I called this song 'Coattails' but it's not really a suitable title. I think.

I got a critique from my father about my new song suggesting if I had put these words here, and not made this part be so long before this part came in then it would be easier to listen to and it would be what you expected. He went on to state that my music is highbrow, or deep. The song he was listening to was pretty damn straightforward, I just had no intention of creating a typical chorus with it, and only having the chorus hook in it once. Maybe that's just a bad habit I picked up from Led Zeppelin, in that they're focus was to make the verses the hook, so naturally that has bled over into everything that I've written.
So be it.


 

Chameleon

I said "I don't fit in here" and mentioned that I can't wait to leave. You looked at me with those gloriously dull ember-burnt eyes and told me that you're like one of those lizards "an Iguana, no - a chameleon" and that you fit in wherever you go. But what I didn't tell you, is that I don't fit in anywhere: everywhere I go, I feel like I stand apart, separated and unbelonging.
        You told me you'd miss your friends. I smiled. I knew that I would miss no one, but I would always remember you and wonder what could have been if things, life, or the world, could have been different; if I hadn't kept my distance in an attempt at protecting myself, if you had been brave enough to throw down the gauntlet and issue the challenge.
        If only. If only your hair wasn't a frame that belies the loneliness behind those autumnal eyes, I would not be struck with a gaze struggling to look away. And I would surely be a stronger man without cursed fear determining the length of every stare.
        But if only is a story, and our lives will part ways - a sunset on the horizon, a twinkling night overhead.
        I may forget others but I'll remember you. Remember me too.

Professional Development: "What's happening outside?"

Drizzleness flaking a wakeful moment
Tendering the grasp of possibility,
Patches wet the ground as fluttering wings
Glide on by.

Brightlyness showers a cloudy moment
Clambering at glass in visualisation,
Splatters set the sound as muttering winds
Slide on by.

- 14/08/12, Hamilton (Airport Conference Centre)

My story is just like everyone else's:

My story is just like everyone else's

I too fell in love.
I too killed myself just to feel
         something other than this emotion.
I too sought destruction just to feel
         something less vapid and bound
         by confusion.
I too crawled the depths of despair with
         salty and arrogant tears,
         knowing full well my own
         insolence brought me here.
I too walked a maudlin mile,
         questioning and answering, remembering
         and reasoning, dilapidated
         and sauntering and
         squandering the path of acceptance.
I too lost the thread, unravelled
         the ball, let it roll
         uncontrolled down the hill
         without thought.
I too traded good sense just to taste
         something virile and draped
         in smugness.
I too fooled myself just to taste
         something other than quiet devotion.
I too fell in love.

My story is just like yours

Maybe I miss her.

New Poem

I was wandering through a lonely black tunnel

The sound of 'To Live is to Die' ringing in my ears

My thoughts loud whispers trying to be heard.

And yet the distance was bleak, a shadow in the past,

The future's glimmering ghost waving from afar.

Is this, the present, what I worked so hard for?

A labour without recognition,

A depth of expression passed off as folly,

A momentary lapse of consideration

for the artist in the moment

- any moment -

Making do with the muse that presents a pose,

Lightweight though she may be,

Better than none at all.

    This moment captured,

    These words raptured,

    Hangman prose stature.

But as the tunnel grows longer

I notice the darkness itself glimmers,

A call to respond: this song is over.

To live is to create, to die is to be done;

If nobody hears, so the song shall be sung.

Silence be my laughter

An age of pain remembered,

Words still form from this crafter.

- 19/05/12

Rain Poem

Blue Sky you try
To fool me with a cloudless bright,
But past days are remembered
And raincoats will not be surrendered,
Not for you, not for the hope of sunshine
On a day-long tender.
My awareness shall be the defender
And bringer of warmth when the pretender
Clouds over and drops the temperature,
Chilling the arms and legs of innocent bystanders
(Merry their shrieks of concern).
Fingers trace the dial o' heater
Bringing the warm rush of relief - and release!
And the betrayer left to weather the outside like a teaser
- blue sky here, grey sky there -
While inside, the timber walls fill with laughter.

- 17/05/2012