Sunday, Sunday

Sunday, Sunday
Day of ritual things
Roast dinner in the oven
Resting tired wings

Plans are made
And papers get read
Lazing about is an option
No matter what is said

Guys wait at bus stops
Groggy from the night before
Ladies walk gently
Feet in pain from the heels they wore

Cars get some attention
Washed and cleaned and scrubbed
Plants and garden flowers
Get tenderly loved

Sandwiches are made
For the famly picnic in the park
Kids ride the roundabout
Till it gets too dark

But it's not Sunday for all
For some it's a normal day
They'll get their rest time
Just some other way

But for those with
An endless choice of day
There's something so relaxing
About Sunday, Sunday

At the end of the day

When things have gone wrong
In the course of the day
You need a little something
To blow the blues away

So grab what you need
Be it love, somone near
To give you a lift
And wipe away every tear

For nothing matters
When you lie down your head
Close your eyes now
No more words to be said

And wait for the dawn’s light
Let it fill up your heart
Every day’s a new beginning
Another chance, a fresh start

Hinges

I don't feel like talking
Have no words to say
That I want anyone to hear
Not forever, just today

I don't feel like speaking
As I won't make any sense
I'll offer nothing in return
There'll be no recompense

A wordless day
Though it's not my way
Just empty deep inside
Won't be easy for you
When all I'll do
Is disappear and hide

Life is a two way street
An open book, a swinging door
But tired of it all now
Can't let you in, don't want anymore

I find myself restless
It all feels so very wrong
Like I can't recall the words
To my favourite song

A world away
Not a normal day
Any smile is belied
Thinking of you
What can I do 
To find my missing pride

I know I can't stop the hinges
From letting you through
I'll hold you off, just for a while
But will be glad when you finally do

Ghost Islands

I see your white lines on the road as I drive
A warning, an indication, to help me on my way
I pay careful attention to you
Know that you help protect me every day

Others seem so less cautious of you
Drifting in and out without a care
Risking not just their own hearts
Barely noticing you are there

But you are always here for me
Salvation or a trip wire you’ll be

Ghosts driven over
Sometimes will bite back
Thoughts brought to mind
Turn a bright day to black
It takes just one memory
To turn it all around
Feelings that you considered
Long buried underground
Words or phrases
That now seem to connect
And you just can’t imagine
The impact, the effect
Pulling you down
Like you never knew they could
Changing you in an instant
Hurt replacing good

And now those lines have a reaction
Be it real or just in my head
I know I’ll still be thinking of them
When I lay down restless in my bed

They just bring up so much within me
Not healthy, I know that for sure
Feelings I’d long since shyed away from
Knowing I could not endure

That you are always here for me
The trip wire I knew you’d be

Ghosts driven over
Sometimes will bite back
Thoughts brought to mind
Turn a bright day to black
It takes just one memory
To turn it all around
Feelings that I considered
Long buried underground
Words or phrases
That now seem to connect
And I just can’t imagine
The impact, the effect
Pulling me down
Like I never knew they could
Changing me in an instant
Emotions an uncontrollable flood
Changing me in an instant
Like I wish they never could

Write myself down

You ever have that half awake/half asleep semi-conscious moment just before you fall asleep?  I have lost count of the times I’ve thought of a great lyric, a brilliant line for a song or a speech I’ve been writing, then fallen asleep happy.  Come morning, I’m wracking my brains for all it’s worth trying to recall that thought, but it never, ever comes through.  Seems that moment of genius is just that, not to be repeated.  It is maddening, frustrating, and really bloody annoying.

I remember a book by Tom Clancy where one of the key phrases from the plot was “If you don’t write it down, it never happened” May be Tom was reading my thoughts. I started to try and avoid the forgetfulness of a nights sleep, and take a pen and pad with me to bed so I could document that thought, that line, that quote but to be honest, I thought that was a bit sad, so gave up.

Before the days when mobile phones were all singing and dancing, but could just make a call, I’d often phone the office voicemail system and leave the line for me to gather next day.  The amount of times I came in to the office first thing and saw the light denoting a message, and surprised on playback to find it was me that left the message was, quite frankly, startling.  It seems that once I’d unburdoned my mind with the thought, I lost all recollection of it.  With the increased functionality of mobiles, I started trying to use voice memos on the phone, but in that weird stupor, I had trouble operating the machinery.

Fortunately, that moment is not the only time my brain is active and generating, but often I find the missing piece of the jigsaw in that moment.  I’d have the basic idea of the poem or piece I wanted to write, but looked for that something, the line that would stick, bring it all in to focus.  It’s this line, this hook that would come late at night.  Forgotten the piece would be left idle, gathering dust.  Line recalled, documented, I would complete the piece and wear a self-satisfied inner smile.

But this completion would then lead to the most important element, the delivery, the sharing.  And this is a relatively new thing for me. Previously, only the odd person had any access to any of the words I’d write, and that would be limited indeed. May be I’d hand over some words to the song-writer in a band I’d played in, but it would go little further than our small group.  Now that I seemed to have arrived in blog-land and things are there for anyone to see, it only makes writing that special line down more important. More vital.
For one so secretive about who they are and more, I find it surprisingly easy to share my thoughts with you this way.  And what’s even more astonishing to me as I type, is the depth of feeling I put in knowing where the piece will end up.  I won’t hold anything back when I scribble, otherwise it wouldn’t be me.  That would be fine when it all stayed on a piece of paper, or the external hard drive attached to one of my machines, but here it’s live and in colour, which makes it seem even more of a conflict with my reserved, private self.

Despite the openess, there are still some internal boundaries.  I won’t post some things, the more personal, raw feelings I’m experiencing.  “A funny fish” was a description a friend recently applied to this private/not-so-private thing I have going on.

And I suppose they were right. Up until recently I wouldn’t even put a picture of myself on my twitter profile, hiding away behind plastic cups and other strange things. So many people asked about my picture or what my real name is, as that still doesn’t show.  I’d always answered “What’s in a name?” or similar.  People wrongly or rightly assume things, and I’d rather people took me for who they found talking back to them, rather than the image that my name brought to mind.

But all the while the secrecy thing was going on I was posting here, baring parts of me that have not seen the light of friends or public day before, showing who really was behind coke cans and creme eggs.  So it didn’t really matter what I looked like, did it, or what my name really was? I’d written it all down all ready, you got to know me from the things I said, and occasionally did. You just didn’t have a picture to go with it.

And this is in part a thank you to you.  I said the other day that I’d had nice help to get to this point, and I did, from you.  In reading things here, asking me about me, it’s helped me write more, write freely, write me.
May be Tom Clancy was right.  I wrote it down, may be I happened.  And with this happening, I hope you know a bit more of me now. I know I do.

Then dare to dream
Imagine it all coming true
The impossible is possible
Believe in you

You have the courage
To reach out for your prize
The end of the rainbow’s waiting
I can see it in your eyes

Drive

I recall the times I’ve driven this road
Every week for three long years
Heading the wrong way at the start
Reversing course days later to end the tears

The homeward view feels like my friend
Always welcome, makes me smile
I don’t mind the sweeping turns and boring straights
Lasting for a while

And I remember almost every inch
Of road that lines the way
I remember all the bumps I drove
Towards you each Friday

And now those times are left behind
I don’t disappear with Monday’s dawn
But I still love heading up that road
No longer feeling torn

So when the wheels are turning
And I’m north by north west bound
The feelings all come flooding back
And I drink in every sight and sound

Wishing

 

I don’t make many wishes
Not the kind of thing I say
I’ll take life as it comes to me
Every single day

But I wish I knew the person
Staring back from the mirrored wall
Sometimes I simply don’t recognise
That me at all

And even though we’re talking
Just the odd word or two
You’ve said we are OK
But I’m not sure if that’s true

So my final wish is one
That you won’t answer I know
I wish that you would tell me
What I did to upset you so

One Eye Open

It’s 4am, I should be sleeping
But lying next to me
Is a little itchy five year-old
For whom I feel so sorry

Her eczema drives her crazy
Especially at night
She’ll scratch and tear and rip her skin
Not a pretty sight

So while she tries to sleep here
Till the break of day
I’ll keep one eye open
To make sure that she’s ok

And through the night she’ll search
For the warmth that I emit
And throw a leg or an arm at me
Sometimes it scares a little bit

And she insists on kicking off
All the covers from the bed
Time and time and time again
I just smile and shake my head

But when morning is accompanied
By her pretty smiley face
I’ll forget the terrible night we had
As we share a litttle embrace

Tweet unanswered

An innocent question turned in to quite a morbid tweet exchange between a few people at the start of March regarding losing friends on twitter.  This centred around having tweets and even Direct Messages (DM’s) go unanswered, leaving you wondering where the receipient was.  As seperated as we are from each other by both location and information, this is a real possibility, and raises the big question “What has happened to them?”

Within a couple of hours I’d started a note on my iphone, ready to document the thoughts that were running through me. What would happen if someone disappeared, simply deleted their account or even died?  How would I know?  How would I ever find out?  How would I ever make contact with them, if I could?

You see, the thing that’s so different now is that people can become friends, and very close friends via mediums like Twitter. You might know their name, roughly where they live.  You could know so many things about them, their habits, likes and dislikes without ever having met them or heard their voice on the phone. It’s like pen-pals but of the instant variety, but with pen pals you at least had a location to start any search. I left the notes I had input on the keypad on the phone and the thoughts went to the back of my mind.

A couple of days ago a friend had an unpleasant dream around this issue, which got me thinking again.  For me, the not knowing would be the worst thing.  If scanning newspaper and online articles gave out nothing, I might never know what had happened to my friend. I could think of nothing worse. I’d want to be there for them, help them. To be a friend and not be there in times of need? I could think of nothing worse. Isn’t that what being a friend is all about?  It is to me, and how could I ever describe myself as someone’s friend if I wasn’t there when they needed a hand, support or just a hug.  As ever, I leave you with my thoughts in verse form on missing my friend.
 
Tweet Unanswered

You talk to me, I talk to you
There’s love for you inside my soul
I look forward to the time we share
But I’m nervous now, can’t control
The feelings that wash over me
When there’s no response from you
There’s just no reply at all
Can’t find you don’t know what to do

You know I’ve watched the timeline
With such intent, and ferocity
I can’t see a reponse to our secret call
You’re not where you said you’d be
No number plate to find your car
No place that I can ever see
Where I could come and find you
Share some laughs, a smile, some tea

Now you’re missing, my only thought
Is to find you, hold you tight
Let you know you’re still in my thoughts and dreams
Every morning, every night
Cause I don’t think I can stand it
To watch my friend just disappear
My day is just so empty
Without you close without you near

I may have never heard your voice
Or the way you laugh out loud
But caling you my friend, my friend
Makes me truly proud
And there’s a gap in my heart now
That you’re no longer here
I’ll keep watching the timeline
And hope you hear my silent tear