From that day forth my heart changed…
And a voice echoed.
Give me more….
And if I become alone and frightened…
So be it.
I’ll endure the torment and hardship.
To get to where I want to be.
From that day forth my heart changed…
And a voice echoed.
Give me more….
And if I become alone and frightened…
So be it.
I’ll endure the torment and hardship.
To get to where I want to be.
Consider this a message I never delivered,
After my last one many years I reconsidered,
Would my hateful departure have left you sad,
Or just carried on happy, deluded and mad.
Countless nights and car journeys spent,
Listening to Brand New and imagining us,
How we were, what we did and where we went,
I guess looking back, it may not have been worth the fuss
But I’d never trade one single memory,
For anything else in this world,
Those times were the happiest in my history,
Saddest as well in tears we both often curled,
Into our knees and prayed to be apart.
But the love kept us together for years to come,
Until the constant flights and calls came undone,
Said I’d pushed you too far but I couldn’t help my anxiety,
That I might lose you and by worrying turned it into reality.
Though laced with regrets and butterflies,
I’ll never forget those summer train rides,
After months apart of torment and lies,
Having that moment so close, calmed turbulent tides.
Late afternoon sun spilling into my carriage,
With my holdall clenched with white fists,
Stomach heaving with imaginings of marriage,
How many times I wanted to propose after written lists,
Painted onto paper to balance our joint future hope,
Too bad neither of us could cope.
Two stops away and the anticipation drove me crazy,
Just one stop now until Bayreuth and her waiting lips,
Can’t sit any longer as I march around listening to Daisy,
I see golden hair waving, leap onto the platform and into your hips.
Hey hey, hej hej,
I’ve been neglecting this little space and you must forgive me as I can see from the “Stats” that there is a few of you still checking this solitary corner of the internet… Whether you know me and are looking for some insight that other social media doesn’t give or you are a genuine fan of my work and don’t know me at all – it’s nice to know that there are at least some souls out there interested in my writing..
Well anyway, I type this while sipping a nice glass of Merlot so I’ll indulge in the literary fluidity that alcohol sometimes gives to us strange few and embrace the temptation to spew some paragraphs about my life as of late.
*The only drawback to writing under even the smallest of “influence” is that it does seem to hamper any notion of grammar and often means I write long winded sentences such as this one, that never seems to stop – as if I’m being carried away by a current of thoughts that prevent me from taking stock of the structure and spacing of my winding writing…*
So as you would have noticed, I’ve not really graced this blog with new poetry, this is mainly due to a much needed hiatus from writing. I needed some time to contemplate whether I was going anywhere with this and whether my main focus should indeed be poetry. I was for some time considering ditching the rhythmic pull of poetry and focus instead on a novel..
Oh well I have no particular obsessive idea for a subject for a novel, it’s more along the lines that I may enjoy it more as well as gain more from it. The reasoning for this is manifested in the base desires of wanting perhaps more recognition or receiving some actual monetary value from spending time doing this type of “work”.
Yes that does actually seem rather shallow and vain – does it not? To want to write for money and fame…. Well I’ve learned long ago not to question the yearnings of nature. For after-all we are only here to breed and be the alpha of your social grouping – that’s my interpretation of the base desires of life anyway.
But enough deliberation on this topic otherwise I’ll never finish this update. To be completely honest though I do mainly write poetry for my own self-satisfaction and some obscure cleansing of the soul. Whatever that may mean…
Writing does allow me to clear my head and distil unwanted emotions but it’s also tiring and so I cannot exactly describe the process as exactly cathartic. It’s almost like masturbating in some crude sense.. Something you just have to do every now and then to feel “right”. Hmmm maybe that’s an extremely poor analogy but you get the point (I hope so anyway ha).
I say all this anyway to highlight that it is actually hard to churn out decent poetry at a regular tempo. This is still only a hobby and I have a very hard full time job that needs my constant time and attention. Along with the other necessities of life such as socialising. exercise and general admin..
The other excuse I have is that I’ve been away a lot from home, where most of my creative thoughts flourish. I was recently in Oman, for a business trip and I will at some point document my observations/thoughts regarding this trip. I want to do this as it was my first time to a Middle Eastern/Islamic country and I was pleasantly surprised as to the way society runs out there. Obviously they are a relatively moderate and very peaceful country compared to their neighbours so I may even restrain from writing anything as my views will only be myopic in the greater sense.
Aside from work and the purposeful break from writing, I’ve also been internalizing a lot of thoughts/decisions pertaining to the changing shape of my life. I have undergone a lot of transitional stages in regards to the overall sense of career progression, relationships and general housing/financial situation.
*As of this stage of the update, the author has had another glass of Merlot and now goes at a tangent towards the unrelated topic of romance/women, please be patient with him as he struggles to get back on track and conclude this misery of a blog update…”
Being a romantic at heart I’m never too far away from dating even after a long term relationship. This may sound decadent but it’s actually far more innocent than you may initially imagine.
I crave female company. Even if it’s just as friends or general chit chat with a nice girl I don’t know too well. That’s because throughout my life to the present I have always been surrounded by predominantly men:- school, university, work and sports. I don’t have any hobbies/passions where I would necessarily be in contact with women my age. Therefore when I get the chance to go on a date or just approach a nice girl to initiate conversation – I take it with full gusto. It helps that confidence has never been a big issue for me (as an adult anyway) and it also helps that the premise of my desire is not carnal but rather for social/emotional reasoning. I hate one night stands and rarely respect women that want to sleep together the first time.
*The author will not put down the wine and get back on track *cough* *
Now I mention romance because this links to my last post (not the poem that I just posted but the story last month or so – can’t be bothered to check, sorry). The post in which I began a story regarding the German girl I met at university and was with for some time.
Now after I published that post I felt a number of emotions – none of them exactly good. The emotion at the forefront was sheer perplexity. Why had I written this? What was the purpose? And I still don’t for the life of me know. I’m normally a very rational and logical person that does not spend time on something that initially makes no sense – even in abstract ways.
The second emotion was a tiny sense of disgust at myself for writing such tripe and then allowing it to be published and accessed by people. I also did not want one particular women who was recently in my life to read such garbage as I think it would only hurt her and make her lose any shred of respect for me she had left.
With that said I did not and still will not delete it. For whatever reason I did it at the time – I don’t know. It was like a spectre of the past had obtained possession of my fingertips and tapped out the letters rhythmically without any notion of restraint. I mean it finishes with a promise that the story will continue(?!). And I’ll tell you know that unless that phantom of memories comes to visit me, I will not be finishing or continuing that particular line of autobiography. The main reason being is that it’s not exactly that interesting despite the utterances of expectations laid out within the text.
Secondly I realised I don’t feel strongly about all that crap which happened revolving around that particular woman. I have no feelings for her and I also am not interested in reliving that segment of the past.
The only strong emotion I have in connection with all that – is that I can love again. Love properly. Love without any limit. I’ve loved since her but not the same extent. The type of love where you would forego any personal achievements just so you can spend an extra second with that person. This type of love is best summarised by my favourite phrase: ” I love you more than life itself”.
I’ve only ever said that to two women. Both of which probably didn’t deserve it. But at least the first one felt the same way back. I’ve never felt that kind of love since. Maybe it’s a good thing I haven’t – since it can be extremely destructive as well as euphoric… Hormones aye.. That’s all it is at the end of the day. The release of hormones and other chemicals that influence the way you feel about certain people. But of course part of this is under your own soul’s choice since we choose who we mate and spend our lives with prior to the release of oxytocin and other brain juice that influences our future actions.
*The author takes a big swig from his merlot and lights a cigar – puffing thoughtfully for a few minutes while he contemplates how this update became something poetic in it’s own right. He also becomes anxious that he has no way to conclude this…*
Anyway… I’ll stop my gibbering and try to wrap this up in a semi-meaningful way:
Most of what I have written above has helped me come to a conclusion – an epiphany regarding life in some convoluted way.
And that is there is no point regretting who and how we spend our time. All of time and all of our experience shape who we are today. And unless you hate who you are today (which I can happily say I don’t), then we should just embrace the current situation.
The fact that I don’t know where this blog or my writing will go in the future is almost a blessing in itself. It allows me to be unrestrained in what I write – whether it be poetry or general musing such as this. It is also a blessing that not many people know of this blog or even bother reading it. It kind of excites me that this publicly accessible insight into my private thoughts is only known by a handful of creatures.
One of whom I have wronged and feel guilty that she has to read this tripe. If you are reading this now – then I want you to know I have no bad feelings towards you. I will always respect who you are and if there is truly a time when you don’t know who to turn to – then I will always be there for you.
The conclusion is that I will continue to plague this page with more poems, I will actually be less picky on what I post here and use it as a repository for ALL of my thoughts. That way I leave nothing to chance and will have documented all of my mind’s creations. Whether for good or bad. And that is also why I will not delete that last post I have deliberated on at some length within this update.
For now thought it’s time for another glass of wine and to spend time with my best friend.
Until next time. I’ll leave you with my all time favourite quote:
“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones. I am not afraid.”
– Marcus Aurelius
*The author sighs with a sense of contentment. Perhaps the process is after-all cathartic…*
I’ve waited so long for this,
Even though it was always there,
To feel the cold wet rocks on my bare feet,
While the song birds continue to bleat,
The kelp bubble under the shallow water,
While the tide creeps out making the depth shorter,
Short enough to reach the abandoned ship,
Whose wood rots under it’s veneer of green,
Sunlight plays tricks as the estuary does gleam.
I approach a solitary monolith erupting through the water’s face,
Climbing, reliving past gone youth while memories unwind their lace,
Reaching the top I peer out yonder to the shimmering distance,
Soaking in the beauty and noises of nature in this solitary instance.
Nature’s pull is alive and true,
One can never escape it’s seductive glue,
I relish this treasure that this green earth gives,
And hope that every man gives in to it’s tug and lives.
Every line is about,
Who I don’t wanna write about anymore.
Hope you come down with something
They can’t diagnose, don’t have the cure for.
Holding on to your grudge.
Oh its so hard to have someone to love.
And keeping quiet is hard.
Cause you cant keep a secret
If it never was a secret to start.
At least pretend you didn’t wanna get caught..
Brand New, I believe you but my Tommy gun don’t.
I dare to see a future without you in my heart,
But I can’t without your words in my head,
They pound and pound from ear drum to drum,
I’ll drink lead so my belly doesn’t churn,
From the immortal butterflies you’ve spawned,
Saw off my wrists not so that I can bleed,
But so that from your shackles I can be freed,
I need not learn lessons from loved and lost,
I need sedation to mask the mental cost,
Of oscillating between joy and sorrow,
So quickly up and so quickly down,
Down and deeper into tomorrow,
Waiting for her face to appear,
It’ll never be missed but always wanted,
It’ll never be relished but always sought,
It’ll never be respected but always met with fear,
I can’t chase her away or hold onto,
Nought left to ponder over,
I’ll set sail from Dover,
Over crashing waves,
To find what my heart craves,
Will I go North or South-East,
At the moment I care least,
I’ll pitch up back home,
Sit upon my lonely throne,
Pity you all from afar,
Cough up lungs full of tar,
Not from smoking,
But from hoping,
That one of you will return,
And my heart no longer burn.
Consider this a letter that I never sent,
However inconsiderate it seems,
Do you still consider me,
The boy you laughed with,
Or that you learned to live without.
Jesse Lacey, Logan to Government Center, Your Favourite Weapon
Get out of my head,
I already heard what you said,
Repeated 10,000 times till ears bleed raw,
Same old excuses to justify your unhinged law,
You revolt me Witch down to my very core,
I’m getting sick of your same old shit,
SO this tether you wove round my neck will get bit!
Noone gives two fucks about your troublesome past,
All that matters is that lies and shit pour out so fast,
From every dirty orifice of your body,
Tempted, tricked me in to a sense of trust,
Well I’ll tell you now Witch it was just for that bust!
Hey Witch come here and take a taste of this,
It’s the last damned chance you’ll get to ingest some decency,
You are nothing but wasted time, out of time – you are history,
So I’ll ditch every last lasting memory,
Witch you better believe you are dead to me
Witch you spell bounded me with crocodile tears and lust,
Made me think you were special when initially I wasn’t fussed,
Because before your little game and curses
I saw right through you for shame and hearses.
So come along Witch, I guess you could say that you won,
But you pay the price for wretchedness that comes undone.
Hating is easy when friends betray loyalty,
Witch I treated you as if you were royalty,
Now I hate you for your face – not just the things you do,
You are the spit on the floor, the shit on my shoe,
Bitch you were the worst and now we are through,
Just two stupid months of continuous agony,
I could never put up with your mindless monotony,
You are a pitiful husk accompanied with shrieking noise,
Always ending up wrong, throwing out your toys.
Well you sorry excuse for a fling, this is all you deserverd,
Another line about your lack of beauty will never be served,
Except just to say – Witch,
You are one hell of a Bitch.
The leaves flicker and bicker as they talk from the trees,
No longer enriched but browning as they diesmbark and leave,
They lived life full and will return to the earth,
Swept into heaps that transform into turf,
Nutrients released bilaterally if you will,
The mother tree soon reclaims her autumn ill,
When spring arrives and the souls of leaves are sprouted anew,
From the flowering, towering buds that become many from a few,
Is this nature… beauty – unwavering moved towards a cyclical cycle,
Or just raw chaos blended with something that is more real than mythical,
Biblical proportions these processes come and go,
Watch as the seasons pass and enjoy natures flow.
Prevention is acscencion to another plane,
Where toils are reaped to reclaim past fame,
Shuddering bliss is often lingering pain,
Faking happiness to seem slightly sane,
Now I don’t pretend to know the score,
When the final minute is up and you breathe no more,
But it’s never too late to rack up one more point,
Poised to lurch, torch and burn to disjoint.
What was that all about,
“That makes no sense, get out”,
I dont care or even slightly bloody know,
These are my words and my show.
Make of it what you will,
And if it confuses then pass me the bill,
I can take all your derision,
It just makes me want to envision,
That one day these words will stretch out far and wide,
Delivering unsullied tales through rhymes about my other side,
To an audience-wide eclectic in demographics,
Whether they have ethics, or are just old relics,
with no conscious of my methods.
~It matters not , it never does,
Call the popo, call the fuzz,
This diatribe has lost its buzz,
Oh forgive me for this lust,
I have for words that bust,
Old concepts of how we should write, type and live life.
Bury me whole and I’ll resurrect again with more,
More ideas sprawled onto paper bleeding raw,
It’s fantastic the circuitous nature of this song,
I never expected I’d be going for this long,
It evolves and grows the more it is watered and fed,
With additives of adjectives in this narrative of what is said,
Acting as a laxative which averages how many are led,
The flow damages and so needs bandages for your head.
Have I killed it yet, or should I just continue,
Continue to release lessons which defend you,
If you can’t see it shining plain,
Then grow some more and try again.