Flogging A Dead Horse

an-ode-to-a-thistle-21225853Flogging a dead horse

Am I a misguided apostle?
To a solitary thistle,
But I can see beyond your thorny points.
Hardened by biting weather,
You dwarf surrounding heather,
But prickly barbs are too sharp to surmount.

Can see blue/purple petals,
But would need a skin of metal,
To approach close enough to inhale.
Watch the flower turn to pollen,
Indicating you can soften,
But your spiny darts ultimately prevail.

Tantalising glimpses of you tender,
Helpless, I’m left rendered,
Can’t get beyond your caref’ly crafted thorns.
Do you know you’re so appealing?
Or are you toying with my feelings?
Keep your armour plates – the like of me to warn.

2nd April 1999

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Stood the test of Time

antique-clock-wallpaper-mobile-whj.jpgAt the risk of getting a bit sentimental & cheesy…! (OK, so there’s nothing wrong with a bit of sentiment & cheese, really, but shhh, we’ll keep it our secret, OK?)

This was one that Mike started. Certainly most of the first verse & at least half the chorus, although I can’t be exact – he already had a nice, acoustic folky melody for it, but had got stuck lyrically & wanted to write something for his wife for their anniversary. So who wouldAll I did was play with the weather theme really.

Stood the Test of Time.

Have you seen the sun?
Shining in the sky,
Have you ever wondered?
Asked the reason why?
Have you seen the rain?
Beating on the glass,
Unlike the way I feel for you,
I know it’s sure to pass.

No matter what’s outside,
Rain or wind or shine,
I know you’re always there,
We’ve stood the test of time.

Have you seen the snow?
Glistening on the ground.
Lasts for such a short time,
Melts without a sound.
But all I have to do,
When we’re far apart,
Remember the way you love me so,
And you still melt my heart.

Have you seen the mist?
Hiding in the trees,
Haunting forest spirit,
Carried by the breeze.
And when I lay me down,
I can see your eyes,
Pierce me like a ghostly spear,
And all my worries die.

No matter what’s outside,
Rain or wind or shine,
I know you’re always there,
We’ve stood the test of time.

Have you heard the wind?
Whipping up the sea,
Howling round the crows’ nest,
Tearing canvas free,
If you should ever leave me,
Forget to call or never ‘phone,
‘Cause the thought of loosing you,
Chills me to the bone.

April 2000

 

All Too Hard

Well, seeing as I’m back to posting, (at least for now 😉 ) thought I’d strike while the iron is hot and add another. This is another oldie, not so much about unrequited love, more about when you just get all tongue tied around someone you really, really like (or is that just me? 😉 )

Again, this one has a melody, so leaving the chorusy bit out:

All Too Hard.

So hard to find the words,
And make them sound sincere,
Mists absorb emotions,
Turn them all unclear.

So hard to find expressions,
To say what’s in my heart,
Overwhelming feelings,
Means I don’t know how to start.

Too hard to find the courage,
To say what you mean to me.
Your shinning eyes so piecing,
Paralyse me helplessly.

Too hard to find the phrasing,
They all sound so clichéd.
But your smile so disarming,
Leave me all but crushed and slayed.

Too hard to find moment,
It never feels OK,
To open up my heart to you,
So I’ll bite my tongue again today.

Too hard to ask the question,
It just twists and turns inside.
To ask it would be too greater a risk,
Of fatal damage to my pride.
25th May 1999

Coming to terms with rejection

change-curveI’ve been a bit lax recently in posting so here’s a few to make up for it. A selection that  kind of go together as a set. Lost love, sigh. (& the woman who taught me what a broken heart really feels like)

Not my best work by a long, long shot (Weeell, except for the second and fifth ones, I quite like them). But taken as a  series of scribbles, I can look back and trace the grief curve through them as a collection.

 All from late 2002 and early 2003.


Denial:

Tell me

Tell me your dreams,
& tell me why,
You be the spider,
I’ll be the fly.

Tell me, tell me, tell me

Tell me you’re thoughts,
& fantasies too,
You lure me in,
& make them come true.

Tell me, tell me, tell me

Whisper to me,
You’re darkest desires,
& we can extract them
we can entrap them
we can enact them
– make them real for a moment

Tell me, tell me, tell me

Open to you
Secrets kept safe
Locked in you’re heart
Or minds Prison cage

Tell me, tell me, tell me

Tell me your dreams,
& tell me why,
I’ll be the spider,
you be the fly…


Anger:

Tissue of lies

Tissue of lies,
– a strange fabric of choice for a strange fabrication,
Transparently thin, gossamer delicate,
But deceptively strong with only passing investigation.

Tissue of lies,
In mansize three-ply boxes,
You pass them around to dry crocodile tears in,
And wipe away the mascara scar trails with.
Two hundred sheets,
Plenty more where they came from,
Discarding one for the next as they fill waste-paper baskets.

Tissue of lies,
To erase the deceit,
That passes your lips,
Whose traces linger,
In Max Factor crimson.

Tissue of lies,
A pastel rainbow of choices,
Choose the colour with care for your next deceptive conquest…


Bargaining :

Rainbows & Roses

Is it over?
Don’t say it’s over.
I don’t want, to hear goodbye.
I can feel,
All your confusion,
But I don’t want, to make you cry.

We were rainbows,
Rainbows & Roses,
Give us a chance, another try.
You’re letting slip,
Something so precious,
Rainbows will fade, & roses die.

I still feel,
Your love around me,
When its quiet, & I close my eyes.
It keeps me safe,
When I’m tird & cold,
& its still there, when I rise.

& I don’t want to feel like this any more,
Feel’s like life has kicked me ‘cross the floor,
You were my Oasis & I was yours,
We were safe behind closed doors.

I know you’re scared,
I know you’re hurting,
I am too, need you by my side.
Still love & want you,
Please just trust your feelings,
No need to run, no need to hide.

I’m lost here,
Here without you,
But I look up, in starry skies.
Just tell me,
You still want me,
& then to you – I’ll fly.


More Bargaining:

Triangles & Squares (An apology)

I gave to you, that which you lacked from him.
And that which she could not accept from me.
I gave in the hope that perhaps one day,
You might want to give it back to me.
I also pretended to myself that I was giving unconditionally,
But its clear now that that presumption was folly.
I also suspect, that you all along knew the assumption I failed to see.
& that was why you walked away.
Or maybe what it was, was that you needed the gift,
To come to you from him not me.
But the irony was that I could see
That for all his words, he was not capable of giving to you.

So now we find ourselves.
Me here.
You there.
Both alone.
Licking our wounds & injured pride.

So what is next?
Will our friendship be rekindled anew?
Or are our paths now set to part?
Yours to the left, mine to the right.
Perhaps only time will tell.


Grief:

The TV set

It was like watching TV.
An old black and white set.
Grainy picture.
Hissing, crackling sound.
But it was all that had ever been experienced and known.
The rental company turned up oneday.
And put a shiny new digital surround sound technicolor one in its place.
So vibrant.
So crisp and clear.
Near perfect.
So much more – a whole new experience in televisual entertainment.
But they came back.
Took it away.
Said it had been a mistake.
Put the old one back in its place.
It doesn’t get used anymore though.

I want the new one back.


Realisation:

Beware the Eyes of March

Eyes of an angel,
Eyes of steel grey,
Eyes like diamonds,
Eyes watching their prey.

I’ll never erase the look that night,
As your eyes glazed over in rapture.
As we blended our souls,
On brown sweaty leather.
As we fueled eachother,
Unleashing a passion.

Locked in a frenzy,
Looks of desire,
Eyes hiding nothing,
As we fucked by the fire.

But something was missing,
As you gazed up at me,
Biting yout lip –
became plain to see.

Your eyes told me secrets,
Your eyes told me all,
The lies that you lips said,
– I’d been played for a fool.

Eyes full of ice,
Eyes full of venom.
Eyes full of acid.
Eyes full of poison.


Acceptance :

Gentler Times

Maybe once again in more gentler times,
I’ll be yours again & you’ll be mine,
Punishment we’ve chosen doesn’t fit our crimes,
But maybe things will change in gentler times.

Maybe sometime in less damaged lives,
We’ll know each other from the look in our eyes,
& We won’t hurt each other & recognise the signs,
Because we’ll be living in more gentler times.

Maybe we’ll find in simpler days,
We’ll see the whole spectrum – no more shades of grey,
Then we’ll understand & won’t fade away,
& We’ll be together in simpler days.

Maybe someday I’ll believe it when I say I don’t miss you.
Sometime I’ll believe that I don’t need you still.
Maybe one day I’ll believe it when I say I don’t want you.
Someday I’ll believe that I don’t love you still.

Maybe sometime in less damaged lives,
We’ll know each other from the look in our eyes,
I’ll be yours again & you’ll be mine,
& That’ll be the sign of more gentler times.

200112300901lh3p

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

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

Suburban Camelot

Castle_Cam_04.jpgThis one was written specifically as a song, and my friend from the Isle of Wight did put it to music, was written as a duet because I had a secret agenda – his daughter had a fantastic singing voice, & I really wanted to sing a song with her. I remember experimenting with different endings – a happy one, a sad one, but ended up preferring the ambiguous one.

Suburban Camelot

No more dragons to be slain,
No more damsels in distress,
There’s a knight in shinning armour,
Still looking for a quest.
And he’s feeling so tired,
Should he hang up his sword?
But he don’t know what to do,
To keep from getting bored.
And the armour he wears,
Is fast loosing it’s shine.
Should he give up his grail quest?
Take up a new line.

And it’s all broken down, no chance for repair.
And it’s all broken down, no chance for repair.

There’s a woman, who’s seen,
That when her kids have grown,
She’ll have outlived her usefulness,
The day they’ve flown.
And the apron she wears,
As she washes the plates,
Is feeling so heavy now,
Just like leaden weights.
Because she kissed a prince,
Who turned into a creep,
And he takes her for granted now,
And makes her feel cheap.

And it’s all broken down, no chance for repair.
And it’s all broken down, no chance for repair.

And it’s all broken down, no chance for repair.
And it’s all broken down, no chance for repair.

And the knight drives by,
And he passes her door,
Unaware of the sorrow,
That’s gone on there before.
And he puts on the brakes,
As she crosses the road,
Shopping bags and a pushchair,
The smallest of her loads.
Will he put in first gear?
What else could he do?
Should he whisk her away?
– We’ll leave that to you…

Has it all broken down, no chance for repair?
Has it all broken down, no chance for repair?

25th July 1999