical

We do not record in ancient tomes the smiles shared on a weary morning
And while I think that it is right that we write down all the tragedy and mourning
It should not be eccentric to look at jokes and parties and songs and plays
Or appreciate the leaps inventions had to take even if commonplace today

If we do not appreciate how smart and brilliant our ancestors have been
We may fall into the folly of ego by thinking of our ourselves with a sheen
I do not think it is purely doom to repeat that which is done in the past
Though care should be taken to ensure any repeated step is not our last

Progress is fantastic, but when we ponder why such progress was not made before
Let us find a real answer, such as the difference in technology or prevalence of war
Not simply that it was beyond our parents parents parents parents intellect
Because I've read some of their stories and I'm filled with respect

Simply know that the grandparents of grandparents were not savages
I would loved to share a tale or two despite the difference of our ages
While I'm not ignoring advances in medicine or equality that we've done
I still want to pay my tributes to the steps to help us be who we've become

No mask

 I often wonder if people notice
Those days when I wear a mask
Where I'm tired in the brain
And I don't know what to ask

I'm available now for a limited time
But I hear that stocks wont last
I'm trying to power myself on a sail
That can only reach half mast

Yet even running on fumes
I must add to life's collage
So my todo's don't become neverdo's
I battle on at reduced charge

Poetry does not flow when tired
Instead I fight for every line
This poem has no mask 
But it is truly mine.

***

On rereading this poem, I'm going to clarify that this is about dramatic masks, and not hygienic masks. 

Christian Correction

A question to my fellow followers of Christ
I was not made with perfect eyes
They started good, then to my surprise
My vision began to glass and ice

Now, I live in an age of invention
Where glasses can correct my vision
Such that I can act with a precision
Matching those gifted with ocular perfection

I was not made in my finished form
I had to grow a little, after I was born
Challenges have left my wits torn
But it's ok. We grow. We reform.

So, if all the above seemed uncontroversial
Let me ask if there is any difference at all
Between other matters, mental and physical
Where we need help as a imperfect individual?

You are not unloved if you need drugs for anxiety
Gender dysphoria does not mean you lack piety
We are flawed. That's part and parcel of humanity.
That faith is beyond that? That, to me, is Christianity.

Respect

 I'll respect you if you respect me
And then we'll both have respect you see?
But what type of respect is it I should show?
There's more than one type of respect you know.

I think you're asking for respect for authority
That I should act with reverence and piety
Follow your orders and do what you say
The respect for which obedience is the way

And the respect you're giving me is not that at all
Instead it's the respect you give a near-equal
Simple courtesy, like you listen when I speak
Understand if I'm upset of have a difficult week

But you wont do what I say. Nor should you.
Sometimes in life there are hierarchies to abide to.
I just want you to understand you don't speak honestly
by saying that if I respect you, you'll respect me

Fake Happy

Sometimes it's a struggle to convince people I'm not fake happy
I'm just, y'know, happy

That's not to say I don't feel down sometimes or insecure
Not to say I don't have imposter syndrome a mile high
Just that when I take a step back and breath and appreciate things
I'm ok with being insecure

While I can (and have before) listed all the things in my life that could be better
I do miss several friends I wish I could live closer too and talk more with
And I'm not as good at this skill and I'm not as good at that skill
Not to mention I feel like I'm not where I'm supposed to be in my passions
Or that I sometimes feel like I'm struggling with work when others manage more easier
And, yeah, things could be better

But I've got to appreciate the good place I'm in right now
I am working on projects I enjoy with people who inspire me
I'm still on a journey in faith, but I'm enjoying the steps I'm taking
I'm getting to meet many new friends and know my family better too
So, when I think about the right now

Sure, there's nuances to the term, but I'm happy to say I'm not wearing a forced smile
It's genuine. Most of the time, at least 🙂

Wydale

Lord, things are going well, and I am truly blessed
Lord, things are kind of tough, and I am truly stressed
Lord, I must be grateful for the windfalls of life
Lord, I confess that I am struggling with strife

Should I just be thankful for what I have received?
Should I be upset when I feel like I'm deceived?

Life is balance, and I feel tipped to one side
Lord, I need your help. I need you on my side.

***

A poem I wrote on a weekend away with St Mikes. It was longer, but I think this bit alone captures the essence.

Rave

What music do we dance to tonight?
Why, we move to the boom of the end days
The apocalypse sparkles fiery bright
Join the building as it bows and sways 

Take the echoing drums of war
Let it resonate in our soul and bone
Rave like you never have before
Embrace these chthonic tones

There must always be light. There must always be joy.
We must find silver in the greyest cloud
So to every non-binary, girl or boy
We must be human, especially if not allowed

Our feet may tap on unstable ground
The unwelcome future shall advance
Let's take the discordant symphony we've found
And despite it all, we shall dance

***

Inspired by Skeller - Waste. Also just by me trying to process things in the world, as always,

Moments that matter

Life is made up of these moments that matter
Those moments when your world seems to teeter or fall
Those moments where your soul holds its breath while your brain tries to keep up
And time doesn't move at all

And then the clock ticks
Life moves a moment then a minute
The world is turning under your feet
Do you move with it?

Life is made up of moments and then life after those moments
Where you have to live in the moment's memory
Do you let it affect the way you interact and reflect?
Or not let yourself be overrun by an instant in time's sea

Just remember you have the ability to change any given day
Life is continuous, even if it's hard to picture it that way

A country

What is a country after all?
A border. And enclosed within.
There. A leader. Powerful. Tall.
In charge of virtue. And sin.

No. Are the people all the same?
Do they all sing the same song?
Are their bodies the same frame?
Are they a faceless, voiceless throng?

Within the borders of a nation see
not just caricature and stereotype
but an ever-changing history
with a new page written tonight

See the shopkeeper bawling from their lungs
the mother and brother hugging one another
maybe calling in different tongues
but more like us than like an "other"

Too easy, in the past, we forget this
we forget a country's cultural riches
because we have to. We can't remember any more.
Not if we are to fight their country's leader's war.

Horse riding

I don't think I've ever ridden a horse
It seems a little scary to me
I've seen many people do it of course
And do it most effortlessly

It seems so simple, on the screen
What it takes to foil a foal
Galloping around in grass so green
With complete and utter control

I am not a protagonist in a movie
Even if I think I have some witty lines
I know things would not go smoothly
If I were to suddenly embrace the equine

I could learn. But slowly. At my pace.
A horse is not a meerly tool to wield.
Maybe success wouldn't be winning a race.
Just trotting gently around a field.

I don't think I've ever ridden a horse
It seems a little scary to me
I'll give it a try, if it's on my life's course
And embrace the difficulty

Acrostic Poem

Allow yourself space
Creativity will begin to flow
Rarely will it be easy
Often it will be slow
Still. It will come. You'll see.
Take time, don't race
I can't out-create you. Nor you, me
Come forward, art!...at your own pace.

Please, love whatever you make
Own everything about it, even the flaws
Even if you know where it would break
Make something. Make it yours.

***

A request from a friend. I don't think I've written an acrostic poem yet on this blog, so nice to make myself work in another form :)

A drummer

I've been told a look like a drummer
I'm not sure what this means
Is it just that I have long hair?
And the smartest thing I wear is jeans?

Maybe, instead, it's something else
I look like someone blessed with rhythm
I mean, I guess I am good at counting
But I can't split time through a prism

Or I look like someone dependable
Who keeps the base for others to rise
A friend to others? A hidden talent?
I wonder how I look through other's eyes

The truth will out, and they are sadly wrong
Drumming is not the role I play in song
Maybe I am wrong? Maybe I should try? 
Still, it's nice to be thought of, even if I know not why.

Fuck-up

Some days I just feel like a fuck-up
How can I not?
I look around and see everyone else.

People who are funny. 
People who are attractive.
People who are athletic.
People who seem to have faith figured out.
People in relationships.
People who own houses.

Fuck.

Why can't I get my shit together?
Why am I trauma dumping in a poem again?
Why do I struggle to get out of bed some days?
Why is it such a struggle to meet people sometimes?
Why am I being so vulgar? This isn't me.
Fuck.

Some days I just feel like a fuck-up
But some days ain't all days
There are always good days as well.

You get a sense that you're not just treading water, but actually moving.
Maybe you got a sense that you made a friend's life was a little richer.
Maybe you made someone smile.
Maybe you got your laundry done.
Heck, maybe you got some external validation.
    and I know you shouldn't go seeking external validation all the time
    but it's still nice sometimes, y'know?

Life is hard. Because your journey isn't anyone else's.
And it very easy to see how far everyone else has managed to travel.
So don't forget to remember the good days.
You will need this memory on the harder days.
    The days you feel like a fuck-up.
    And maybe some days you are a fuck-up.
    Because we're all a fuck-up sometimes.

But you should still appreciate the steps you make.
You are a Fuck Up, but you are also Fantastic.
You are Flawed and you are Phenomenal.
Just remember to sometimes see yourself in the light you reserve for others.

Who to trust?

So, when it comes down to it, who do you believe?
In a world of billions, whose truth do you receive?
There are many places in life where we have to trust
I'll never travel to space or below the Earth's crust
But I'll still accept that there's magma below my feet
That the vacuum of space is devoid of heat
Despite the nuances of all speech which need interpretation
I am utterly dependent on others in language translation
I have never spoken in person to the people inside the TV
So how do I know what global affairs they relay honestly?

My truth is not yours dear reader. I cannot tell you what to think.
But I do not believe that facts will inherently rise or sink
We must seek out and protect those things we see as real
But know which things are malleable and which are steel
There are bad actors in the world. Those who seek money or power.
But many good folk as well, even if flawed or dour.
Reader, I'm still searching for my Truth
I am scientist, sceptic, citizen, and sleuth
Don't hold hate in your heart, or at least not forever
And we can search for the truth together

Gem Friends

I view my friends as gems
    and not a one of them is perfect
They are cut in weird ways
    they angle in odd directions
You learn over time which rays
    will then refract or reflect
And I love them all through their imperfections

We like to pretend we're pure
    Not a scratch upon any surface
But despite the many marks upon them
    I love how my friends sparkle in the sun
How part of them will glimmer
    with that smile upon their face
And that their pattern imparted on the Earth is unique to every one

It is no easy thing to be honest 
    about how damaged and flawed we are
We pretend that we somehow never hurt
    and are somehow never ill
But it is because I already know
    and I accept their marks and scars
That I know that, whatever comes, I will love my gem friends still

***

Inspired by this lovely tortoise and dino comic

Just a test

Just a test
Of your best
Are you fake?
Best not flake

It's easy
I know me
I can pass
What they ask

Like before
There is more
I am strong
I'm not wrong

Keep going
Keep showing
Don't falter
No fault, yeah?

It is done
Another one
Just a test
Now, to rest

New Year's Resolution

I don't need a new year's resolution
I think I'm happy with the way things are
I don't think a one-off promise or solution
Is going to get me far

There have been times in life I've needed it
From writing poetry to not biting my nails
Each resolution has taken effort and grit
Leading to some success and also some fails

But the best resolutions, don't end after a year
They keep going and going once December is done
I'm still writing weekly, I'll keep recording here
So I don't think I've the energy for another one

I wont make a promise I wont keep
For I want to be a man of my vow
Good luck to you all, may success you reap
I'll join you next year, if circumstance will allow

Find beauty

Hey. Hey you.

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

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

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

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

The photographer

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

I'll do this tomorrow

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me, but younger

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

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

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

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

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

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

Songs that make you cry

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

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

And then

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

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

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

***

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

Your challenge is ready

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

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

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

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

Bitter tastes

I've never been a fan of bitterness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tough Love

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

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

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

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

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

Across humanity

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sword or shield

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

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

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

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

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

Together or Alone

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

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

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

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

Choose kindness

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

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

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

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

Sowing Seeds

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

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

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

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

Sparkless Days

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

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

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

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

Practice

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

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

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

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

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

    

Partial victory

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wake into Sleep

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

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

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

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

Moving

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

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

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

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

Trust the Science

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Searching for God

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

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

And I don't believe He wishes to harm us

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

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

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

The power of winds

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

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

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

The stars don't align

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

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

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

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

Music Theory

I wish I knew more about music

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

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

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

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

And yet. And yet.

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

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

The load

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

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

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

.

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

He is our God!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

The tram

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

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

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

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

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

Binary Goodbyes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Inspired by 1011010100101000 by Jonny 5 + Yak