Everyone needs at least one true friend who can always speak the truth to them, good or bad. Who can tell them they’re making a mistake, either by doing something they shouldn’t or not doing something they really should. Of course it is entirely up to us whether we actually listen to our true friends! The “them” in this poem are definitely not friends!
They told me once to try again, I asked Them why I should
I liked what I had done this time, They said it was not good
I asked Them what was wrong with it I loved it done my way
But this was met with tutting and yet They wouldn’t say
So I refused to try again, proud of my first attempt
It came from a true, honest place - I questioned Their intent
But They would not accept my choice, They would not let it lie
They wailed and cried and pestered me to have another try.
Yet I feared if I gave in, that if I let Them win
A lifetime of enslavement and servitude would begin
For once they had the best of me would They then let it go?
Or tighten hence their grip on me? I really didn’t know
But something told me to beware, to not let Them dictate
Even the least of my designs I should myself create.
So I stood firm, dug in my heels, They turned away from me
No more acknowledging my work, pretending not to see.
And I, no more so self assured began to wonder now
Was the beauty in mine eye real or feigned somehow
As I began to doubt myself a true friend came along
And questioned why my tongue was stilled, he no more heard my song.
I am no good I told him, my confidence curtailed.
But he would speak the truth to me - my ego did avail
And so I paid Them no more heed, I ceased to play along
I showed the world what I had done, once more sang my own song
Now free once more to be myself, to plan and to create
I rose above Their tired attacks their nebulous dictates
And stronger now I found the wings I’d never known before
And from that true friends confidence up to the stars I soar
Show me again the tree beneath whose boughs we one time laid
While dappled sunshine warmed our skin and daring plans were made
Sit with me once again beneath the knarled and ancient limbs
And reminisce those sunny hours until the daylight dims
Show me again the river wide upon whose banks we lay
While summers breeze blew over us and we whiled the day away
Lie with me once again among the luscious burn side grass
And hand in mine gaze heavenward to watch the white clouds pass
Show me again the tenderness which caught for you my heart
The gentle touch and whispered words your true love did impart
Hold me once more in loving arms, my head against your chest
And marvel with me at how our life most truly has been blest.
I generally don’t like keeping secrets. Thankfully most of the secrets I keep revolve around birthday presents, surprise parties and the like, so are short lived. They are also the good kind of secret, the kind that you want to tell because you know the reaction will be positive.
But sometimes the knowledge we keep hidden is heavy to bear and we want to lighten the load by sharing it. Much has been written about how keeping secrets can be bad for our health. Occasionally however, the secrets that we keep are not ours to share.
I wish you had not told me that
I did not want to know
But now that I possess the truth
I cannot let it go
My heart cried out ‘this cannot be,
It can’t, it must be lies
But from your face I knew at once –
I read it in your eyes
That scene now stuck in my mind’s eye
never to be erased,
Delivered to me such a shock
It left me feeling dazed
The Nightmare that now plagues my sleep
And interrupts my rest
Have been my night-time company
Since to me you confessed
And all the while the shame of it
That should be yours not mine
Now Haunts my every waking hour
As if by your design
You have made me your companion
In knowledge of this deed
And I can never now forget
I never will be freed
I would I could just run away
The dread of it to flee
But no matter where I go
The truth will follow me.
For all around is tainted now
My illusions undone
The world is a less pleasant place
Your cloud obscures my sun.
I would you had not shared with me
The burden that you bore
For now I find this secret binds
Us two, for evermore
I am a dreamer. I dream often and regularly remember bits, if not all, of the fantastical tales and crazy adventures I have during slumber. The weird and wonderful worlds I inhabit whilst sleeping can be a rich source of inspiration for my writing whilst awake, and I keep a note book beside my bed to jot down anything I want to hold on to. Sometimes when I look back at them my night-time scribblings make no sense at all, but once in a while when I check my notebook I am amazed at the insight or poeticism I find there.
A few days ago I had an unusual dream, even for me. Instead of being in the dream, playing ny part, I was an observer. And as the scene played out before me it wasn’t live action it was a black and white cartoon, all rough drawn and jiggling. I can only remember a very small part of it but it was such a striking visual images that it inspired a poem.
I can see myself in the corner
In a small stark patch of light
All couched and folded inwards
In a world of black and white
The darkness that surrounds me
Is slowly pressing in
The fear of it constricts my chest
I feel it chill my skin
But flickering, and glorious
A white light comes to shine
And rages ‘gainst the darkness
In this corner small of mine
So sensing something easing
I dare to lift my head
And see the light expanding
And catch a glimpse of red
I can see me in the corner
In a growing patch of light
All couched, but less uncertain
In a world of colours bright.