My children
as your read these lines
remember that in thirty years time
you will be doing exactly the same
thing as you are doing today
the music you listen to
will sound the same
the makeup you wear
will look the same
your friends will be
the same
regardless how hard you try
the now will never ever
change
Someone once told me that I was
a decent guy
years down the line I’m still wondering what
she meant by that
I remember hearing on
the news one night that
Gordon Brown* was
a decent guy
I am no Gordon Brown though
not based on looks or stature
power or plain common speak
I wonder if I ever will
understand
what she meant
that time.
* former UK prime minister and politician
What happens when you find yourself writing the book of life and is preparing to start the next chapter and suddenly realising that there are no empty pages left, only an unwritten back cover?
Today’s prompt: the beginning of the end
is a temptation worth the risk
to pursue all the way.
I passed the beginning
a long time ago
Halfway through
the middle I realised
the slippery slope
without a visible end.
Attempted an escape
but the aeroplane engine stalled
I jumped without parachute
and now await
the ultimate thump
A day much like any other
I guess, yet to become
reality – no stress,
approaching steadily
through the haze of
insanity.
Travelling cross-country to
valleys of green
Le pub serving up music by
giraffe and friends
A journey beginning by
the tomorrow of now
The weekend approaches
life’s clock achime
The white walls crumbling
a single fly remains
watching it all fall to pieces
the left hand busy with a
drink of sweetened herbs
the right one idly grasping a
can of lager
the fly unmoved
as the life energy withered
departing solely
annoyed by all his
dithering
I would write you a song
sing it in tune
the Sunday morning
stroll along the
Brighton peer
would last longer than
the takeaway soya latte
we always shared
But the fire faded
drowned by white water
rivers and tears
now only the memories
remain
Seen and not heard – a strange statement indeed.
Seen BUT not heard I would declare
That rings true to me and
the predicament I am in
I brought seniority and expertise
They wanted miracles
I did my bit
My candle lit at
Both ends
The midnight oil in no
short supply
I raised concerns in
A plethora of fora
With no response received
The extra mile I went
I cared most vigoursly
about results and thus
I turned my back
they had their chance
but alas
I quit
I am dead and
gone
So silent the whisper
your eyes fading
as I forced myself in
the shiver
the scratchings
I’d trade any day of
solitude actions for
Your little death
my dear
Dirty deeds done
again
jumping out of an
aeroplane
stark raving
naked
what the fxck was I
thinking
imminent death
awaiting
