Category: Poetry

#PoeticAnswers 21 – Why Do I Buy Books Faster Than I Can Read Them?

In my room,
I have a portal to another world
And a solar system on my shelf.
A personal Eden
Built of recycled trees
And knowledge devoid of sin.

From whirlwind romances
To hideous creatures,
From nightmareish circuses
To heavenly prisons,
I have scoured, sought and salvaged
To create the greatest collection of all.

I am the Tolkein dragon of today,
But I don’t wear my leather-bound armour
And my treasure isn’t made of gold.
A modern day book-wyrm,
Fiercely protective and inherently selfish
When it comes to my “babies”.

They are more than just trophies,
They don’t just hang on my wall
Like a perverse, forgotten decoration.
Despite the landscape of spines
And the paperback mountains that litter the floor
I do pick up my portable adventures to the unknown.

I have dared to cross Charybdis,
And traversed the mountains of Transylvania,
I have sought sanctuary in the halls of Notre-Dame,
And battled basilisks and defeated death.
Stared down demon clowns and walked into the wild,
And despite the fear and danger, I always want more.

My vast wealth is now only measurable
In Penguin Classics and First Editions.
My desire for creativity without being creative
Has resulted in always wanting more,
A prison with bars made of pages,
A literal literary addiction.

So my wings, claws and eyes
Are always open wide,
Hunting for the next treasure
For my private and precious collection.
My hunger is ravenous, my thirst is unquenched.
No bookshop is safe.

Question from Audrey J. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 20 – What Have I Done With My Life?

I never accomplished
What I set out to do with my life.
I’ve been in a series of
Mistimed and unplanned misadventures
Which have led me to this
Period of questioning.

When I was a child,
If you had asked me
What I wanted to be when I grew up,
I would have said
“Astronaut or dinosaur”.
Given I’m not yet extinct,
I have failed in becoming a dinosaur.
And I’ll never be an astronaut,
Just because of who I am as a person.

I failed my four year old self,
And I’ve failed every other self that I’ve been.
But this does not make me a failure.

My car crash of a life
Was defined by an actual car crash.
One 2003 Ford Focus
And a series of somersaults
Helped put me on the path that
I now walk on.
I still need a walking stick in the winter.

But in that fell swoop,
I lost all confidence in myself,
My A in Higher Drama
Suddenly meant nothing.
Confidence was a thing of the past,
Years of youth theatre,
Learning support,
And occupational therapy,
Were undone.

I never stood on a stage for 5 years,
But I found strength through music,
Hiding behind a music stand and a viola,
Hiding under the stage in the pit.
Or staying behind the scenes,
Because no one pays attention
to the man behind the curtain.

But in my mind,
I was nothing,
I was a failure to myself,
A failure to my parents,
A failure to my suicide attempts
And the voices in my head
Only served as a bitter reminder to that.

I spent too long wondering
What am I doing, will I ever be something,
What will I accomplish, am I just nothing?
But what’s the use in wondering
When you can’t watch and wait for the future?
Because when you run from your past
You can only go forward.

If you had told me
That at age 25
I’d have a career in theatre,
I would have never believed you.
Because I always thought theatre was a hobby,
But people actually call me for my help and designs for
Lighting and sound.

If you had told me
That at age 25
I’d be on a stage performing,
I would have never believed you.
But now I’m pouring my soul and surrealism
Into performance poems that
People actually like.

If you had told me
That at age 25
I might not be the killing type,
I would have never believed you.
But thirty-two hospitalisations for
Suicidal behaviour later,
I’m still here.

Maybe I’m not an actor,
A dinosaur or an astronaut,
And maybe I won’t die before thirty.
But life doesn’t always go the way we plan.
Sometimes it’s better.

#PoeticAnswers 19 – Why Are The Selfless So Easily Forgotten?

They didn’t do it for them,
Because it was never about them.

They didn’t do it for the fame,
Because it was always just a job.

They didn’t do it for the glory,
Because there was no glory to be had.

They didn’t do it for a reward,
Because there was nothing to win.

They didn’t do it for the cause,
Because causality and casualty were too close together.

They did it because they had to,
Because they gave their life to something else.

They did it for us,
Because that’s what they were told to believe.

They did it for nothing,
And nothing accepted them because no one else would.

Question from Briar R. from Facebook.

#PoeticAnswers 18 – Why Do You Want To Work Here?

Sir, if you expect me to grovel,
Then I shall exceed expectations.
I routinely aim to exceed expectations,
If I was a Charles Dickens novel,
I would be Great Expectations.
I feel it should be expected
That I am expected to exceed expectations
And I expect that you agree,
And we can both agree on
Expectations I can exceed.

I feel that we can
Expand into the international market.
I know you don’t actually sell anything
But there’s a market for that.
There’s an app for that.
We can make an app for that.
There’s a market for an app
For people looking for a market
To make an app for,
And I can help with that.

This is a company that has family values
And I can relate to that.
I will relate to that,
I have relatives and relations that
Let me relate to that
On a relateable level
So I would be a perfect fit
Because we relate to each other
When it comes to building strong relationships.

Sir, if you expect me to grovel,
I will, but in all honesty,
I’m just in this for the money.

Question from a recent job interview.  

#PoeticAnswers 17 – If Someone Talked About You The Way You Talked About Yourself, Would You Be Their Friend?

I would be their friend.
I’m drawn to toxicity like
A heroin addicted moth to the flame under the spoon.
There’s so much that I shouldn’t want
But do out of a warped sense of necessity.

If they would be my friend
I wouldn’t need to be harsh on myself.
I could finally cut myself out of my life.
Cast off the shadows of self-doubt
Be the light of my own life.

But I wouldn’t.
Because happiness has never felt real to me.
I would always need someone to drag me down to reality,
Keep me rooted and unsupported,
Leaving me a weeping willow,
Wilted and hanging.

I’ve never spoken highly of myself,
I have no reason to because
I know myself like the back of my hand,
I know the story behind each and every
Unsightly scar, broken knuckle and ugly bruise.

I am the caesarean scar on my stomach,
Cutting away at myself,
Hoping for a new life
But nothing comes.

I am the bruise on the world,
Ugly and unwanted,
Trying to conceal but
Becoming more obvious.

Clumsy, broken, autistic,
Mediocre, lazy, alcoholic,
The monster in the basement,
The monster in the closet,
Could never own up to herself
Could never own up to his mistakes,
The teenage junkie who never grew up.

 

Question from Georgia B. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 16: When Are You Going To Have A Whole Brain Again?

Child,
I gave you warmth,
I gave you nourishment,
I did not give you my brain.
If I had, you wouldn’t ask this.

Child,
You have your father’s brain,
It’s as plain as the hose on your face.
Which you also inheritated from your father.
I can say you are definitely more like your father.

Child,
Did I give you my intrigue,
Or did your dad give you stupidity?
Why do you ask the most ridiculous things,
I heard you ask why the triangle had four sides.

Child,
It was a fucking square.
Why couldn’t you be a square?
I’m not angry at you sweetie, I promise.
I blame your father. I definitely blame your father.

Child,
You’re seventeen now,
You asked me how to spell DNA.
Not Deoxyribonucleic acid, the letters, DNA.
You make me want to test you to see if you have my DNA.

Child,
I didn’t give you my brain,
I didn’t give your brother my brain
Damn Kenneth, I didn’t give you my brain
But I swear you’re definitely making me lose it.

Question from Amanda P. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 15: Are You Being Cremated or Buried?

Jesus H. Christ,
You know how to pick your moments.
I wish I could say that
I haven’t given it much thought,
But for thirteen years
It was all I could think about.

Don’t complain at me for being morbid,
You brought the subject up.
It might take me a while to get to the answer,
But I’m hoping it’ll take a while for it happen
So let’s take a moment as I
Wax lyrical about the great inevitable.

So for music,
Have the organist play
“Phantom of the Opera” and “Whiter Shade of Pale”.
I cannot abide “Abide With Me”
I may believe in reincarnation,
But damnit I will circumvent my own cycle to haunt you.

Please don’t tell stories of what I did during life,
There’s a whole lot I don’t intend to tell my husband or wife.
No prayers and no sermons, avoid all religion,
Just avoid any talking at all,
I don’t want to take up your time,
You’ve got shit to do.

And when they drop me in the flames,
Use Doritos for kindling,
Chilli Heatwave not Nacho Cheese.
You’ve got to have standards afterall.
Play the Countdown theme as the flames take me,
Never let anyone say I never had whimsy.

If you must have a wake,
No booze, because I’m a dick.
And fill a pinata with bees.
Be happy but not too happy.
Play 90s dance anthems and
Rave on my grave.

And while all this is happening,
I’ll get to be alone.
Because while they’ve been
Crying and reflecting,
And going insane with my shitty choices,
I’ll be secretly being buried at sea.

Question overheard on a bus. People are weird.

#PoeticAnswers 14: What Is A Home?

A home is where the heart is
And the wifi connects automatically.

A home is what we built together,
Because the moment we met, we connected.
There was never a weak signal or
Stone walls in the way of our love.
You had my heart and I had yours,
Our bodies wrapped around each other
Like scaffolding conducting the
Heat and beat of our hearts.

A home is where the walls keep you safe,
Your arms were my walls and
You had my heart and I had yours
The foundation of our love was stronger than
Any form of bricks and mortar,
The fire in our hearts
Resonated through the walls and floors
And the echoes sounded like roars
In the halls of each other.

A home is where I expected us grow old
But all we did was grow cold to each other
Because there were cracks in the walls
That we covered with duct tape and paint
To keep things looking like they were okay
Rather than take the time to
Work together to fix it like we did before.
You put up doors and locked yourself away,
Leaving me wondering what mistake had I made?

A home is where there are no secrets,
But you built a nursery all on your own
And bolted the door to keep me out of your life.
The only time it was open was when you slipped away at night.
I thought we were in this together,
I’d have built you a wheelchair with my bare hands
To give you the support you needed,
I’d have built a crib with my bones because
I would have given everything to keep both of you.

A home is where you left our daughter
And now she’ll never know the value,
Of unconditional love.
Now there’s an empty hole where
Our heart and her bedroom should be
I’d have broken down everything in my way
If it meant I’d know the truth.
Because she would have been the only person
I could love more than I loved you.

A home is what you used to be,
Now your eyes are double-glazed over
And the warmth is already lost.
Now you’re an empty room with
A door I’m afraid to open.
I still keep the embers of our fire going.

Question from my friend and cuddlebuddy, Arzoo.

#PoeticAnswers 13: What’s Wrong?

Nothing.
Nothing really.
It’s just this tiny,
It’s just,
It’s nothing.

I promise,
It’s nothing.
You don’t need to worry,
Don’t look at me like that,
It’s nothing.

Something?
Maybe something.
It’s stupid really.
You can put your eyebrow down.
It’s nothing.

Have you ever
Felt like less than nothing?
Like your funeral’s being held early,
Like the weight of the earth is coming down on you and,
You’re dying?

Crushing,
Crushing in my head,
Crushing in my lungs and chest,
I’ve stopped gasping for air because nothing is there,
I’m choking.

Choking like
A candle in a glass cage,
It can’t shine or fight anymore,
It sputters and withers, turning to darkness and smoke
And nothing.

Nothing,
I wish I could be nothing,
Because nothing is worse that these feelings of nothingness,
Nothing comsumes, nothing excites, nothing is the only thing that is there,
I’m nothing.

It’s nothing,
Like I told you, it’s nothing,
And I wish there was something I could do,
But I’ve been drowning and sinking into this dark ocean, and, like its waves,
I’m breaking.

Nothing,
Nothing more, nothing less,
There’s a hole like a cavern carved in my chest,
That I’ve dug myself so I can find my heart and make it
Stop beating.

Talking,
I hate talking,
I don’t want to talk about what’s wrong because
It’s not your problem and I won’t be a burden so believe me when I say,
It’s nothing.

#PoeticAnswers 12: How Can You Love Vegemite?

I saw the sheets, Dave,
You left your crumbs in our bed
That was our bed,
We made love like an over making bread,
It was hot and rising,
And maybe a little yeasty at times,
But how could you taint it with another essence?

Is this why you got the second bank account?
To fund your filthy problem?
I can’t look at you,
I can see it on your lips,
I can smell it on your hreath,
Like a battery left to leak in the sun,
A blend of acid and ass

I can compromise,
You can buy the crunchy peanut butter
Even though I prefer the smooth.
Even though the bits get stuck
To you dentures and I can’t kiss you,
I’d rather have a thousand nuts in my mouth
Than let you kill me in this way.

Why is Fido licking the knife?
You took the dog too?
He was an innocent child,
He wasn’t a pawn for you to play with,
My sense of smell is not a pawn for you to play with,
Did you even think about me?
No, it was always about you,

It’s always take, take, and take with you,
You never think about me, Dave.
You took away my Nutella
But that wasn’t enough
Did you have to take away my Biscoff?
I am the only sweet thing in your life you can spread
But I’ll be damned if I let you do that again.

Is this over, Dave?
We used to be like bread and butter,
Now you’ve gone and found another.
How can you do this to me?
How can you bring this cancer into our bed?
How can you love Vegemite?
It’s over, Dave.

Question inspired by Amanda F. Palmer