What do you know
About tainted love
My yoot, my son
My product of stuff
You came to me
One day near spring
Tokens and condiments
To Vickie I bring
The child of a man
Lacking in most things
Son of a woman
With endless understanding
My curse to you
Is my mental affliction
We’re so alike
I had a chance
So do you
If you live till an age
Where the bullets don’t bruise
I owe you my life
As you owe Paul
The man I’m not,
Standing above all
The night is long
Like this cold winter
So hear his words
As dad’s are splintered
I love you boy
But I’m not your dad
Son of a proper man
I’ll love you when you’re here,
Not wait till you’re gone
Always take the time,
If I’m going on……
I worry and I cry,
I self medicate.
My own worst enemy,
but you’re still a mate.
We try so hard,
to fight our own corner,
Can’t see which of us is,
the one out of order.
But I won’t wait,
neither should you….
Til’ tears are shed
and our lips blue.
I’ll love you now
through quarrel or banter…..
Punctuality in friendship
is the answer.
The chuckles and snorts, the quick retorts
Bad jokes, dad jokes, you know the sort.
One liners, quips and useless knowledge,
Until last light since morning porridge.
If ever a smile did fade away,
Reducing the brightness from my days.
This time we toast not with but for,
Our joker and friend and so much more.
Of all the things I do best I can listen. I have trouble keeping a quiet mind whilst doing it but I am focused as much as possible whilst the persons words trigger an incalculable number of tangents for my mind to chase down.
I make sure I ask all the obvious questions as a baseline before adding my thoughts and opinions. You’d be surprised how much people ignore the basics in a conversation.
“How are you?”
“Are you in danger?”
“Have you thought about speaking to a professional?”
I am happy to talk to almost anybody. I like people sharing with me, albeit unfairly. I am not the biggest sharer of my own personal life. What will I speak about? Debt. Estranged children. Mental health. Being lonely even though you’re surrounded by people. Maybe my passions should be my conversational lead. My love of writing. Liverpool Football Club. Cars. My love of making people laugh.
I am horrendously clumsy. I have accidents no mortal man should have let alone speak of. I get myself into situations where just speaking up for myself would have extinguished the whole rigmarole would not have played out.
I was made a lifeguard at a local sports centre whilst on placement for work experience aged 16. That sounds like a decent role for a kid looking to make his way into a career in leisure and tourism you may think. It was the fifth day of my placement and I was keen to do anything asked of me. Only problem was I couldn’t swim and didn’t know how to say so as I was being led to the pool. Two and a half days it took me to own up. I was breaking inside thinking I would lose my placement if I owned up. Not once did I think “what if someone actually starts drowning?”.
Nobody did thankfully and I was placed elsewhere in the complex for the rest of my placement.
When a friend loses a father, I’m lost inside.
How does a young lion, now lead the Pride.
I stay in denial, or wish it away.
Pleading for, my patriarch to stay.
Their strength trump’s mine, as I start to blub.
Their tragedy is mine. As if I was his cub.
My friends I salute you, for carrying on.
Especially after your father’s gone.
I’ll call on thee, to help me through.
My Spartans, my warriors, my love all to you.
Love is the abandonment of logic and the belief in ones ability to shepherd two souls through lifes seasons
It’s like ignoring the calculator to use your fingers….
….choosing to pour freehand when a jug is available…..
…..it’s a reason to live when you’re bombarded by absolutes and certainty.
Love has no unit of measure. No number to equate to. No logic to adhere to.
I neither played or shared with my heart, a child lonely from the start.
Chances a plenty to grow, succeed. Times a wasted. Sands that bleed.
Learn to give and to receive. I know neither, so don’t push me, please.
The ghost of a child living as man, the man erroding without a plan.