Old Romantic

An old romantic born in the wrong decade
tries to swoon the one he desires with roses and chocolates
while everyone he knows cringes in embarrassment.

She just smiles politely and accepts the gifts,
unsure of whether or not she should speak up now
and let him know this is far from what she had in mind.

He continues to wine and dine her in futile hope,
seeking to sweep her off her feet and carry her over the threshold
to lay by her side having made beautiful, passionate love all night long.

She sits quietly in false pretence while he writes the cheque,
afraid of breaking a wonderful heart who wants to bring only joy
to her life, a smile to her lips and love to her world.

And as he approaches her door, hand clasped in hers,
he swoops for a kiss that he has imagined in his mind
over and over, believing his dreams were about to come true.

But she stops him, as she was always going to,
a lone tear welling in her eye, and she says sorry
over and over, one thousand times in all before shutting her door.

And that night they slept in separate beds three streets away
from each other, both thinking of the other but for different reasons,
One living in lust, the other wishing for love and someone to hold.

(this is the poem I wrote having watched 500 Days of Summer).

There We Go

There we go, hand in hand,
Walking along the endless sand,
Moving in slow motion now,
Embracing this, kissing her brow.

Side-by-side at the tide’s edge,
Making to each other an undying pledge,
To never let go no matter what,
Even if in life’s rush we’re caught.

All of this is recorded on tape,
It now provides a grateful escape,
When things fail to go as right,
I can replay this moment and remember that night.

I smile watching myself kneel before her,
Producing a ring to secure our future,
A solitary tear rolls down my cheek,
As she bursts out crying, unable to speak.

And no matter how many colours life refuses to show,
I can turn on this tape and just watch us go.

Shades

A pair of shades plonked on my face while I lay blinded,
Stopping beams to let me see through a cold light of clarity,
A ceiling awash with shining brightness is reduced to pockets,
And I can finally gaze upon my friends’ faces without fear.

A feeling erupts in my chest with ever increasing drumming,
Pieces are preciously placed within the well-worked gear box in my head,
A year behind is left behind with the dead, gone and loveless,
And I can finally look forward with trusted people at my side.

Songs selected are more positive than at anytime in recent memory,
Beats and rhythms, laughing and singing, preferred to introverted piano sounds,
Companionship and dancing sought instead of silence in solitude,
And I can finally move freely without thinking of only gaining.

Every thought, choice and action is carried out to live right here and now,
Every jaunt and venture undertaken to create memories to cherish in old age,
Reckless abandon is the only philosophy adopted by any of us,
And I can finally follow it without any self inhibitions and sly intentions.

A pair of shades plonked on my face have restored my sight's line.

(I was in a friend's house, lying flat on my back on his bedroom floor while six close friends sat on two beds, one either side, three and three - somebody plonked a pair of sunglasses over my eyes and the idea for Shades came to me).

The Coast

Walk out along soaked sand and dead sea weed,
Out to the vast and endless sea,
And wonder while you walk in shallow puddles,
Does anybody ever stay to watch them roar?

As others walk their dogs along the coast,
One old man walks his on the seabed,
Fearless of the tide’s unpredictability,
Dispelling irrational fears.

A woman collects shells inside the coast wall,
Each shell reminding her of a friend,
Everyday she finds four new shells,
To leave on four friends’ graves.

Shadows of ravens soar in the sunlight,
Ominous in their black pack,
One white gull follows slowly behind,
Encouraging in its caw.

As you smile at seeing such relieving sights,
A sunbeam flashes for a split second across the sky,
In its shape you recognise your father,
And you know everything will be ok.

And leaving your stepped seat four rows down,
Will make you feel ten feet tall when the time is right.

SBS

I walk, and then we stop to admire,
You talk, and then we kiss to aspire,
Want to, but then we just have to give up,
Need to, but then we admit being stuck.

Walking backwards along tightropes,
Below, pure concrete coaxes, and I’m scared.

We go, and run right and left on a split path,
We sow, and shout and scream until we just laugh,
Want you, but my laugh is sad and resigned,
Need you, but my life has been pre-tuned and refined.

Swimming against the current in the ocean,
Below, circle the sharks, with teeth bared.

You leave, and ignore my calls to stay with me,
I grieve, and slowly start to drown in this empty sea,
Want friends, but fail to find any in this lashing rain,
Need friends, but find myself deserted with nothing to gain.

Standing on the brink of existence covered in cloud,
Below, my friends laugh, my loathing shared.