Diff’rent Times

IM000029

Lots of people have assumed this is about relationships. It was never written with that intent, but if you want it to be, that’s cool too.

Diff’rent Times.

Reason’s are fading.
As the sun’s sinking.
Surrender to feelings.
Relinquish our thinking.

As the sun fades, we come alive.
– Back to square one again.
Same place, just diff’rent times.
Same place, just diff’rent lives.
Same place, and nobody minds.

As the moon soars, we shed our skins,
– Turn back the clock again.
Same time, at a diff’rent pace,
Same time, with a diff’rent face,
Same time, another place.

Under starlight, we drop our screens,
– Changing the world again.
Same lives, diff’rent ideas,
Same lives, diff’rent hopes and fears,
Same lives, but it’s still so unclear.

Just a diff’rent permutation, diff’rent twist.
Taking our turns as through our lives we all drift.
And time looses meaning, with the fading sun.
Night time beckons us – two become one.
– Taking a chance to fix the damage we’ve done.

And at sunrise, back to the dream,
– Facing the world again.
Same mouth, with a diff’rent smile,
Same face, slightly diff’rent eyes,
Same voice, but the same old lies.

But the river’s still running,
Heart’s still racing,
And you still feel the yearning,
But don’t change anything…

13th March 2000

No Stairway? Denied!

imagesRemember Wayne’s World, in the guitar shop? I’m sure there’s a whole list of songs that guitar shop’s ban – “Hotel California”, “Smoke on the Water” and “Freebird” all must be pretty high on that list too.

This one started off as a sort of tribute to Wayne’s World as a parody of “Stairway to Heaven”. I distinctly remember the first two lines originally were “There’s a lady who thinks, That life itself stinks”, but it quickly morphed itself into something else. I’m kind of pleased with it, even though it works to the a fore mentioned Stairway…

Road to Damnation

There’s a girl who believes,
She’s beyond all reprieve,
& she’s paving the road to damnation.
On her death bed she’ll see,
That she could have been free,
Just a smile would have brought her salvation.

& she’s paving the road to damnation.

& the words on her grave,
Mark a soul to be saved,
Leave no doubt of the route she has taken.
As a biting wind blows,
There’s a raven that crows,
& it speaks of a soul that’s forsaken.

& it makes me wonder

I find it hard to forget,
As I watch the sunset,
‘Cause my psyche, is aching to join her.
In my dreams while I slept,
& the tears that I’ve wept,
But her voice is still haunting & luring.

& it makes me wonder

& if we wait long enough,
Though the waiting is tough,
There’s an angel, will take us to heaven.
Re-united again,
& no longer in pain,
& a dove will supplant the raven.

& it makes me wonder

Hear wind disturb the forest leaves,
If it might please,
My lady’s waiting on my shoulder.
I’ll willingly follow down the same road,
Seldom trodden,
No longer scared of getting older.

& it makes me wonder

As I drift resting, dreaming, sleeping,
No longer weeping.
See Jacob’s ladder descending.
An angel whispers on the mistral,
& I now know,
Our time is surly now coming.

As we rise higher in my mind,
Our souls forever now combine,
There waiting on a golden throne,
Templar Queen no longer leaving us alone,
Rest our heads upon her knees,
Recall the whispers on the breeze,
& the lesson’s fin’ly seen,
We’ve always been one & the same,
& our lives are just a game…

& she’s paving the road to salvation…

July ’98

To What has come to Pass

broken-heart.jpg.653x0_q80_crop-smart.jpgUnrequited love (sigh).

Hurt’s doesn’t it? We’ve all been “friend zoned” sometime I guess.

To What has come to Pass.

The time has come to draw a veil,
Over disappointments, and past betrayals.
To carry them on – a pathetic farce,
It’s time to face opportunities passed.

To each room of mem’ries, I’ll visit in turn,
And snuff each candle so it no longer burns.
Draw the curtains, and close the blinds,
Spread the dustsheets of my mind.

But there’s one room I must stay a while,
Gaze on the picture of your smile.
Your golden hair that frames your face,
Can’t bring myself to leave this place,

But leave I must, or else go mad,
Coveting what, for me turned so bad.
I close my eyes, at me you stare,
The scent of Elnett on your hair.

And wonder what might have been,
If I’d chosen you to be my Queen,
But I took the cowards’ path instead,
For fear your laughs would strike me dead.

I’ll still close the curtains, to keep me sane,
And cover the perpetual pain.
But hope makes me wonder if there’s still a chance,
For us to take one last dream-dance,

Maybe the time will be away so far,
But this room’s door, I will leave ajar…

20th September 1998

The Miscreant of Misery

d6a105b7142ac8c95e47de3c89b541acI admit that I’ve been a bit hesitant to post this and a few others, more to do with the subject matter, & “outing” myself as someone who has suffered from depression. But if this blog is about being honest about feelings, then I guess I should include the ones perceived as negative, as well as the positive too. I also would say I found writing far more cathartic than any medication or positive thinking courses that Doctors may have prescribed.

The Miscreant of Misery

Feel the knots in your stomach,
Like your first broken heart.
But the pain won’t go away.
Fill your life with tedious mediocrity,
But you act out your part,
You know the knots are here to stay.

A gaping hole in your heart,
Of an infinite size,
Still filling it is all you can do.
You kid yourself nightly,
‘Til you believe your own lies,
Behind your eyes – you know the truth.

Fill every day, every hour,
To blot out what’s lost.
And time will tend to your wounds.
Pray in your despair,
Deliv’ry from the past,
And pray for delivery soon.

The miscreant of misery,
You taste his chaos,
But time will surely tell.
Looking in the mirror,
See perpetual loss.
And remember your personal hell.

Wear a smile on your face,
And don’t let your mask slip.
It will help you face the world.
Laugh and joke with the others,
Don’t let them see you trip,
One day your burden might just unload…

2nd August 1998

A Flower

50b1645ea58e04946e88c629be03e200Oh err Mrs, a mucky one.

A Flower

Kissed by gentle sunlight.
Sap rising in the morning.
Turn faces to the glow.
Lips touched, begin their warming.

Captivating scent.
Aromatic, yet still fatal.
Intoxicating flower.
Bittersweet petal.

Musky aroma drifting gently.
Stamen proudly swollen.
Anticipation rising.
Dusted with your pollen.

Desire heightened by your fragrance.
That fill’s me ’til I’m bursting.
Quench my burning hunger.
Leave me spent and breathless panting.

15th November 1998

Your Place in the Multiverse

multiverseAnother Un-Newsletter from the early 2000’s.

Your place in  the Multiverse

It was about 2.30am this morning when I found myself in a taxi rank outside of Reading station, after a great evening out in London. Behind me in the queue was an undergraduate from Reading Uni, complete with “skater-boy” look and obligatory bum-fluff on his chin, probably studying either philosophy, psychology or theoretical physics and obviously more than a bit worse for wear and desperately trying to impress the young girl he was with, with his knowledge of string theory, worm-holes and sub-atomic particles. I even chuckled to myself when he brought up Schrödinger’s Cat, and in his semi-inebriated state got it all wrong – not that she noticed, or was in the slightest bit interested – could almost tell she’d got to the point where he’d pulled, as long as he he shut his mouth and didn’t bore her silly with his inane drivel, but he was probably still too young or drunk to figure that out for himself.

I eventually climbed into my taxi, got home, and after waking up, spent most of the day nursing my own hangover, giving myself plenty of time to ponder the events of the day before and much more besides and I found myself mentally wandering down an avenue extrapolating some of the things he’d said, mixed with my own idea’s, thoughts and whimsy’s of the moment.

It occurred to me though, that in many ways, we already exist in the multiverse he was describing, but perhaps not nearly as spectacular or exciting as Science Fiction may have us believe – its estimated that there are over six billion people alive on the planet at the moment. And that means over six billion different points of view, opinions, perceptions and personal prejudices out there, in effect we all exist in our own little personal version of the universe.

When I try to comprehend that sort of figure and that many diverse ideas out there I find my brain turning to mush and I give up, it leaves me feeling very humble, insignificant and in awe of life. When you couple that fact with when two or more people do get together and something clicks, “two or more worlds collide”, and you make a connection just because some of those ideas and feelings coincide, it’s a really special moment, and makes me realise just how precious and fragile life is. Especially when you consider most people spend most of their lives living in “their own little world” it makes it all the more special.

But it begs the question – What did you do today to reach out beyond your own little multiverse, connect with someone and make a difference to them today? And what will you do tomorrow?

Sept ’04

Masks and Veils

TATTOO3This again, started off as a poem, but with a bit of tweaking to make the scanning tighter and (the addition of a chorus, which I’ve omitted here), Mike turned it into a song.

Masks and Veils.

If I look closely I can see the scars,
From the times you’ve tried and failed to reach your star.
You lock it behind the mask that you wear,
But I can see through it – the mask that we share.
Hidden behind all your laughter and smiles,
I can hear the crying brought on by your trials.
You’re trying to smother it behind a facade,
But you can’t keep it hidden ’cause you’re trying to hard.

I can feel the hurting you’ve hidden away,
Think if you ignore it, it might go astray.
You lock it behind the mask that you wear,
It may be well hidden, but we know it’s still there.
There’s a hunger that’s eating at you from inside,
And you’re fast running out of places to hide.
You try to shield behind a veil of mystique,
But it’s sapping your strength and making you weak.

You and me both, we’re just one and the same,
Laugh off the suffering to hide all the shame.
You’re turning your back on a need to be loved,
Tender hands hold it in an iron glove.
Not prepared to open up and trust,
Push me away, what we could have, turned to dust.
And we lock it away behind the mask that we wear,
And deep down you know it’s a mask that we share.

If I look closely I can see the scars,
From the times you’ve tried and failed to reach your star.
You’re trying to smother it behind a facade,
But you can’t keep it hidden ’cause you’re trying to hard.
You’re turning your back on a need to be loved,
Tender hands hold it in an iron glove.
And we lock it away behind the mask that we wear,
And deep down you know it’s a mask that we share.

26th June 1999