Tag Archives: football

Insecure Context

I found my words lacking, my face was not as expressive as I wished.

My delivery was dry, my hair flailing my confidence waning.

Of all the trials I’ve bested this was a new strange.

An anomaly on the elevated life stage.

You see there was a beautiful female who I’d begun talking with.

Her countenance was shy so I didn’t need to be guarded instead.

I stayed as long as I could and was utterly captivated.

I was caught up in our talks when I remembered.

They came pouring like a stream:

All my flaws all at once
I was short and pudgy
I was not conventionally funny
I was an addict once

I had failed at almost everything I tried
She was successful and was probably tired
Of seeing flailing corpses be charming
Sometimes when its cold my features can look more alarming

I walked like I kicked a stone every step
I run like a vat of jello on the highway
I don’t eat a lot so my body conserves
I then over eat and add to my fatty reserves

I hide affection for people because it seems weird to be honest
I only care about my family
I have few friends to speak of when I’m honest
I get honest without alcohol inside of me

They came pouring and the situation changed
Because I could not now have a talk with her
I’d have to leave as soon as she had left I bailed
I’d rather forget my face at a bar

Stale

I connect when I’m supposed to
It keeps failing all of it
I find time to do what I wanted too
It needs time and a lot of it

I think I may be feeling things
It’s wrong most every time
I find myself believing scenes
It fights with my logic rhyme

I like a female at least I think I do
It’s not a thing I see in my future
No long term I may leave in 10 months still have no clue
But she’s a friend to me and I think it’s mutual

She knows people I know but way longer
I’m the least likely on the line up
Also I can’t be involved with a colleague it’s not proper
I can’t take risks with no surety so ill just shut up

Craving

She wore a knife atop her wrist

Broken hearts as me she kissed

Many a moment passed and here we were at last

My heads were by my side so stunned, aghast

 

She had her hands under my chin

Beating hearts as me she killed

No hidden body and my eyes open wide

I’d died with a kiss and a boner i couldn’t hide

 

What love was lost when none was had?

My body lifeless, bloated on the ground

I wish I never went to that stupid place

But He said I might never again get this grace

 

I dreamed what I didn’t know you shared

Every night of my lover running scared

I was scared I would lose you by saying something stupid

The only other who broke more hearts was cupid

A hill to die on

I woke up one bright early day
looking for a hill to die on
I saw a tweet about rocketman Yay
That is a journey worth trying

I picked up my clothes and folded them
Put them all in a bag neatly
I put on my glasses to look at the realm
And was off on the journey swiftly

I happened upon a bridge made wholly of wood
With three trolls standing smack in the middle
Who said they’d let me pass if I answered the riddle
What’s jolly and oaky and sounds like it’s good

The answer was clear it was Hollywood
The trolls departed sprinkling a fag or two on me as I passed
The horrid smell of cigarettes quickly passed
And soon there were sounds in the woods

I could hear roars and cheers and critters and twitters
Walked toward the roars to find a thorny hydra named Dragon
It said I had to find out which head housed liquid delusion
I waved my fingers and pointed at the third of its members

The head approached and came forward out of itself
It was a beautiful shell like they had promised
I left with one assurance not to be alone with its ideas by myself
Also to deflect whenever it asked what I’d promised

I started up the hill as the shell was on a satchel behind me
I could see the hill on the horizon
I could see a new Sun rising
A few more steps I thought and then I’m free

I saw other hills as I passed toward my goal
The shell tried to talk me out of my dreams
I passed The social justice, the white nationalist and blurry extremes
Could now see without my glasses, I was whole

I looked down and saw I was in the valley of the right politics
Where everything I beleived was backed by data
Even my wondering thoughts were sound beyond critiques
And in fact the critics were haters

I got to my hill to see others had cropped on it
It was someone’s attempt to solve a problem but they cared little
Well I was done caring about what people thought of it
So I lay my bed and slept till my eyes were only open a little

Fine

Walking on water was fine
Stepping on the moon was good
But there’s none to stay in line
There’s none to give food

The lofty is easier than the simple man
To project is not to empathise
You can save that man yes you can
But does it look good in the camera’s eyes

Warring factions in my new old land
Perilous stories that never end
My forefathers went through the rapids bend
To put their feet on cooler sand

Their struggle is not mine
Their suffering a foreign language
I read about it in a book online
It was interesting like a Facebook adage

Dark Rainbow

I once was painting a rainbow on this vast canvass
With red and yellow and a smile
I looked closer with a magnifying glass
And all I did was stare for a while

One of my brush strokes in this three month period
Had been unfavourable in the scheme
It was a smudge that looked like a being
Here I was a painter and a God

I took out my 2h pencil and sketched the features
Here was a woman of middle age
That fate had dealt with in rage
She had been good person who excelled in chores

What smile she had was worn by the wiles of living
She had marks that had been lesions
Her back a sick tapestry of the other end of giving
When men touched her skin she’d go blank into a vision

She’d erred on the side of kindness
But failed to be evil
She’d had her bouts of madness
But bore in mind her people

Was virtue hers in essence
Or was she a victim of herself
Was life a tyrant seeking obedience
Or was she just a book on a shelf

I left my glass of magnifying and almost burned my rainbow
But if I did she’d be dead with no chance to know
If things could be better, if this was a bend
So I hung up a dark rainbow right above my bed

What of the world?

Who cares what the world thinks of you and your race or gender or politics? If you are happy with yourself and your happiness does not prima facie directly contribute to someone else’s detriment then you should be fine. It is not necessary for everyone to like you or care enough to hate your guts, if you are in fact an individual you do feel lukewarm about a lot of people in your life. It always surprises me when people claim that they love everyone equally because you cannot by your functioning as a human do this. The only thing you can be sure of is that you love some people and some people love you, that should be enough to warm your heart or help you succeed.
I know that words are sometimes just that and when it comes to the actions themselves, it is harder to execute a ‘don’t care’ attitude. There are people that will annoy you everyday; there’s a small space on the lift from the tube sub platform but no one wants to make space, there’s a gum piece that was flung on the sidewalk and it gets stuck under your favourite pair, there’s someone on the tube eating something that has a very powerful scent and there’s an ass hole who spilled a coffee on an empty seat on the 205 bus. It is not however worth it to wait for the world to approve your actions in every instance, is it worth it to belong to a group where you can’t grow? Is it worth it to sacrifice yourself for the good of the group? I always ask what the plight of someone who commits an atrocity in another’s name should be, when the act of the male or female was not orchestrated for their pleasure but for the good of a group or an ideology. What happens to the silent protesters who get burned to death? Will the group’s success re-spawn them? Will their failure shift into pity because they have a Martyr now and death makes people into Jesus?
What of the world? I ask myself every so often as i try to focus on my goals and my life graduation, is it worth it in the end if there is no welcome for me and no hurrah and my body just dissolves like all into nothing? Will my life have more worth if by helping myself I help the world(or at least my corner of it) rather than the other way around? What does it help to congregate into groups and watch brilliance go toward propaganda and when will the protests stop and living continue? I hope the world is better in the future but I will not sacrifice my life or my joy or my happiness or my enjoyment of things for the foolhardy hope that maybe someday my life will matter in the annals of a group. I don’t mind sitting on the empty table everyday if I can know happiness and contentment and success and hunger. If my legs be made strong from the running alone and my palms like iron from the frustrated punches and my eyes straining as I don’t pick colour glasses and my nose sniffing in air, not hate or fury and my back lay on grass blades and my bum calm as I sit alone. I may be happy for I am free of groups and thinking other people’s thoughts and I will welcome my consciousness stream.