Once Upon A Time.

It’s funny to think about where we all started,
Once upon a time;
The things that brought us together then,
And what they meant to our lives.

The things we learnt,

The tales we told;
Our stories intertwined.

Time played out

Through companionships
So intrinsic to our lives.

And it’s funny to think about where we are now;

Such different places in life.
And the things that keep us together now,
Despite the passing of time.

The tales we tell,

So different now;
Such different paths
Taken through life.

New companionships,

New lessons learnt;

Different roads we’ve travelled by

Pulling us away from where we all started,

Once upon a time.

Yes, it’s funny to think about where we all started,

Once upon a time…

The beginning of a story I started writing recently...

It wasn’t for money that he wrote into the early hours of the morning, anymore than it was for money that she courted the rich and the famous, heading back to theirs in the early hours of the morning, while he was perfecting a description of a childhood home, or a revealing soliloquy by his current antagonist. They did what they did in the belief that they were pursuing the way of life best suited to their inclinations and abilities, and so believed themselves to be largely happy. They were not people who judged other ways of life, or felt it was right for anyone to criticise theirs (the woman being the more likely to receive criticism though the man had had his fair share, as some people’s perception of writing as “not a proper job” had reached his ear), They were both, then, people who understood the lack of a fixed way for living life, and understood that we must all improvise; creating something like a path for ourselves as we go, with no guide to help us…other than social normality which can often be contrary to our desires and for some people cause great unhappiness.

The flaw, however, in the man’s perspective, was that he did not see that he was limiting himself; denying himself experiences that he craved because he believed that as long as he could, with his mind, imagine all of life’s infinite experiences laid out before him, then he would have no need to even leave his house except to buy food. Which might well have been true for some, but for him, in doing this, he was denying a part of himself which whole-heartedly craved to really…do something. Perhaps he was afraid; afraid of attempting and getting no where, and therefore thought it better to not attempt at all.

The woman, meanwhile, was lacking in understanding in two aspects of her life, both the clichés for women of her lifestyle. First, for many men with whom she was involved with were married, was that she did not think of those she might hurt. This was not a problem with all men; but it was with a substantial number. The second was possibly even more cliché than the first; she was slowly harming the way she felt about herself.

Little To Say To This.

There is little to say to this;
Little to answer
To the questions
(Though of those there are many)
And little to know,
In the End;
In Practical terms -
Though in Theory there is much.

And so in a few simple Truths -
That might as well, and could be,
Lies -
We will hide ourselves,
Till the time when we will know
No more
And no less
Than before,

But it will be Everything.

December Bee.

There’s a part of my brain
That likes to entertain
The notion that I am the same
As everyone else,
And that it’s all OK;
None of us are really sane
And it’s all one big game
Of pretend.

We’re playing at normality;
So then it’s not just me,
Who looks around and cannot see
Any semblance of Reality

December Bee
December Bee…

But then I stop, and I think,
“What if I am insane?”
(There’s a pleasure in this pain…)
Maybe the world is not so strange;
It’s all just inside my brain;

This hollow, aching, fucked up hell
Is not that which outwards dwells…

I hope all will be well.

Dancing.

She didn't dance to forget. She didn't dance to loose herself. She did just the opposite. She danced to feel…to feel intensely happiness or love or loss or hope or despair or heartbreak or pain. To let music and emotion move through her and move her, and to feel herself feeling and thinking and emotion and music all consuming and powerful and real and just to feel; feel her body and her self.

(photo taken by me @ Ministry of Sound)

The Captain.

"Son of Henry, I'm the first in line
To the throne, smell my mustard gas
I slash swords through your wooden spine
Well it cut my heart and it blew my head
We made love at the side of the road
Reflex, you better know this flows fast
This river is particularly sinister
Close your eyes and take my hand"

"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by frost."
- - - -J. R. R. Tolkien "Lord of the Rings"

"I wanna scream one last death medley
I am looking for a reason to secure a forward motion"

"The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say."
- - - -J.R.R. Tolkien

"Angels fall to the floor
Like they would if I was captain
"Silver children," She roared
"I'm not the son of God"
Somebody help me sing
Can anybody hear me?
Liars and lovers combine tonight
We're gonna make a scene"

"Rest not! Life is sweeping by; go and dare before you die.
Something mighty and sublime, leave behind to conquer time."
- - - -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"Help me be captain of
Our crippled disguises
I won't show what's underneath
It's time for surprises
I can't climb up your ladder
I can't ride your horse
I've swallowed half an hourglass
So now the landscape is swollen up"

"And with tears of blood he cleansed the hand,
The hand that held the steel:
For only blood can wipe out blood,
And only tears can heal."
- - - -Oscar Wilde "The Ballad of Reading Gaol"

"I gave birth to a fire
It's like it's features where burning
I'm in control, I am the son of God
Somebody help me sing
Can anybody hear me?
Line up your soldiers one final time
We're gonna have a ball"

"But if you ever come to a road where danger
Or guilt or anguish or shame's to share.
Be good to the lad who loves you true,
And the soul that was born to die for you
And whistle and I'll be there"
- - - -A. E. Housman

"Face to face with the ball and chain
I'll poke my head up till its red
I tell my secrets and you took my pain
About a broken heart and I will do it again
Son of Henry, I'm the first in line
To the throne, smell my mustard gas
I slash swords through your wooden spine
Well it cut my heart and it blew my head"

"What matters Death, if Freedom be not dead?
No flags are fair, if Freedom's flag be furled.
Who fights for Freedom, goes with joyful tread
To meet the fires of Hell against him hurled."
- - - -Joyce Kilmer "The Peacemaker"

"Somebody help me sing oh
Somebody help me sing oh"
[The Captain - Biffy Clyro]

"Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be.
The last of life, for which the first was made."
- - - -Robert Browning "'Rabbi Ben Ezra"

"Love that golden rule, that golden rule
Need that golden rule, that golden rule
Secrets are the truth, they are the truth
We need that silver rule, that silver rule"
[The Golden Rule - Biffy Clyro]

"And all shall be well
And all manner of things shall be well.
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire,
And the fire and the rose are one."
- - - -T. S. Eliot "Four Quartets"

Nanowrimo extract #3

“It doesn’t seem fair, you know. Because she wanted to live; more than anything. And I…I mean…before I…yeah. And even after meeting you two…it still feels like it was the wrong way round. I got the chance to live that she wanted.” The tears started to well up in her eyes. Dylan put his hand under her chin and pulled her head up to look at him.
“But that’s just…it’s just what happened. It’s not your fault and it’s not…it’s not unfair…it’s just…what it is.” He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Do you miss her?” Emily said softly, in an almost whisper.
“All the time.” And then he could feel the fears welling up in his eyes too.
“So do I.” And then she kissed him.

He knew it was a mistake as he kissed her back. He knew it was a mistake as he pulled off her top. He knew it was wrong and strange and that they’d regret it. They both knew. But still, they made love that night, and for many nights after. Both trying to make something OK that couldn’t be. Not in that way. Not like that.