Friday, 24 July 2009
Monday, 2 March 2009
nonsense
the following is a poem, part of it makes up the track names for one of my favourite albums.
sometimes we all need a bit a of nonsense in our lives.
The famous speaker who no one had heard of said:
Ladies and jellyspoons, hobos and tramps,
cross-eyed mosquitos and bow-legged ants,
I stand before you to sit behind you
to tell you something I know nothing about.
Next Thursday, which is Good Friday,
there's a Mother's Day meeting for fathers only;
wear your best clothes if you haven't any.
Please come if you can't; if you can, stay at home.
Admission is free, pay at the door;
pull up a chair and sit on the floor.
It makes no difference where you sit,
the man in the gallery's sure to spit.
The show is over, but before you go,
let me tell you a story I don't really know.
One bright day in the middle of the night,
two dead boys got up to fight.
(The blind man went to see fair play;
the mute man went to shout "hooray!")
Back to back they faced each other,
drew their swords and shot each other.
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
and came and killed the two dead boys.
A paralysed donkey passing by
kicked the blind man in the eye;
knocked him through a nine-inch wall,
into a dry ditch and drowned them all.
If you don't believe this lie is true,
ask the blind man; he saw it too,
through a knothole in a wooden brick wall.
And the man with no legs walked away.
sometimes we all need a bit a of nonsense in our lives.
The famous speaker who no one had heard of said:
Ladies and jellyspoons, hobos and tramps,
cross-eyed mosquitos and bow-legged ants,
I stand before you to sit behind you
to tell you something I know nothing about.
Next Thursday, which is Good Friday,
there's a Mother's Day meeting for fathers only;
wear your best clothes if you haven't any.
Please come if you can't; if you can, stay at home.
Admission is free, pay at the door;
pull up a chair and sit on the floor.
It makes no difference where you sit,
the man in the gallery's sure to spit.
The show is over, but before you go,
let me tell you a story I don't really know.
One bright day in the middle of the night,
two dead boys got up to fight.
(The blind man went to see fair play;
the mute man went to shout "hooray!")
Back to back they faced each other,
drew their swords and shot each other.
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
and came and killed the two dead boys.
A paralysed donkey passing by
kicked the blind man in the eye;
knocked him through a nine-inch wall,
into a dry ditch and drowned them all.
If you don't believe this lie is true,
ask the blind man; he saw it too,
through a knothole in a wooden brick wall.
And the man with no legs walked away.
Thursday, 26 February 2009
sometimes
boredom causes me to do many things, today, just now even, i was looking through my flickr, i deleted some stuff i felt wasnt up to the standard of other photos i had on there, i also found this photo (posted at the end of this writting), it made me think sometimes there are golden moments, i think i was lucky enough to capture one with this picture, its one of the few photos ive taken that i am and i think always will be very proud and pleased with, i never tire of looking at it.
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Lucy
lets get lost in the winter of our youth
and find the wilderness of our dreams
in moments spent with you i loose myself
found again in a fleeting joyfull memory
everytime my skin touches yours
my thoughts betray me
and my memory is useless
for each time i see you
its like ive never before
if happiness is but an illusion
brought upon by the insanitys of life
then i wish to spend my life dilluded by you
my words are hopeless
my romance is endless
ive lost myself in you
This was a valentines present, or part of it at least.
and find the wilderness of our dreams
in moments spent with you i loose myself
found again in a fleeting joyfull memory
everytime my skin touches yours
my thoughts betray me
and my memory is useless
for each time i see you
its like ive never before
if happiness is but an illusion
brought upon by the insanitys of life
then i wish to spend my life dilluded by you
my words are hopeless
my romance is endless
ive lost myself in you
This was a valentines present, or part of it at least.
Footsteps Towards You
theres a sinking feeling in my stomach
everytime i step foot in your house
and i cant keep putting this off anymore
i must face what i hide from
6 months curled up in my dark corner of the world
my room has become a stuffy prison cell
in which my thoughts have become my guard
tormented by the pain, the grief of you
how do i accomplish anything without you in my life
so many things have changed
but im not running away from this anymore
to many wasted days, too many sleepless nights
waking up alone has become my simple life
my key to life is motivation
your loss has to be my path to finding it again
ive lost you but ive not lost our connection
you are forever in my heart
everytime i step foot in your house
and i cant keep putting this off anymore
i must face what i hide from
6 months curled up in my dark corner of the world
my room has become a stuffy prison cell
in which my thoughts have become my guard
tormented by the pain, the grief of you
how do i accomplish anything without you in my life
so many things have changed
but im not running away from this anymore
to many wasted days, too many sleepless nights
waking up alone has become my simple life
my key to life is motivation
your loss has to be my path to finding it again
ive lost you but ive not lost our connection
you are forever in my heart
Forbiden Love
As I blankly stare into your eyes blankly staring back at me,
it feels like my entire world fills up to the brim with glee,
but your not mine, you can never be, not really,
because unfortunately your only just a wax dolly.
it feels like my entire world fills up to the brim with glee,
but your not mine, you can never be, not really,
because unfortunately your only just a wax dolly.
Dark Streets.
turning tricks down shady cobbled corners
with an eye patch to cover the cataract
caused by a life so grim you stand there thin
shaking in the cold world of despiration
half cold, half making up an addiction
fine wine and linen never touch the skin
spilled fluids and fists shake me to the core within
im only 21 and my idea of fun
would be if this life had never begun
we are all creatures made of our environment
what does it say when all i know is abandonment
daytime theft and picking pockets
stealing wallets and golden lockets
are the only options for a lack of cash to pay the bills
i'll never be rich enough for jewels and an ivory tower
someone of my stature doesnt deserve more than the gutter
dreams of a better life
just arent worth the strife
but at least im alive
im not dead nor dying
with an eye patch to cover the cataract
caused by a life so grim you stand there thin
shaking in the cold world of despiration
half cold, half making up an addiction
fine wine and linen never touch the skin
spilled fluids and fists shake me to the core within
im only 21 and my idea of fun
would be if this life had never begun
we are all creatures made of our environment
what does it say when all i know is abandonment
daytime theft and picking pockets
stealing wallets and golden lockets
are the only options for a lack of cash to pay the bills
i'll never be rich enough for jewels and an ivory tower
someone of my stature doesnt deserve more than the gutter
dreams of a better life
just arent worth the strife
but at least im alive
im not dead nor dying
If I had a son.
"If I had a son…"
I would tell myself, among the other things that I would say with the voice in my head.
"…I would do right by him."
"I would teach him that the entire world was his, within in which to make his dreams a reality."
It would be my hardest challenge in life, but I would make it my greatest goal to achieve. If I could make him a free thinking, logical being with the intelligence to be himself and go about making his life the best for him, his family and those close to him, then just maybe I would of done something right, something in my life would have meaning (not that I’m admitting that other things in my life lack meaning or that there are things I’ve done that weren’t just or done for the right purpose). This son of mine, although currently non existent (and in my current state of age and mind that’s how id like it to stay), but if I had a son, it would not only be my wish to do everything in my power to make him the best son possible, but also for me to be the best father, regardless of circumstance, regardless of all the good and evil in the world. I have a moral compass and I have the inclination to be the best that I can, among other qualities, these are things I wish to pass on, I wish them to be a sort of legacy, no one wants to be forgotten, some want to live forever, but not me, id rather be a legend that never dies, someone once told me
"heroes get remembered, legends never die"
I’m not sure what it would take for me to become a legend, maybe I never will but perhaps its the small things, maybe its the things that you don’t notice, or the things you don’t do on purpose maybe they are the more important things. Obviously certain things you can’t avoid, there are accidents, some good and others are bad, but they happen. It’s how you deal with these situations that really show your true character. I don’t know what other people think of me or my choices, my decisions, whether I deal with things correctly or not, but I don’t really care, I try my hardest and do the best I possibly can (more traits that I would like to pass on). But this is detracting from the sentiment I was trying to portray, that maybe the reasons we get remembered, are not because of the actions we make on purpose and knowingly go about because we know them to be a good or correct deed to undertake, but rather the things we do on a daily basis, the things that really make up our personality, the real things we pass on.
If a loved one dies, what do you think about? Is it an act of random kindness to a stranger in need? Is it the fact they taught you to ride your first bike? Or maybe you remember the way they liked to have there cup of tea (no sugar and quite milky, brewed for the right amount of time, not to short, not to long until “it goes black as boots”), maybe it’s the way they laugh, maybe it’s the way they cheered you with the simplest of things when you felt down.
Eventually we all die, we will all leave this existence behind, we will all leave behind us a trail and a legacy, for good or bad it will affect others, it may even change things, it may even affect another persons legacy, it may if your lucky enough taint the major history books of time, for most though it will just leave behind memories for a couple generations of your family. None of that matters really though, what matters is whether, when your lying on your deathbed, whether it be the cold hard concrete floor of a busy town centre while you lay half comatose from your current cheap tipple you filled your body with, surrounded by the daily rubbish and cigarette buts that litter the street around you, or whether lying in the comfort of a warm bed with close friends and family while you slowly feel your life depart you feel like you made the right choices in life and did the best you possibly could with no regrets.
At the end of the day that is the best kind of legacy to leave behind.
I couldn’t tell you what my legacy is “but if I had a son…”
I would tell myself, among the other things that I would say with the voice in my head.
"…I would do right by him."
"I would teach him that the entire world was his, within in which to make his dreams a reality."
It would be my hardest challenge in life, but I would make it my greatest goal to achieve. If I could make him a free thinking, logical being with the intelligence to be himself and go about making his life the best for him, his family and those close to him, then just maybe I would of done something right, something in my life would have meaning (not that I’m admitting that other things in my life lack meaning or that there are things I’ve done that weren’t just or done for the right purpose). This son of mine, although currently non existent (and in my current state of age and mind that’s how id like it to stay), but if I had a son, it would not only be my wish to do everything in my power to make him the best son possible, but also for me to be the best father, regardless of circumstance, regardless of all the good and evil in the world. I have a moral compass and I have the inclination to be the best that I can, among other qualities, these are things I wish to pass on, I wish them to be a sort of legacy, no one wants to be forgotten, some want to live forever, but not me, id rather be a legend that never dies, someone once told me
"heroes get remembered, legends never die"
I’m not sure what it would take for me to become a legend, maybe I never will but perhaps its the small things, maybe its the things that you don’t notice, or the things you don’t do on purpose maybe they are the more important things. Obviously certain things you can’t avoid, there are accidents, some good and others are bad, but they happen. It’s how you deal with these situations that really show your true character. I don’t know what other people think of me or my choices, my decisions, whether I deal with things correctly or not, but I don’t really care, I try my hardest and do the best I possibly can (more traits that I would like to pass on). But this is detracting from the sentiment I was trying to portray, that maybe the reasons we get remembered, are not because of the actions we make on purpose and knowingly go about because we know them to be a good or correct deed to undertake, but rather the things we do on a daily basis, the things that really make up our personality, the real things we pass on.
If a loved one dies, what do you think about? Is it an act of random kindness to a stranger in need? Is it the fact they taught you to ride your first bike? Or maybe you remember the way they liked to have there cup of tea (no sugar and quite milky, brewed for the right amount of time, not to short, not to long until “it goes black as boots”), maybe it’s the way they laugh, maybe it’s the way they cheered you with the simplest of things when you felt down.
Eventually we all die, we will all leave this existence behind, we will all leave behind us a trail and a legacy, for good or bad it will affect others, it may even change things, it may even affect another persons legacy, it may if your lucky enough taint the major history books of time, for most though it will just leave behind memories for a couple generations of your family. None of that matters really though, what matters is whether, when your lying on your deathbed, whether it be the cold hard concrete floor of a busy town centre while you lay half comatose from your current cheap tipple you filled your body with, surrounded by the daily rubbish and cigarette buts that litter the street around you, or whether lying in the comfort of a warm bed with close friends and family while you slowly feel your life depart you feel like you made the right choices in life and did the best you possibly could with no regrets.
At the end of the day that is the best kind of legacy to leave behind.
I couldn’t tell you what my legacy is “but if I had a son…”
Friday, 13 February 2009
P.D.M.
Have you ever seen a grown man break down and cry,
because hes to tired to try,
and hide behind his pride and lies,
hes to weak to move,
but hes got nothing to prove,
hes strong enough to weep,
and not reach for easy relief,
his grief is tearing him apart,
his head tells him "one life and one heart,
dont bother to depart, your still right at the start"
this man is me and i grieve,
in no higher power do i believe,
with no rest for my mind,
happiness seems very hard to find,
i'll miss you forever,
with every day my thoughts are with you,
even though i can not hear you or see you,
you will live on within me,
through my blood and my memory.
I wrote that for my grandad.
28/08/32 - 06/06/08
because hes to tired to try,
and hide behind his pride and lies,
hes to weak to move,
but hes got nothing to prove,
hes strong enough to weep,
and not reach for easy relief,
his grief is tearing him apart,
his head tells him "one life and one heart,
dont bother to depart, your still right at the start"
this man is me and i grieve,
in no higher power do i believe,
with no rest for my mind,
happiness seems very hard to find,
i'll miss you forever,
with every day my thoughts are with you,
even though i can not hear you or see you,
you will live on within me,
through my blood and my memory.
I wrote that for my grandad.
28/08/32 - 06/06/08
times change
my original intention with this blog was to post photos of mine and i guess create some interest in my photographic work, but basically i got bored of doing that and abandoned the whole concept.
so now im just going to write whatever the hell i feel like.
so now im just going to write whatever the hell i feel like.
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