All entries for Saturday 16 January 2010

January 16, 2010

Love and Blackberries

I.

Maybe we’ll be lucky this time…

What happens now? I know:

There’s no reason, there’s no rhyme.

Tell me: are you happy now?

What happens now? We know.

Trying to let go; you cling on fast.

Tell me: are you happy now?

Will I ever laugh the last?

Trying to let go; you cling on fast.

I find it hard to find this fun.

Will I ever laugh the last?

We fight, we love and then I run.

I find it hard to find this fun.

It happens over again, stuck on repeat:

We fight, we love and then I run.

Never will I miss my beat.

It happens over again, stuck on repeat.

Maybe we’ll be lucky this time?

Never will I miss my beat.

There’s no reason, there’s no rhyme.

II.

What happened many summers past,

Two young schoolgirls in the thorns.

In the heat, blackberries rot fast,

As their old experience forewarns.

Two young schoolmates in the thorns.

We knew to eat them straight away,

As our old experience forewarns,

But each time we would delay:

We knew to eat them straight away

Before they became sweet sticky juice

But each time, we would delay

Staining our hands and clothes puce.

Before they became sweet sticky juice

One time, you ate them all. Alone.

Staining your hands and clothes puce.

I never had berries of my own.

One time, you ate them all alone.

What happened many summers past?

I never had berries of my own…

In the heat, blackberries rot fast.

III.

Settings change, but the hurt will last.

Bad times end; so do the good.

Blink and our lives will have passed,

Cutting deep, but you see no blood.

Bad times end: so do the good;

On repeat go the same tragedies,

Cutting deep but see no blood.

Everything’s the same, always is.

On repeat go the same tragedies.

Time to shed the regrets, that I can’t bear.

Everything’s the same, always is.

The memories that smart, that I can’t share.

Time to shed the regrets, that I can’t bear.

The story won’t end; just replay the song,

The memories that smart, that I can’t share.

The sands will flow my way before long.

The story won’t end; just replay the song.

Settings change, but the hurt will last.

The sands will flow my way before long.

Blink and my life will have passed.


The Snowman

I can

Still see what’s left

Of my melted snowman.

A puddle, which will turn to ice

Quite soon.

And we

Didn’t even

Go flying together

The way that he promised we would.

Bastard.


What Neil Gaiman wants for me this year

Plagiaristically based upon Neil Gaiman’s blog entry on Thursday 31st December 2009: http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2009/12/wishes.html

This was written for 2010, but feels more appropriate for 2011.


This will be the year that

I’ll be dangerous, outrageous,

My dreams courageous.

There’ll be magic and madness,

No long-lasting sadness.

I’ll be loved and liked,

I’ll have people to love, to like.

I’ll live,

As only I know how.

I’ll give

As only I can.

I’ll be wise when the need does arise,

But be kind at all time.

I’ll kiss someone who thinks that I’m wonderful.

And finally, at some point,

I’ll surprise everyone,

Including myself.


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