#13 Me and My Thoughts

It’s hard to be.
Hard to be me,
Hard to be
The person I want
Me to be.

I want to get out.
Get out of my head,
Get out
My own way
When my head flips out.

I sit and think.
Sit and think about life,
Sit and think
About my
Life and what others think.

I doubt my thoughts.
Doubt my thoughts on me,
Doubt my thoughts
About who I am,
Me and my thoughts.


#11 Moments of Silk

The time we spend, curled up, stretched out, together, it’s silk. Exquisite and delicate. But it slips through my fingers. The cliché is “like water”, but that’s too harsh, too rapid and finite. Silk flows away with grace, with airiness. It strokes and tickles as it goes, leaving a few last delights, but it goes just the same. That’s the moments we spend together. They’re wonderful, but too hard to grasp. I want to cling on, sometimes I manage to grip and get a bit longer in that time and space, but the moment always ends up falling away.

And yet, out of silk, wonderful clothes can be made. Things that can be worn. That stay put. It takes time, it takes patience and it takes work, but out of the material something lasting can be stitched. And maybe silken moments can be made to last as well.

#10 Stars

Astronomers raison d’être.

Pin pricks of light

and all that bullshit.

Why do we go on

and on

and on and on and on about them?

Sure they’re pretty, all sparkly and bright,

but its the spaces in between that are the real delight.

What if, just imagine,

There were no more stars.

Just darkness.

Our rockets aiming for nothing,

Our eyes focussed downwards.

Think of the canvass that would be above our heads.

And the attention we might pay to those in our beds.

Or just the world around.

No more looking up at night and dreaming,

We might get stuff done;

solve crime,

make peace.

We’d have extra time.

But then again,

it would be a bit sad.

Dreams make us human,

they not really bad.

So we’ll keep the stars I guess.

For the dreamers, but importantly too,

for the astronomers,

without stars, what would they do?