Monthly Archives: July 2011

nothing to remember; nothing to forget.

 

 

You know, I’ve heard about people like me – but I never made the connection.
They walk one road to set them free and find they’ve gone the wrong direction.

Advertisements

the greatest poem i never wrote.

The greatest poem I never wrote
came to me one night as
I stared absently
at your crumpled side of
the bed
My side, smooth
long absent of any presence
of body
or mind
for four months, now.

In it
I hold your hand
and trace the pattern of
each finger,
raising each in turn
to my lips
and brushing them
with a grateful kiss –
and you allow this.

I tell you
that I am sorry
and you are thankful
to hear it
and you listen to my
reasons with an
air of acceptance
despite what I did.

I tell you that
I will always love you
and I don’t know why
I chose
to lose sight
of your face
or of the life we had
in favour of frivolity
and travel
except that I
am selfish
and cruel
and allowed my head
to be turned from
you
Under the guise
of ‘freedom’.

A fallacy.
What I want
is sitting in front of me
And always has been.

All it was,
was a distraction, I say.
I couldn’t see
how perfect we were
until it was too late.

I wasn’t happy, I say.
You turn away
and nod, discreetly
because you know
and agree
that we had lost our way.

And you take my hand
in return
and you raise my fingers to
your cheek
and with a half-smile
you stare into me
through me
and tell me
that we will never be over
we will always survive
and you will love me
until the end of time
regardless of cliche
regardless of rhyme
or reason
Because you and me
We’re poetry
and we were always
meant to be
together.

You kiss me.

I smile.

My side becomes
once again
crumpled with passion
and drive.
I wake absent-mindedly
with you by my side.

But this is not
a movie
It’s just hopeful notes
and that is why
this is the greatest poem
I never wrote.

 

 

 

What is life about

If not love and connection?

Without those – no life.

I gracefully accept my Perfect Poet award for my poem ‘Diet’, and nominate Cinnamon Blues for an award in the future. Lovely poetry and one of the first to spot my assumed ‘talent’.  Thank you!


you know i’m no good.

 

 

Addiction always starts with a choice.

Take a drag on this cigarette; have a sip of this vodka; take a toke on this spliff; have a snort of this snow; take a huff of this crack pipe… And so it goes, ad infinitum.

Everywhere in life we face crossroads. Some of us make choices that aren’t necessarily the right ones. Our reasons for that vary. We could be suffering due to bereavement – grief is a harsh mistress. We could be feeling crushed under the weight of a situation too stressful or too dreadful to even bear comprehending. We could just want to fit into a world that is too huge to understand… We make them regardless. We should never be judged for these choices, for it is only ourselves who can truly say why we make them. We do these things to ourselves, and though they do affect the people around us, it is only within our own heads and hearts that we understand – and it might even take months, years, decades for us to get there – why we have chosen that particular path. Still, we are human, and we will always pass judgement on that we deem to be stupid, foolish or hurtful.

It is when choice is no longer a choice that a habit becomes an addiction. An addiction cannot be refused, nor can it be controlled. It is consuming; it takes hold of the body and the mind with the force of a freight train and we are fragile. We can be snapped so easily.

It is what makes grown, proud human beings sit in the street, unwashed and suffering from lack of sleep, losing their last shred of dignity to ask perfect strangers for change.

It is what takes over careers and reduces literate, sparkling people into shadows of their former selves. You can see it in their eyes – sunken and bloodshot; it is as if all life has escaped through the gift shop long ago.

It is what tears families apart.

An addiction cannot be pinpointed, nor can anyone be blamed for it. A person never picks up a vodka and coke with the express intention to one day become that person who cannot get up in the morning without it. Nobody takes a drag on a cigarette, dreaming of the day when they get to spend £12 in one go on two packs of twenty. Nobody draws on a spliff whilst bidding hello to schizophrenia. And yet we all start off there, in the same place. We have a part of our brains that allows us to ignore those little warning signs, those little voices that tell us that what we are doing is no good. Because, as we always say, I can look after myself.

Addiction creeps up silently, pouncing on a person when they are at their weakest. Who knows why?

So before you pass judgement on the situation that has arisen this week, I ask you to remember this simple fact: regardless of how far we go, or what we choose to dabble in, some of us are strong enough to hear those voices at a critical point and take heed; some of us are not so strong. Some of us cannot hear. Some of us are unable to. And that is the only difference between you and them.

Addiction takes no prisoners.


rip out all the epilogues.

 


we’re definitely going to hell.

 

But we’ll have all the best stories to tell.


freedom.

image

A life without ills is a straightforward one, but remember: if you have no shadows, then you have never truly stepped into the light.

We are free to shape our own lives; it is a gift.  Sometimes we will hurt and other times we will be submerged in joy… The important thing is to remember each and every little step that makes us who we are.

Ride the merry-go-round, for life is too short to deny yourself such simple and innocent pleasures.  Embrace these moments.  For these moments are your life.


through sparks and shining dragons, i do.