ENDGAME

'NIGHTFALL GAMBITS'

Words, words, words.
Words pouring from my sore head 
Onto the screen; black on white.
Not quite a symphony in ink; 
But near enough, yes? 

Too many doubts and fears? 
Too much crap clogging up 
The pipes in your mind? 
LET IT OUT [!]
Clean out the rotten system.

All the people
Picking apart pain;
Chugging the balm
From sleek Olympian chalices; 
Calming nectarous merriment.

But fear is invading; 
A fleet of scares and sorrows
Including the fear of fear itself:
Muscles twitch and limbs shake; 
Will I be whole again?

Three colours of my moods:
Gold, silver and blue.
Not enough of the former,
Too many of the last: 
Improvement needed fast.

Hope for the best. 
Pray for the best. 
Prepare for the worse. 
It was ever thus.
Wasn't it?

Trapped. 
Twice trapp'd: 
Alone on the outside;
Alone on the inside. 
Doubly damned?

Set up the board, nicely. 
Do I play for checkmate? 
Stalemate? 
Zugzwang?
Or another option?

I move my pieces;
So does my opponent. 
I simply don't want to lose.
But is that enough?
Enough for victory?

Wednesday continues apace. 
Hours are long, days are short;
The sun will soon set in the west.
Just a game -- but the result? 
Time will tell.

 

BETTER IS BEAUTIFUL

As youths at school -- in what seems a whole lifetime ago, now, elderly fellow that I am -- we were sometimes asked by teachers what we wanted to be when we grew up. 

After two decades of being an adult and gracing a few arenas of employment, I'm still deciding. 

But this one goes beyond career or other signifiers of adulthood or tangible achievement: 



'GROWING TOWARDS THE LIGHT'

What do I want to be? 
I want to be better.

I want to give out a smile
Not expecting one back. 

I want to speak out 
Even though it might cost me.

I want to personally make sure
No-one feels left behind.

I want to go thru a single day 
And not once feel despair.

I want to recall my life's mistakes
Without beating myself up for them.

I want to look in the mirror 
And think: "Yeh... he's alright."

Praying for miracles? Perhaps. 
But worth dreaming of, yes?

What do I want to be? 
I want to be better.

 

DEPLETION BLUES

Continuing today's theme of Buffy's laugh-a-minute, "tremendous fun Tuesday" [with my apologies for the mild sarcasm]...


'INSUBSTANTIAL'

Out of coherence:
Blurred image in the mirror
Staring back at me.

How to move forward?
Holding my soul together
With mere safety pins. 

So: All will be well...?
Sometimes it feels not enough
To know this is true.

 

THUND’ROUS THOUGHTS

Monday again? Wow. The days can be long but the weeks are short...
This non-haiku is inspired [such as it is] by a dream:


'NORTH-EASTERLY GALES'

Longing
Lingering
Looks.

Soaking in soft psychological suds?
Get out of that warm bath; 
It's time to get hikin'. 

Get out of my head! 
Don't be singing, full-throated,
The Ballad of Chevy-Chase. 

Lord Northumberland
Or Lord Douglas; 
Which old antagoniser am I?

A bitterly grey afternoon 
Searching for singular bits of my mind
On the cool, rolling Cheviot Hills. 

Mad Scots and Englishmen? 
They'll fight 'til the day's done.
The tribes are familiar to me: 

Spoiling for a scrap
They reflect my inner-combat,
And the impossibility of peace.

I know full well I'm not alone.
And yet? 
I am... oh God, I am.

Battered by storms and doubts 
I charge for the cottage; 
The neutrality zone.

Safely inside,
I deliriously bolt the door
And check the tinted windows.

Blackout curtains shut?
I then will myself
Into meditation.

I've shut it out,
The whole of the virulent world
And I am alone.

But I forgot, didn't I?
My own worst enemy;
He who hates so much. 

I'm alone with him now;
We've a board game to play:
He won't stop 'til he's won.

Think of me, won't you? 
Sitting quietly in this cottage;
A half-happy prisoner.

I won't give in just yet:
Trying to maintain resistance 
From one minute to the next.

 

SOLE FLAME OF BEAUTY

'IN THE MIDST OF THE ECLIPSE'

Foulness in the air. 
The heady aromas of awfulness.
Bitterness surrounds. 
Dark days.
Dreary days. 
Days of ice cold apathy. 

So? 
If you've any energy left at all?

For fuck's sake: smile.

Even if it's a bad one,
Or a slightly embarrassed half-smile: 
If it has warmth in it, it'll do.

Give out as many smiles as you can. 
Because, after all? 
For some people that you smile at? 
It will be the only warm thing 
They'll get in their life today. 

Be the pinprick of starlight; 
Be the stab of blazing light;
The blazing light of sweet humanity 
Amid the freezing darkness.

A single smile is a flame
That sets souls and dreams alight.

LONG LOST WEEKEND

'LEISURES'

Sweet Easter weekend?

A languid, reflective time;
Believer or non-believer. 

Appreciating life;
And what we love
Or have loved. 

Four days? 
Four moods: 
Hopeful, hearty,
Stressed and sad. 

These moods? 
Sometimes consecutive
Occasionally concurrent.
For now I'll be content
To be inconsistent. 

Hot handful of friends; 
Many mirthful words,
Thoughtful phrases, 
Delicious nonsense
And a few small drops 
Of lusty Socratic wonder. 

Lashings of saucy cider;
Whimsical whisky later:
Drowning in the delight 
Of a balmy British spring.
Days of jubilant joie de vivre;
Heady laughter to drown out
The steady hum of darkness. 

The final day begins: 
Time for WordPress? 
Not enough. 
Time to enjoy the company
Of blogging chums? 
Not nearly enough. 
A most happy addict, me: 
Wanting more of my fix.

 

MISERY AIN’T PERMANENT

'EPHEMERALITY'

Misty, cloudy mind;
I feel too disconnected.
My thoughts need order. 

I understand now: 
"Out of sync" and "out of reach"; 
Two perfect phrases. 

What would I give, now? 
To feel attached to the world? 
A priceless feeling. 

The mistake I make? 
In feeling fleeting despair
To be permanent. 

Each day? It brings gifts:
Hope and possibility.
So we must reach out. 

Write yourself a note: 
DESPAIR IS EPHEMERAL.
Stick it on your fridge.