When the Friday claimed good is nigh upon us,
and the last cold snap of winter falls all round us,
when the expectations for a Spring sometimes grow too strong,
and the sullen mood in the shadows of Old Man have gone on too long
then all that’s left is positive spirits
all bottled up in reserve for this
and when finally the blossoms come.
We’ll fall elated – reverently dumb.
©TheHairyTeacher2014
In the early morning the exodus begins.
The waves of earthworms from their homes evicted.
Falling prey to birds and rubber tyres.
Their fate sealed by the earth in which they live.
Betrayed, at least upended, they have no Noah to their cause.
They move en masse but separately,
towards a new beginning.
But it’s progress, not their own,
which has pushed them to this point.
As their habitat’s eroded their risks become significant.
On a soaked air morn from earth’s saturation
little creatures flee, to breathe,
but may never sleep again.
©TheHairyTeacher2014
I have been here before –
falling somewhere between desperation and reason.
I have even tried to justify my every step:
“no need, unless you know you’re wrong”
and so, yes, the voice doth preach,
and the ears will recoil,
for I am not about to listen.
Remember this –
I’ll only learn in this state
If it’s not guilt or some other fanciful delight you speak of.
I am the product of other people’s tyrannies.
I have, for too long, stood in the shadow of other people’s choices –
I am suffused to doubt
and bolstered up to clarify
that ne’er again will there be
that ne’er again for me, at least,
No surrender –
No surrender –
at least as long as I can see the boundaries.
The risk then less
I shall bravado fly
till truth be told.
I’ll fear again
The honest murmurings
of doubt
and place the ‘tough guy’ in the box –
the redundant hologram
it’s what I am
or would be
If I had to be
but I’ve invested too much
in believing
that it’s not
all as bad as that,
and that, if I choose,
I can contribute to this better world.
I will become the sum total
of fear, subservience, doubt, cowardice et al,
till it is further understood
I’m here for me
at first
I’m here to live,
not die.
I have questions –
beyond gravity –
which interest me.
I’m more concerned
and yet…
And then this doubt –
It is my life!
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Not ever again-
as I made my excuses.
Not to be trusted-
Of this I was certain.
Never, oh never-
Like a song in refrain.
But I’ll wait all the same-
As always, anyway.
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Words from another-
complimenting.
There is honesty and
bravery –
I am jealous.
I fight for my voice;
it seeps sometimes
through the cracks
in my reserve,
my fear of others’ opinions.
But it vies for recognition…
©TheHairyTeacher2014
In the rumble of an engine ticking over
Held up to the kerb in utter resignation
Against the backdrop of a Friday morning start
There is motion then and all else moves apart
Outside the moving streets they lag behind
As ever onwards ever after I am borne
©TheHairyTeacher2014
A hand grasping while the mouth mechanical keeps chewing another hand engaged in half a sandwich this lady’s allowed such indiscretion surrendering etiquette up to basic instinct and now remembering I think of coffee and the dunking of a biscuit there inside to let the soggy stain increase till just a limit and then pass it to one’s mouth is such a pleasure and yet those kids in Vuelva who eat their apples with a knife and fork may never know the wonders when we let conventions go
©TheHairyTeacher2014
In response to this indulgence I question all who view the path,
too riddled with obstacles before ever being approached.
A man’s entitled to imagination but if the path was clear before –
then still it is the same.
The passengers you bring are side by side with you
Not up ahead vying to be mowed down by you
and so in early morning eloquence
I share my thoughts that music brings.
Aside a street, a pavement tucked inside a cafe/bar:
the beer a tortured parody
non-alcoholic – as I’ve been trying to be.
The spring outside is heating up but forecasts tell of cold to come.
All obstacles are in the mind for if snow arrives then one last time,
I’ll build a snowman, pull a sledge,
and when it’s melted,
and blossoms instead shall fill with fragrant epitaphs
the death of Old Man snow at last,
then I’ll embrace like I do now –
The present moment,
The here and now.
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Imagine not recording this moment.
Imagine sacrificing it to a higher cause…
Delusion!
An utter sense of hysteria
coupled with an idea
of value, a worth
uncertain,
a worth unproven.
Imagine sacrificing this moment,
not recording this moment
because you thought silence was better!…
©TheHairyTeacher2014
A coin, a dice, a chance but nothing.
It falls and fell before and after.
We are as we were and therefore defined:
yet predetermined.
Our destiny is merely this –
our humanity.
Our life, our belief, is because we do exist
and we forget.
We are, and this is it!
©TheHairyTeacher2014
