I’ve been writing these silent songs since I was fifteen. I started one wet afternoon and while it wasn’t initially clear to me what they were, or why I wrote them, I kept going. Eventually, I learned perhaps they were poetry (whatever that was). I’m proud of some of what I’ve written; the concise way I occasionally managed to summarise or communicate what I was trying to understand. That said, for much of the rest of my writing, frankly, I’m embarrassed. Don’t they call it ‘teenage’ angst? Over the past twenty-two years I have taken inspiration from my own life and lives of people around me, the things I read and saw and anything that caught my interest. In many of the poems I tried to put myself in the place of someone I knew and then write from their perspective.
A KISS FROM A STRANGER (2005) Those voices on the stairs, they whisper poems Like those eyes in the mirror, they aren't mine There are hands in my bed, pushing me out That conversation with my father, it wasn't real Those kisses in the dark, they don't exist (I don't care who you are) All together the doubt is growing And the fear of never knowing What these creeping figures think of me Are the things, I bleed to make, adored I can't stand the sight of my own handwriting But I know I HAVE to keep trying Cause every now and then I get a kiss from a stranger And it tastes good And it makes all of this worthwhile This empty house is full of love, for a second... (I don't care who you are, just...) I don't care, just kiss me! ELLIPSIS (2014) I don't write them like I used to now they're not carved out of my bones like they used to be I don't bleed all over the carpets in some mouldy rented bathroom like I used to They used to say it was the angst that drove me some mild flair for painting what had pained me but you have to make peace eventually and I don't know what is driving this anymore At the end of the line there's an ellipsis at the end of all I said there's an ellipsis saying so much more than I Now I don't sweat it out in twisted sheets with cramped heart and cracked beliefs surrendering my barbed emotions like a flag the way I used to I don't tap that vein of pure unfocused bile don't let it gush across the front row of my imagined audience they don't say much about my unbridled verse these days like they used to At the end of every poem there's an ellipsis at the end of all I said there's an ellipsis dragging on and on Saying more than I ever could... TIGER MOUNTAIN (2014) I have fallen for the mad ones and the sad ones and the ones who don't know what they want I have found that mania so consuming confused depression for deep thinking I've tried to heal the cracked ones and piece the broken ones together... Oh I have tried to climb that mountain with broken ankles... I have lived off the wild ones brought calm to the angry ones laid down with the tired ones and slept I've ridden with the seesaw ones always wondering where I stood felt lost with the wilful ones and cried beside the bitter ones Oh I have tried to climb that mountain with broken ankles... I've walked across the weak ones swum naked with the free ones reached out for the timid ones but found no hand waiting there I have been ungrateful for the nicest ones been bored by the honest ones prayed for the fickle ones to change knowing no love could bloom there Oh I have tried to climb that mountain with broken ankles... And I have wondered loudly why I never could reach the summit with my broken ankles... THE LIGHTHOUSE (2015) There are these nights like clockwork I find myself ticking up stone steps at the lighthouse There are these nights cloaked in melancholy staring out, wide-eyed across the freezing seas of time There are these nights I sit, quietly, by the lens wondering of all the other nights I have sat quietly wondering… A thread of light stretches backwards through all my life sewing together these contemplative moments connecting me with my younger selves We all sit there on different steps looking out to sea with our lifetime of bad haircuts and our silver fountain pens each one more expensive than that preceding We all wonder in an echo we all wonder ‘Am I right? Is my aim true? do I have any aim at all? O, where… am I going?’ I long to reach out a hand somehow send out a boat to them I worry for those lost faces adrift on wild seas rocking in churning waters without a lot of hope Through the thick blanket of night I sense the face of a future me he looks healthier, happier richer somehow looking back across the freezing seas of time fondly and encouragingly he’s smiling back at me…
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
My Body Gets In The Way (11/06/2018)
Pocketful of Rain (10/06/2018)
Cabin To Cabin (28/05/2018)
Friday Night, We Walked Along The Beach (05/01/2018)
Cooling Towers (18/10/2017)
Death Is The Only Song (17/10/2017)
Tan Hill Inn (20/06/2017)
Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/tom
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