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Sea

Branches with silver leaves

Swaying gently in the breeze

Behind it a blue morning sky,

Announcing the day to come.

The smell of the sea stings a little,

The sounds of waves crashing in the distance

Remind you of where you are.


And you hear something new,

A guitar, not far,

Voices singing with that morning dissonance,

Inviting heads to turn,

People to come out of tents,

Other morning voices to join.


For a moment,

Despite how

Tired,

Sunburned,

Mosquito-bitten,

Or dirty

You might be,

It feels like you’ve found a patch of heaven on earth.

In this moment everything is fine.

You start humming along to the song,

Slowly getting up from the place you slept,

And you feel like you’ve been here all your life.

You know these strangers by name,

Somehow in the night they became family,

Uncomplicated and open,

And you’re finally home.

 
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Posted by on 6 July 2020 in lost things

 

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Alone

I’m fucking tired
It hurts…

“What hurts?”

Everything…

“Why?”

I don’t know
I wish I did
Maybe I could make it stop

“Maybe this is all your fault,
Maybe this is why they leave,
You’re too bothersome.
So you end up alone.”

Maybe
But I know I’m not alone
I need to keep fighting
My friends need my help
I can still be useful

“Why can’t your friends help you?”

They can
Sometimes
But right now they have problems of their own
So I have to deal with this on my own
It’s ok really

“‘Cause you know if you put yourself first they’ll leave.”
Read the rest of this entry »

 

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Loss of Inspiration

Peace… serenity… a deep untamed plain with untapped secrets before me. I search for the inspiration as it gives itself up to me, bit by bit, by an art that few have mastered. I am patient because I am confident that ,given the time, a new story will be born from the ashes of that rich desert of unseen riches. I know that those who believe what they see are blind. 
I am almost there… that idea, that inspiration is so close I can smell it, I could touch it if I stretched- MUNCH MunCh mUNcH “watcha doin’?”
I calm down and try to forget the irritation of being torn from this meditation as I answer “writing…”
He looks doubtfully at the blank page on my phone:
“No you’re not, you haven’t written anything”
“Because I’m waiting for inspiration…”
“What you’re just waiting? You know that’s not going to work right?”
Thank you Mr know-it-all but I’ve written far more stories than you…
“Mmmhhhhmm…”
Because I’m going to ignore that ignorant remark…
“Tell me when it doesn’t work”
Okay genius… I think as I sarcastic-look him away. 
Finally I can try again… sLURp… *dogfeetnoise* pitter patter pitter patter… BROLOMBODOM *dogcomingdownthestairsnoise*

On the Ning Nang Nong 
where the Cows go Bong!
And the Monkeys all say Boo!

SluRP *milkshakenoise* whirrrrrBOOMclac *slidingdoornoise* creak creak creak *someonewalkingupstairsnoise*
Every noise has a name. 

There’s a Nong Nang Ning 
Where the trees go Ping!
And the teapots Jibber Jabber Joo.
 

I’ll try again then – *theme music and annoying game music that follows during the entire game (meaning a long time knowing him)*
Exasperated I give up and move upstairs and he didn’t even see me leave, he was so engrossed in his game…

On the Nong Ning Nang 
All the mice go Clang!
And you just can’t catch ’em when they do!

So it’s Ning Nang Nong!
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning!
Trees go Ping!
Nong Ning Nang!
The mice go Clang!
What a noisy place to belong,
Is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!!

………………………………………
Poem: On the Ning Nang Nong by Spike Milligan

 
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Posted by on 13 May 2014 in Banzaï

 

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