Uncategorized

(archives)

How to get on without society

Just eat with your fingers, Riley,
The washing up’s not been done;
And don’t make a mess in the living room
Before my friends have come.

Are there loo rolls by the toilet?
The Dorito dips‘ll have to wait
Till we’ve stocked the fridge with Lambrini
And washed another plate.

It’s bloody boiling in the living room,
But the kitchen’s not so hot
And Connor’s on his Playstation,
So come with me and have a shot.

Here’s salt for your tequila,
No! No need to take off your shoes;
And sorry I didn’t ask you sooner,
But what’s your favourite type of booze?

Cheers and all the best then!
Maybe we should have one more?
Oops, I’ll grab the Hoover,
I’ve spilt salt all over the floor.

*written after reading Betjeman’s How to get on in society

This Middle Age

I am middle-aged,
And the rage that once consumed me,
Is a memory,
And I am at a loss.

Like the world beneath me opened void,
But I do not drop.
Destroyed possibility awakes,
Staring within me.

All I realise,
Is the ghost of my adolescence,
Fenced in by fate
And what these hands can this day create.

I am a success,
But I know I wouldn’t impress him,
The yesterday we,
Who dreamt a vast lasting legacy,

Who like children dreamed
Of fantastic lives lived and worlds won.
Whilst I with a shrug,
Dismiss what I bring into being.

With distant memories,
A wave of grief powered by regret,
I forget to be,
And I am lonely reminiscence.

Darkened Dreams

There is a darkness
I saw in a dream
In a future dream
In a whisp of me
That left me alone
Freely engulfing me

And in that dream
No longer did that great luminary
Travail in the blue
For the sun was darkened

Men grubbed for what they could
And then turned to each other
First with charity and benevolence
But later with blackened hearts
As their souls grew cold

And as I stirred
Children clawed at my ascending form
And I looked down upon humanity
And mortality stared back
With hollowed eyes, black with fear

Their desperation engrained
Their tears went lost before the drop
And tainted the air
Poisoning their agonised last breath

I could not help them
As I groped in the nothing
My hands like obsidian
But pulsing with blackened blood

There is a darkness
I saw in a dream
In a passing dream
There was a gasp
That left me alone
And I was engulfed

The Wondrous Tree (for a Christmas Card 2013)

Whatever you think about Chrisrtmas,
Throw away any naysay,
Place your materialism into the ground,
Cast aside the inaction that precedes the day.
Although people party late,
We’ll ignore the disorder and laugh at the puerile.

And atop the tree sits an angel,
Or a star: a symbol.
And at its feet, in a child’s eyes, it’s remarkable.
The child fascinated in excited wonderment,
Never to remember the rapture of it:
That first Christmas Tree.

But with realization comes knowledge in what follows.
Following the appearance of this woody monument,
That smells not of the forest in which it stood,
But of Christmas and of promise.

A temporary tower conjuring images,
Under which children rip at presents,
And where men and women are taken back,
Where momentarily none hide their delight,
Until the last festive tree enters memory.

And that angel or star: a symbol,
Speaks to some of a return. To me a rerun,
Of a joyous, wondrous continuity,
Witnessed under the Christmas Tree.

It goes on

And those friends go away,
The ones you had yesterday,
The ones with whom you had history.
As your life evolves and resolves.

Looking through your parents’ eyes,
Hearing children cry.
Wondering when you said goodbye
To your childhood,
It lasted longer than you thought.

And those friends go away,
The ones you had yesterday,
The ones with whom you share history,
The ones with whom you walk everyday.

And so I’ll speak boldly of destiny,
And of friendships and family.
Until next we meet dear friends.