Tag Archives: writing

Past Me

Move your hand please
We’re not there yet
Why do you rush this

We’ve got time left

To listen to each other with our third ear
And read between the lines that are cryptic
Like when we first met and we were in sync

Just now you’d like to hear what I didn’t dare

It was a secret so I might remember wrong
But we read together those books till dark
I was immature so I’d often bark

Instead of please could you listen to this song

Then you dropped a bombshell
Like a projectile from the skies
There was another and he was in another isle

Guess you dragged me along with your smell

I don’t think I spoke to you after that
It was on my mind to do but I’d come last
My father came to visit and I walked past

You apparently and that was that

Don’t think it was deep love but I tried
I hope he was real, never mind
I’m writing this to close a chapter in my book
The life in which you only got a look

Deadly Race

I fell off of my high horse while with friends riding

It was fun at first till I rolled on the ground bruised and crying
I felt bad for me and wished the horse would kick my head
Or some worse case, anything for it to end

My sorrow was costly to them but painful to me
My hope like the grass flattened beneath their feet
The loss left a reminder soon to be a scar for free
But now covered by my hair whenever I see it

It’s there when I close my eyes, like it left me behind
It’s there in my father’s face when he can’t look
And when he does my name he calls like a crook
Thief of his money and of his peace of mind

Never had a person to share my heart with
Had no regrets when it was accelerated, my heart beat
Foolish me wishes I felt something
But if the horse kicked me I’d be done with no one crying or coughing

I fell riding in a race I can’t return to
Is it cowardice to figure where to run to
Or should my deadly race get a sequel
Either way it wont end well


Come fight the fire
Come quench the flames
You were chosen for your power
And not your brains


Come feed the hungry
The weary needy too
Hope they don’t get angry
And get sicked on you


Come help your nation
The third out of three
Booming with growth and corruption
Save your country, oh can ye?


Come start the fire
These flames were holy designed
Till they burn everyone with a rubber tire
And your memory of you is hard to find


Come quench your fires, there’s many within
Oh healer heal thyself so you can reach the rest
You’ll find your answer but maybe later than
You’d planned to change the world and do for them what’s best

Stirring Bones

Stringing some pain out of my hate
It’s not hard when I’m celibate
Forced the murder of my smile

Problems longer than the nile

Hold me to my words so I know to pick them
Flourine in the water to keep it clean then
Weaving some past horrors into baskets

Made my money selling a few caskets

Weed out the raw stuff there’s no me left
Till I’m clean shiny and polluting like a private jet
Let me lead you truth seekers to a locked door

Fill your head with many questions and many more

Down the garden part and further still
Lead you into darkness thick enough to feel
Take your light away and your torches

Leave your main one a sitting duchess

Here’s some skeletons hope they scare you silly
Till your begging for attention or help like a silly billy
Slow you down molasses like

Hope you burst into tears like a lone tike

Love and America’s Got Talent

I had watched the latest series of BGT (Britain’s Got Talent) all the way through and am now watching AGT weekly. I enjoy these shows very much because they involve easily understood human truths.

Work Hard For Success

All things being equal, a person who is successful at a competitive endeavour has put in time, work and sweat into it. Has engaged countless hours of training, has overcome doubts and has struggled. The show puts it on display in a simple but effective way, the shift in camera angles gives a cinematic sort of look at the performances. It is breathtaking to see what these humans can do and why they can do it.

The trapeze couple this season, Duo Transcend have passed through the initial stages of the competition and are in the live shows where they will have to improve their act to progress as with the other rounds. Their last act was publicised because the near-blind husband had missed a catch blindfolded .

Yet it was obvious to anyone who had seen the act that there had been practise, shown with the well developed arms and chest in the husband and similar musculature in the wife. The wife who had fallen had landed on a mat and was safe thankfully ,they both moved on to the next round because their act was scary, beautiful and magical.


Pure Joy in Escapism

There is a lot going on in the world today, (whatever part of it you may be in) and sometimes there is a need to escape and see people be better than you thought they were. There is a need to believe in a better world and work towards it in whatever way you can.

The show regularly features snippets of life stories of the performers. Their struggles to get to where they are, their failure and why they got on the show this year.

This year featured an 84-year-old comedian who one of the judges, Howie had performed in the same circles with early in his career. He had never gotten a big break and he was ready to present his lovely self to the world. He related some of his stories and struggles with being older in a classic observational style which was interesting .


The Sore loser

One of my past times before I went on a happiness binge was to find videos of unsuccessful auditions were the contestants had meltdowns of varying degrees. It was funny in many ways, there’s the mean-spirited angle of revelling in someone else’s pain and there’s the justifiable mockery of the sore loser.

It is enough of a shame, an understandable burden to lose at anything in life because many of us have experienced it. But there is a need to recognise where you had gone wrong and try to move on and get better for the inevitable future.

The show gives performers exposure beyond what most of them could garner on their own. The exposure can be notoriety which may breed ironic followers but seldom genuine praise because people do not like sore losers. It is important to know that and contain your meltdown until you reach your home.



I don’t know what will make me happy in the future but that this makes me happy today. Try to do whatever it is you have been dreaming of doing and know that even if you fail, you can learn from it and succeed in the future. If you are a sore loser who blames everyone else for failure then you may never succeed so fail with grace.

A drop in an ocean

I feel left out sometimes
My bones don’t enjoy holy anger
Some of their hearts must be limes
It starts off sour then it gets bitter
I’m no better on my own part
Have no fanatic in my cells
Was the man who watched them decay into smells
Was the one who could do nothing to quicken or stop their hearts
Was not a messenger from God condemning them to their fate
Threw the end of the world party
Danced on the graves of the corpses from whom life is now separate
At least that’s what they told me
I whispered in my own corner for the town crier liked bad news
He got more crowds to listen to him hit his gong and spread his message
Sometimes he got people in the pews
The preacher reminded them to prepare for a dark age
I whispered louder and the crier found me hateful
The accusers and the fanatics both found my lifespan worthless
Spreading nothing but my own thoughts and feelings so my spawn are not thoughtless
Soon I was dead and they were in search of another fool


I figured out your step too far
The battery to get you tick tick ticking
It’s not like mine which makes for exciting living

Strange that this is your line, your bar

Courageous you are to reveal your weakness
How can you win now in this race?
How can you keep up with my pace?

When I know what causes your sadness

Chastise you oh I did, do not tell me
But your trusting ears heard the opposite
I’m the sum of all your fears a composite

But into your dark you let me

I found out the line to cross
The catalyst for your reaction
Dissimilar to mine own but a distinction
I limbo under your invisible line, your loss