Sheep do not look at eagles and wish that they could fly,
That would be stupid.
What I am is a real construct,
made up of memory and influence. Dreams are different.
I can no more take the things I want and live them
then the sheep can, it is not a question of determination,
I am no more capable then them.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Poem: Far from ideal
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Poem: Broken
There were pieces of me left
Scattered around your apartment
Which you kindly packed up
And left in a box at my front door
So I could take them inside
And begin the tedious process
Of trying to reassemble myself.
Scattered around your apartment
Which you kindly packed up
And left in a box at my front door
So I could take them inside
And begin the tedious process
Of trying to reassemble myself.
Poem: Winter
Winter is coming again, crisp clean cold and Christmas lights.
The plants have died, the trees naked and stark against autumnal skies,
This is my season. Briefly I pretended to be a Summer flower, for you
But of all the fairytale characters I most wanted to be the Snow Queen,
The White Witch. I was never a Disney princess.
When the sun was shining I played at make believe, pretend warmth.
I do not feel it, they tore it out of me with good intentions,
I am safe. For awhile you made me wish that I was better, able,
Somewhere deep down I think it would have be something to love you,
But it’s a relief that it is over. I am glad that it is Winter.
The plants have died, the trees naked and stark against autumnal skies,
This is my season. Briefly I pretended to be a Summer flower, for you
But of all the fairytale characters I most wanted to be the Snow Queen,
The White Witch. I was never a Disney princess.
When the sun was shining I played at make believe, pretend warmth.
I do not feel it, they tore it out of me with good intentions,
I am safe. For awhile you made me wish that I was better, able,
Somewhere deep down I think it would have be something to love you,
But it’s a relief that it is over. I am glad that it is Winter.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Poem
For a while we worked, the things I gave you were enough,
I think we were mostly happy, but you became greedy,
decided that you wanted posturing, and stupid pointless words,
Like we were living in an American sitcom.
Gradually you felt something was missing, me just being me,
You wanted to hold my hand walking down the street, and constant hugs,
wanted to sacrifice everything for brainless make-believe,
Until we meant nothing worth having.
I was never going to give in, and I was so angry
You fighting every day, so determined to make us ordinary,
And constantly saying it, buzzing in my ear like an idiot.
I wanted to throttle you.
Until you ruined it, you for me were my reason,
My every moment, my waking in the morning,
Bigger than platitudes, and better then needing them,
You were my everything.
It didn’t need saying, there was nobody else so trusted,
So treasured, until you needed me to change,
I hope you find some lovely imbecile to parrot sweet trivialities
And that she makes you happy.
I think we were mostly happy, but you became greedy,
decided that you wanted posturing, and stupid pointless words,
Like we were living in an American sitcom.
Gradually you felt something was missing, me just being me,
You wanted to hold my hand walking down the street, and constant hugs,
wanted to sacrifice everything for brainless make-believe,
Until we meant nothing worth having.
I was never going to give in, and I was so angry
You fighting every day, so determined to make us ordinary,
And constantly saying it, buzzing in my ear like an idiot.
I wanted to throttle you.
Until you ruined it, you for me were my reason,
My every moment, my waking in the morning,
Bigger than platitudes, and better then needing them,
You were my everything.
It didn’t need saying, there was nobody else so trusted,
So treasured, until you needed me to change,
I hope you find some lovely imbecile to parrot sweet trivialities
And that she makes you happy.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Poem: Different Lives
We used to sit in a group up in the park
drinking revolting mixtures of spirits
robbed from gullible parents liquor cabinets
and smoking cigarettes we bought two for ten pence
from the irresponsible shop keeper who also sold us our penny jellies.
As time passed we introduced the softest of illegal substances
and availed of the dark winter evenings to gently molest one another.
With nothing to do and nowhere to be we unintentionally
spent our days dissecting modern philosophy
and running from the Garda when they showed up unexpectedly.
Later on, through fortunate chance and happenstance
I stumbled my way into a University and blagged myself a degree.
Learning to roll my r’s and sandpaper the rougher edge of Dublin from my tongue,
While you staggered from expulsion to Dole queue to probation
And erased the sparkle from your eyes with alcohol and heroin.
I got myself an office job and a pretty apartment
And became adept at hiding the places I grew up in,
While you robbed a post office and got locked up
And died bleeding in a dark cell of an overcrowded prison.
They didn’t believe when I said, I used to be friends with him.
drinking revolting mixtures of spirits
robbed from gullible parents liquor cabinets
and smoking cigarettes we bought two for ten pence
from the irresponsible shop keeper who also sold us our penny jellies.
As time passed we introduced the softest of illegal substances
and availed of the dark winter evenings to gently molest one another.
With nothing to do and nowhere to be we unintentionally
spent our days dissecting modern philosophy
and running from the Garda when they showed up unexpectedly.
Later on, through fortunate chance and happenstance
I stumbled my way into a University and blagged myself a degree.
Learning to roll my r’s and sandpaper the rougher edge of Dublin from my tongue,
While you staggered from expulsion to Dole queue to probation
And erased the sparkle from your eyes with alcohol and heroin.
I got myself an office job and a pretty apartment
And became adept at hiding the places I grew up in,
While you robbed a post office and got locked up
And died bleeding in a dark cell of an overcrowded prison.
They didn’t believe when I said, I used to be friends with him.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Poem: Apology
It is not an easy thing, to say you are sorry,
I know you wanted so much more for me
And are disappointed that I could be so ordinary
As to let myself be trapped by something so stupid.
I have tried for explanations, unfair to expect you to understand
How loud it can get inside my head, just excuses
But I was searching for some kind of respite
From always having to be myself.
I wanted to see what would happen if I took myself apart
I didn't consider that you would be the one
Left to pick up all of the pieces and try
To fashion me back out of them.
It must have hurt, it must have made you angry
That I hid them from you, gave you promises
And presumed you were so stupid that you would miss
The best part of a bottle of whiskey on my breath.
The person that I am, that's all that there is
And no amount of tears can change it, not now
I know that it is entirely selfish of me,
But letting everything disintegrate felt extraordinary.
You need to stop trying to save me now,
The girl you want back is a lost, I barely remember her
I think it would be easier if you just hated me,
And for what it's worth, I am sorry.
I know you wanted so much more for me
And are disappointed that I could be so ordinary
As to let myself be trapped by something so stupid.
I have tried for explanations, unfair to expect you to understand
How loud it can get inside my head, just excuses
But I was searching for some kind of respite
From always having to be myself.
I wanted to see what would happen if I took myself apart
I didn't consider that you would be the one
Left to pick up all of the pieces and try
To fashion me back out of them.
It must have hurt, it must have made you angry
That I hid them from you, gave you promises
And presumed you were so stupid that you would miss
The best part of a bottle of whiskey on my breath.
The person that I am, that's all that there is
And no amount of tears can change it, not now
I know that it is entirely selfish of me,
But letting everything disintegrate felt extraordinary.
You need to stop trying to save me now,
The girl you want back is a lost, I barely remember her
I think it would be easier if you just hated me,
And for what it's worth, I am sorry.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Poem:Bravery
This is bravery,
Being in this moment
and the next
and all of the moments to follow
when everything is full of hurt
and fear, wolves at the door,
bottles of whiskey,
and regrets and regrets and regrets.
Being in this moment
and the next
and all of the moments to follow
when everything is full of hurt
and fear, wolves at the door,
bottles of whiskey,
and regrets and regrets and regrets.
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