Poetry

Remember That – 12/4/17

I’ve been thinking about the idea of not growing up. Not Peter Pan style, but on the inside, and not being embarrassed about being happy, especially in public. I think we can miss out on a lot that way, and end up not being ourselves a lot of the time. This is a poem about that. 

 

~

 

Remember promising that
Never
Never ever
Not under any circumstances
Never in a million years
Just catch us
We’ll never
Just never
Will we ever grow up?

 

We used to
Laugh
At the solemn faces
The grown up races
The rat race
The no fun
Can’t do that
Don’t be silly
Stop.
Remember that?

 

We’ll never be like that we said
I promise we said

 

Remember one day learning that you have to break that promise?

 

When the world in all its glory
Forces schooling
Tests exams and failing
As and Bs and Cs
Like that deadline looming will determine
Everything

 

We learn that isn’t true
But then most of what we learn in high school
Isn’t true

 

When we’re taught that
Algerbra will be useful
I think it’s just because
That’s what the teachers what to believe
They’re stuck in school eternally, so
They rock in corners after class
Whispering
Algerbra is useful 
Over and over and over again.
And we?
We just leave them there.

 

When we venture out or are we pushed out
Jobs and money
Taxes
I haven’t done my tax for two years and to be honest I’m not sure where to start 

 

Remember when you were given money for the first time?
Like a precious assignment
This money in exchange for milk
Make sure you get full cream
Says mum
And did you?
Probably. You did well. You were successful.
You made the deal.
You completed the assignment.
You learnt another adult skill.
You walked a little taller on the way home,
And didn’t stop to pat the dog.
You learnt how to iron and wash up
Then how to brush your teeth every night
Because dentist bills are so expensive you do it voluntarily.

 

Now you are grown up
Capable and an adult
You have a job
You earn money
You have a car and you can drive it anywhere you want
You drive it to get milk.
You know the right degree of warmth to put into your smile for the cash register girl so you are friendly but not weird
Never look her in the eyes and she will do the same for you.
You don’t look at people in the elevator,
Or in the isles, or next to the fridge
(You get low fat milk)
You don’t even fog up the fridge window with your breath to draw faces
You hold the milk by the handle
Then carry it in a plastic bag
While walking down the footpath
And your walk is confident and straight ahead
Even if you’re accidentally stepping on all the cracks.

 

Grown ups
Do not laugh
At silly things
Like water splashing on our toes
And, oh look at that butterfly, 
And come play on the swings 
Dancing in the supermarket
Grandma gives you silver coins
And you spend every last cent
On something to make you happy.

 

Aren’t you glad to be a grownup?
Aren’t you glad you know these things?
When did adult get to be a good thing?
You’re becoming a mature adult they say
And I’m all for maturity
Which means knowing how to comfort someone who is crying
Or how to solve a crisis
Or make good decisions about not jumping off bridges
And being able to make tea even when the power’s off
But adult? Adult goes beyond maturity in unspoken slang
Adult?
Adult?
You mean
No fun
Tax paying 
Money making 
Solemn faces 
Rat races 
Umbrella when it rains 
Indicating to change lanes
I’m going to be late 
Line up and wait
Don’t be silly 
That’s too frilly
Proper and uncharming 
Frivolity disarming 
Promise I won’t be one
Look what we’ve become 
Boring
Boring 
Boring 
GROWNUP! 

 

AND GUESS WHAT!?
YOU DON’T HAVE TO!!!!!!!!!!
Yes that’s right!
Selling here cheap;
A one way ticket to being 20 years old or older, no matter how old, and still being able to have FUN!

 

TOTAL COST? A FEW STRANGE LOOKS!
TOTAL BENEFITS? Having so much fun.

 

And that’s the secret
The one that’s never taught in school
All this stuff you learn how to do,
Just to survive?
None of it matters.
The important stuff,
The really important stuff?
That’s all the things everyone is too grownup for,
Doesn’t have enough time for,
Or are too old for.

 

For example:

 

A LIST OF A FEW IMPORTANT THINGS. 
Making daisy chains and wearing them all day
And dancing when your favourite song is on in the store
Laughing with your friends
And loving people so much that it hurts
Standing out in rainstorms
Taking deep breathes of your favourite scented air
And standing up for what is right
And never being embarrassed to stare
At all the beautiful things in sight.

 

And yes I know it’s bad out there
We’re waiting for the promises to come
We get tired, fed up, and irritable. Which is ok.
But the rest of the time
The rest of the time,
We see everything through the laughter that bubbles out of us
When the happiness inside of us,
Is more than we can physically contain
So I promise
I promise I will laugh
I promise I will never grow up
I promise to remember how to be happy.

 

Also,
For all the quiet smile moments
The cannot contain the laughter moments
The silent shaking laughter moments
The chuckles of remembering those moments
And the take my breath way with beauty moments
Or the listening moments,
When being solemn is ok.
Thank you.

 

-zu

 

Oh, and don’t forget to play on every playground you see.
Thanks if you read to the end of this rather long poem! What are some things that you like doing, even if they are generally seen as childish? (eg. Playing on swings, skipping the cracks on a footpath, playing with your food, singing in public) 😊
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Poetry, Uncategorized

Laughter Rides a Bicycle – 10/11/16

Laugher rides a yellow bicycle through,
Rain-drenched pavements reflecting blue,
Catching each raindrop like a benediction,
And swinging on sunbeams in delightful contradiction

-zu

A little poem I brushed up a bit, from my stash of hidden poems 😉 I enjoy personifying qualities, what do you think laughter would look like?

One Poem Every Day, Poetic Prose, Poetry

The Planet Glok. Unnumbered.

I found this in a box of scraps of paper that I keep, it was printed out, I believe I wrote it in primary, I’m not sure. Also not sure if it was just a random thought stream or a concrete idea, but I thought it’s pretty cool. Somewhat ridiculous. It’s all the same. 😉

If I had a world of my own, there would be no unicorns. The sun would be smaller than a wonderful star and everyone would fly on the backs of swallows. The caretakers name would be Gary and he would walk slowly through the dark blue Street singing Scottish songs, and the whole world would be Irish. The corner store would sell lollipops in a rainbow whirl and the children would stare longingly as their nurses shepherd them along on the other side of the street. the nurses would b dressed in bright pink,  the children would be dressed in marbled grey and purple with grey ties and socks, and green shoes. Gary would be dressed in overalls and cary ad broom and a bucket of sops.

Everyday new flowers will bloom, and no flower will ever die until the caretaker pulls them out. Gary is fond of the flowers and only pulls out the rude ones when he has to, so the flowers are everywhere, over banisters and awnings and sidewalls and roofs and some just cascade out of thin air. if you stand still for long enough, flowers grow in your hair, and twine themselves lovingly around your neck.

In the sweet sunrise, amethysts fall from the sky, so we would wear cotton wool on their heads to catch the precious jewels. Then at night we heat them up with red fire and cook the fish that we have caught on them and then, as we lay around the fire, we devour the soft, tender, juicy fish. The next morning the amethysts will be a pale chalky pink and we pick them up and lay them under the nest of the green dawn bird. She feeds on them and when she lays her eggs they are made of transparent pink purple crystal.

During the day the men wander down through the streets to the fresh sparkling sea with their nets dragging behind them. They go to catch the fish for the night time meal. when they have caught three fat ones each, they drag the nets back o the shoe and loll on the warm rocks till the whale of the sunset rises in the deep.

The women also flock down to the sea, with their garments of purple ad red and green and blue to cleanse them in the sand. The children have all escaped from their nursemaids, and have thrown off their ties. They are a raggletaggle bunch, flowers in their hair and lollipops in their hands, but none of them have ever looked happier. Gary is keeping watch, and keeping the glassy sand clear.

Then all, except Gary, will swim in the sea, till the last fish is caught, singing the exultant hunting song triumphant with bold red flags.

-zu

Yes, it’s not perfect, I feel the need to completely rework it, but I’ve left it mostly how it was when I first wrote it. The tense does switch dramatically , but who cares? Do you? I don’t! Not today anyway, mostly because it’s raining! 😂😁

Poetic Prose, Prose, What A Fish Thinks

My other blog, What A Fish Thinks 😉

So here’s something! I also write a blog in conjunction with the Age of Fishes Museum called What A Fish Thinks.  I’m writing as a fish called Augustus who is pompous, opionated, and very outspoken, but secretly lovely under all that 😉 He can even get a little poetical sometimes, like me 😂 It’s lots of fun to write and I’m sure you’d enjoy reading it 😁 So go check it out!

I have lived in The River for my whole life. I have swum against current and with it. I have sheltered beneath tree roots as water from the sky has pelted the surface water of the river churning i…

Source: What a River is.

One Poem Every Day, Poetry

No. 192 “Goodbye Jack” (trip to Mars; a narrative poem) -26/6/16

Excuse me? Yes hello. One ticket to Mars please?
Where the air is black and the clouds do not tease,
Beckoning lightening into the trees.

First or second class? Well I’ll take The Shooting Star,
And, first class, why not? I’ve never travelled this far,
Beyond the black purple planet, oh how bizarre!

Yes I know sir, that people do this every day,
But they’re not me, I’ve never been, so how can you say,
That is is an everyday experience, pray?

Of course I’ve been around the moon, but could it be the same?
As different as white and red! Uhhuh, I see, just a different name.
Well I must say, that’s a shame.

Still, I have to tell you, I’m dizzy as a kid with new space-boots,
I shan’t repress a squeal as The Star takes off and toots!
What? No toots? Well then, as off it shoots!

Glinting gold and being swallowed in the flat black screen of sky,
Into a dark future where it feels like a star could never die,
And I don’t care what you say! I will look out the window and sigh.

I’m off to the skies, goodbye! What? Oh yes sir, I’m sure I will,
You too! Oh, you won’t? You’ll always be here still?
But do you never want to star trek? Do you never yearn for a thrill?

You mean to say you’ve never flown?! Not even around the sun?
I mean to say, well really. Are you sure you don’t want to come?
You could take the short trip, a quick and easy run.

You would have your breath snatched by the sights,
You be dizzy and long for more flights,
You’d tumble and crumble and soar to the hights!

Are you sure? You really don’t want to? I guess I’ll see you when I get back.
Second door to the right? And yes, I’ve got my pack.
Nice to meet you, what’s your name? Well, goodbye Jack.

-zu

Over the last few days I’ve been having fun with narrative poems, they are fast paced and fun, but I do find them a bit exhausting. However they are fulfilling as well in a strange way! 😊 (Also, the date today has a lot of sixes in it which is pretty cool! 😄)