Time

Posted on May 24, 2010. Filed under: Poetry, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , |

 

And only now I realise that I need You, Time

Time was a blur.

What happened I don’t know.

A continuous monotonous stream of nothingness.

A time spent wishing, thinking but not feeling time.

As it ebbed away from me I tried to reach for it,
But I was not concerned to use my time to take hold of time.

A day not usitilisng, experiencing and moaning of time is pointless.

Time waits for no man, yet wait was all I seemed to do!

I waited for something to happen.
I waited for things to move.
I waited for people to enter and people to leave.
I waited.

I’ve wasted time waiting.

The deceitfulness of time.

The trickery of time.

And now I can’t get it back.

What a waste of time!

©

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Do a Portsmouth (Poetry In Motion)

Posted on April 12, 2010. Filed under: Articles | Tags: , , , , , , , |

Sunday 11th April 2010  Tottenham 0 – 2 Portsmouth

There’s a lot that we can learn from Portsmouth Football club 

I love football, probably just as much as the next person, but perhaps a little less than most.

Recently though, one particular team has caught my eye. Portsmouth Football club isn’t a club that I’ve ever really paid much attention to, but now I find that I am somehow drawn to them.

Why? Because for me, Portsmouth represent LIFE! And that beyond football.

I came to know of them well when I heard about their financial woes all over the news. Now this isn’t big news in terms of companies going bust and financial issues hitting most businesses. Not to mention the money problems faced by bigger clubs in the past such as Manchester City, Arsenal and Manchester United.

But this story seems a little more… I don’t know, sad.

I recently heard of a story of one of the Portsmouth players having to return to his parents’ home.

If you haven’t heard, there have been reports of the players not being paid for months (Portsmouth reportedly owe £65million), the club going into administration and having points deducted from their campaign as a result of this.

Now to the “working” world, this sort of action would be faced with the reaction of strikes. But watching Portsmouth play against premier league hitter, Tottenham was an example in loyalty if there ever was one.

There was something extremely poetic and gallant in the way Portsmouth played. With such determination and devotion – they had a fighters spirit about them. They were soldiers on that pitch!

I was greatly touched by it all, especially in light on their current circumstances.

And In spite of their monetary woes, administration matters and relegation, Portsmouth played like REAL champions.

And isn’t that what we need from real players?

Champions.

In life.

Whether on or off the pitch.

They won Sunday’s match, beating Tottenham 2 – 0. A victory well deserved in my opinion.

Regardless of the team you actually support, you couldn’t help but stand in salute of their amazing efforts.

Now, their problems are still very much present, but you never would have guessed the way they played.

So inspiring!

I often write about about it, but in adversity, when the world says “no way” or “you can’t possibly make a comeback” or “forget it, there’s no hope”, just “Do a Portsmouth” and show them that nothing can stop you when you just keep your eyes on the ball.

That’s one football lesson I definitely want my son to learn!

©

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Your Box

Posted on April 1, 2010. Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

I comply not with these rules that are set before me and that drives you mad!

Your understanding of me and mine is limited;
So your judgement holds no real merit!

Your ignorance to the beauty of freedom blinds your vision
And inevitably suffocates you.

You spit out rules and lines and “must-dos” and “No’s”
Though it is you who alone is bound by this system; this regime.

“The greats”, you say, “did it this way.”
I say, “Before them, there were none!”
And after me, there will be many.

Many different, weird and wonderful songs to sing!

Yes!

Many new and wonderful ways to tell a story, not just by way of your Book of Rules!!!

I thrive off the restricted energy those like you spit,
I refuse to communicate with dead spirits.

I feel not the comments and ills that flow through your soul.
Wanting, wishing only to remove those dark glasses that prevent you from seeing;
Really seeing!

Uniqueness isn’t studied,
Yet delivering it is class.

Because, of all the walls, blockades, bricks and stones put up against freedom to be,
Ignorance is the one that slowly kills the soul of those who harbour it!

So plump up those pillows and get comfortable,
Because it looks like you’ll be in your box for a while!

Dedicated to YOU!! Thanks for the advice WF

©

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Here’s To You, Reality

Posted on March 16, 2010. Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , |

Feeling like I need a moment to enjoy just being still.

To take it all in – all that is around me.

To not analyse, or pick apart the things I see.

To not have to put meaning behind it all, but take it for what it is.

Sometimes, I spend time dreaming and missing the beauty of Reality,
It passes by as a whisper in my ear.

I realise, in my dream like state, I may have missed something amazing.

I know I like it here but sometimes and often,
I have to open my eyes.

To force myself to open my eyes.

To see the rose growing from the thorns.
The sun peering through clouds.
A smile through the tears.

Reality can be harsh, it’s meant to be sometimes.

But how beautiful it is to know that I have the freedom to check in or check out whenever I want.

So here’s to you, Reality;
A worthy friend and enemy.
You are bitter-sweet.

Because I know without your crudeness and uncertainty,
They’ll be no need for me to dream.

©  

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LONDON

Posted on March 5, 2010. Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

London cries a lot.

Not more so than others, but still, a lot.

The tears aren’t empty though.
They are filled with the pain the streets contain.
The tears of those who walk these streets no longer flow.
Too many tears shed on their part. Much too many.

So London cries for them.

When it’s a day like that, London seems beyond sad.
Moody, perhaps.

But I know, being a shoulder London has cried on.
We know.

If you look harder it’s just London getting ready to start all over again.

The rain-like tears, cleanse and make new what was once dirty and old.

It’s rejuvenation that is taking place.

A rebirth. Born-again.

London is beautiful like this.

But today,
Oh today, on a day like this,
London raises it’s head, stands even taller and smiles.

Music fills the air like a soundtrack to London life.
You feel brazen.
Feel child-like.
Feel naughty.

The hardness is there, it’s still there underneath the skin,
Where the heart thumps it’s angry chorus
And the beat times itself to the beat of those it holds.

But today,
Oh today, on a day like this,
When the sun is out,
London shines.

©

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Life Imitating Art

Posted on March 3, 2010. Filed under: Poetry, Short Stories | Tags: , , , , , , , , , |

 – “Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”  Pablo Picasso –

Everyday, hundreds came to see the artist at work.

He was phenomenal to watch. He would put his heart and soul into every piece. People stood in awe of his deeply meaningful work. He was extremely focused whilst painting and would not be distracted by the noises around him. The people passing by, the sounds of car horns and traffic, the sounds of children playing in the nearby park.

No, nothing would distract him.

This place was his sanctuary. Yes, it was a pavement in one of the busiest streets in the city, but to the artist, it was peace.

He never answered any questions. Never spoke, never looked up or around.

His paintings were truly personal. And because he never spoke, nobody knew what his works were about. What were his paintings trying to say? What were they about?

Yet to everyone who came across his work, each was touched in a very different way. Some were made happier for seeing a piece of his art. Some of his works made people think about their lives. Some people felt his work had changed their lives, making them feel love again or giving them the ability to dream. His work touched many – directly and indirectly.

This one day in the city was like any other day.

He arrived at his spot on the street. Sat down and began to paint.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Those around him. Stood still. They looked a little concerned for the artist as he seemed to show no sign of movement. One person called out to him, ‘are you ok?’ Another asked, ‘why have you stopped?’

He slowly turned to them, stood up and put down his tools.

They stood perfectly still. Waiting to hear from him, finally.

Looking around at each of them, he said, ‘I’ve stopped because I’m done.’

He picked up his things and walked away.

Turning to each other, they looked confused.

They then began to walk away. Each of them walking into their own lives.

© 

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As If I Only Had Today

Posted on February 23, 2010. Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |

One day, a day that changed my life, happened.

Yes, the greatest thing happened to me on this day.
It was the day I realised I don’t hold tomorrow.

The day I realised those I love will be lost.
And those I lost, I may have actually loved.

It was a day that I looked ahead of me;
In front of me,
And only saw now.

This day I stood still and felt the earth move.

On this day, my plans for tomorrow turned into goals for today.

The day I realised it’s all or nothing.
Half hearted just doesn’t cut it.

It was a day I put down the baggage,
And walked away with nothing.
Happy.

On this day I looked and really saw.

It was a day I stopped caring so much about me in others eyes,
And started to care about me in my own!

It was on this day I sat down and realised it all happens for a reason or a season.
Simple.

This day, I knew that worrying is a pointless act.
It may or may not happen.
Either way, worrying does nothing for it.

Yes, on this day I realised I don’t hold tomorrow,
So let me do well with embracing today.

©

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My Smile = My Strength

Posted on February 18, 2010. Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

In the bad, if I can still smile,
I know I am strong.

In the confusing,
When all I can do is laugh,
I know I have power.

When I smile in the uncertain,
Know that I am not crazy.
It’s just my strength in demonstration.

When the world says I smile too much,
I laugh.
I smile.
Perhaps the world is frightened by my vigour.

As the world around starts to crumble – My world,
It’s my smile that makes me stand firm.

When they say “you can’t surely be happy all the time?”
No, not all the time,
But my smile pulls me through.

Please, never take my kind heart,
Pleasant words or my smile for weakness.

Like still waters that run deep,
And calm volcanoes that rumble and erupt,
My smile hides many things.

But one thing my smile will never hide is my strength.

©

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At Home In My Head

Posted on February 8, 2010. Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

At home in my head;
This is where I live.

When the world hurts my core,
This is where I come.

From the harshness of reality,
Here is where I find peace.

From the rude awakening of those around me,
Here is where I hide.

When my heart can no longer take the evils or fight the giants,
I curl up in a ball here.

Right here is where I resort. 

When I can’t run, walk or crawl, 
This is where I am.

Don’t look for me.
Don’t ask of me.
Don’t come to me.
I will not let you in.

When I’m ready;
Strong enough to come outside,
To face you,
To stand up strong,
I’ll slowly show my head.

I’ll be Ok.
I’ll be fine.
I’ll smile again – I always do!

But please, just for now,
Let me go home.

©

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A Letter to P.A.

Posted on February 6, 2010. Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |

Dear P,

I’ve wanted to write this letter for so long with every intention of giving it to you one day.

But I never did as my heart was filled with all sorts of fears;
Known and unknown.

So I commit myself to writing this to you here in hope one day you may stumble upon it.

You were a great guy.
A man with heart.
A strong and determined character that I admired.

You might laugh because your situation at the time was, somewhat, precarious, but you were inspirational.
I loved talking to you.
Hearing you laugh.
Hearing all the positive things you had to say about life.
About Me.

We clicked like we had known we would for ever.
We told stories of our lives, our hearts and battles and scars.

Yes, there were times when you became overwhelmed by it all. By your life. I could see that,
But in some ways, I turned a blind eye hoping and praying my love was enough.
And at times it was.

I wanted more of you. More from you,
But you were not in such a place to give.
And for this I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for looking but not seeing.
I’m sorry for listening but not hearing.
I’m sorry for wanting and not needing.
I’m sorry for the space I gave you and the times I gave you none.

I didn’t understand the fight, I just saw the fighter.

When I left, I put you to the back of my mind.
The realisation that this was bigger than me became too real.
It was bigger than my hopes or my dreams.

Though, you never left the forefront of my heart.
It is all still so real.
God brought us together;
We tore us apart.

I wanted what I wanted without much thought.

Now you are not totally blameless in all that took place,
So I put my hands up for what I did.
I too was responsible for our fall.

So now I wish you well.

I will always remember you the way you were. I fell in love with a dream.
x

©

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