Frank

Life’s complications,
Its worrying omissions,
Its many dimensions
And worrying superstitions
Choke young Frank like water in a rising ship…

He constantly runs his hands through his hair,
Hoping that something not there
Will suddenly appear
And make everything fair
In a world that quite simply isn’t…

He lives in denial,
Ignoring life’s trials,
Hoping everything will be handed to him
In one large ‘life & coping’ file
That’ll provide the answers he just can’t find himself…

"Who am I really?
Where is my she?
How can I be set free
From the confines of reality?"
He wonders these things everyday in silence…

He wants to try and forget,
He wants to escape his regret,
But his life’s not over yet
And this always makes him fret,
Since he can’t escape the past, he wants the end…

No one knew he was capable
Of being so unstable,
His constant smile was a fable,
One which keeping up was a struggle,
He never understood his place…

"Why am I here?
Why my constant fear?
Why can’t I live with the cheer
That makes people hold me so dear?"
He never understood anything…

In the end, it all proved too much
For Frank to live in a world of fictitious love,
He had enough of living in a sea of lies,
He had enough of being deceived by eyes,
He went to a tower, looked down at the ground…

Upon hitting the bottom...
"My peace was found…"

(I include Frank because Frank is a person who doesn't like to be left out of things, no matter how big or small - also, the narrative interests me, even if it could be argued the varying syllable lengths of each line potentially upset the reader's flow).

Our Last Chat

I remember our final words,
They sit vaguely in my memories,
I was heading to a rugby game,
Much to your surprise,
You asked me why…

I laughed and shrugged my shoulders,
Nothing else to do,
I’m sure that was my reply,
Myself and your dad went out the door,
I didn’t know that would be the last time I saw you breathing…

I can’t remember the conversation’s path
After ‘nothing better to do’,
I don’t recall any hints of your intentions,
All I remember are your smile and eyes,
They didn’t look like they wanted to die…

I suppose I was too young to read the signals,
Looking back now, I still can’t see any,
I guess I’ll never fully understand your motives,
Although I can make some educated guesses,
I know they are close to the mark…

Everything has moved so fast since that night on Tommy’s porch,
The world didn’t notice when your feet left the chair,
But I did,
We all did,
We still do…

And we always will…

Old Friendships Die

Five minutes in any direction,
Walking at my slowest pace,
Yet our differing institutions
Mean I never see familiar faces…

We all grew up together,
Hours were spent playing ball,
Once joined paths are severed,
Friendships take the fall…

Five of us are split by life’s path,
At different stages of our existence,
Will we even see each others epitaphs?
Only with continued persistence,
It all seems so crass
To pronounce our demise,
Yet our part in a divided class
Means, one-by-one, old friendships die…

It used to be everyday
That we spent together in rain and sun,
Now our being is in dismay,
Each other, we shun and shun…

The learning and the alcohol
Have become more important than us,
Salvation is an order too tall
To be asked of those who in blindness they trust…

Five of us are split by life’s path,
At different stages of our existence,
Will we even see each others epitaphs?
Only with continued persistence,
It all seems so crass
To pronounce our demise,
Yet our part in a divided class
Means, one-by-one, old friendships die…

I live so close,
Yet so far away,
These are the paths we chose,
Now we live each day…

In ignorance of what we once had,
Looking back is standing still,
A future with no us is so sad,
A void exists which can’t be filled…

Five of us are split by life’s path,
At different stages of our existence,
Will we even see each others epitaphs?
Only with continued persistence,
It all seems so crass
To pronounce our demise,
Yet our part in a divided class
Means, one-by-one, old friendships die…

Old friendships die…

Ideas

(under constant review)

The idea of having a reason to live,
The idea of achieving more than you think possible,
The idea of capturing and keeping the moment,
The idea of finding the one you love,
The idea of creating something permanent,
The idea that having two hearts could kill us,
The idea of inspiring,
The idea of being remembered,
The idea of making history,
The idea of being a role model,
The idea that beauty can cause destruction,
The idea of drawing millions,
The idea of being as happy as you can be,
The idea of waiting forever being completely worth it,
The idea of falling down,
The idea of getting back up,
The idea of seeing yourself in others eyes,
The idea of friendship barriers not preventing flourishing feelings,
The idea of making the ground thunder,
The idea of bringing joy and tears simultaneously,
The idea of being misunderstood,
The idea of death bringing something new,
The idea of pushing death aside to allow for birth,
The idea of shaping your own destiny,
The idea of living life to its full potential,
The idea of searching for the unexpected,
The idea of a promised dawn actually coming,
The idea of wishes made selflessly for others working in your favour,
The idea of stupid drama being abolished,
The idea of home being exactly that,
The idea of blind faith being rewarded,
The idea of honesty really being the best policy,
The idea of your loved ones being there forever,
The idea of the foundations you lay remaining strong,
The idea of walking away knowing you’ve done the right thing,
The idea of doing something properly,
The idea of ossification not leading to blindness as well,
The idea of a victory over circumstance being more than a dream,
The idea of being big enough to be small,
The idea of the feelings you feel taking shape in a person,
The idea of overcoming all obstacles in search of a higher purpose,
The idea of going home knowing you’ve earned it,
The idea that all of this is a gift,
The idea of permanent escapism,
The idea of being able to think freely without persecution,
The idea of making people proud,
The idea that everything you do isn't inconsequential in the end,
The idea of thoughts and dreams going on and on,
The idea of learning from others while remaining yourself,
The idea of creating something of life-changing importance,
The idea of being influenced before influencing,
The idea of having something to believe in…

The idea of having ideas…

(this poem is a catch all for any idea I have that I can't turn into a poem of its own - usually, lines that are added here are just random thoughts that I save as draft text messages in my phone, so all the random ideas jostling for prominence here no doubt contradict each other constantly).

Notches

I don’t know what to do,
A friend who once adored her
Would be unhappy if he knew of my feelings,
With her, he once had an obsession,
He has no right to be angry,
He chose to travel back to the past
Instead of facing reality,
He has committed himself to potential destruction again,
While also letting her fly away,
Like a wren,
He once proclaimed the strength
Of his own feelings for her to me,
Yet refused to wait for her to finalise her future,
He just went and added notches to his belt,
Until he come back to the very start again,
Back to his first and original notch,
Now worn and beaten from past wars,
And he allowed himself to fall again
For someone who he loves to hate…

I know, though, if I attempt anything with his brief flame…
His anger with me will last an eternity…
He should’ve thought of that before letting her fly away…