Being A Man: A List

Here follows a list of what I feel it is to be a man.

• A man must break a heart, to truly understand the fragility of the lives he involves himself in
• A man must have his heart broken, to truly understand his own fragility
• At least once in his life, a man must fully immerse himself in a sacrificial love
• A man must have a war against an opposite for without this it is impossible to assert who he is
• A man provides
• A man recognises who is really in charge
• A man knows when to be a man and when to be human
• A man must find a love he is willing to die with or for

Thumos

GET DOWN FROM THERE, YOU'LL FALL"
they screamed at me as I climbed
higher and higher, from up here, the world looks so small
ant people scurrying about, their problems don't matter at all
Even if the revolution happens and it isn't televised,
I wouldn't care because I've got my eyes on the prize:
freedom.

"MAN WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE SUCH HEIGHTS"
they cried, but step by step I ascended despite
my fear of constantly moving up, try as they might
those people who scream
NO
can't stop me from taking flight tonight.

Then, there was silence. The kind filled with anticipation and dread
as my foot caught on the top rung of the rope ladder of success
I had almost broke through, I could see the stars shine,
but all the sympathetic cosmonauts offered no hand, nor took mine.
Down I fell and hit every obstacle I had overcome
and the indentation in the ground when I landed
means I start again even lower than where I set off from.

This depth may only be inches, but it may as well be miles,
face down in the mud I can only be concerned with my own trials
and those tiny ant people now tower above me,
as I blunder between their busy legs
"Sorry, I do not wish to bother thee"
I yell in my little, insignificant voice.
Exhausted from a whole day of this, sleep brings no rejoice.

What a fool I was to think that I could climb,
to see things only meant for the eyes of the divine
to be that one in a million who tastes the fruits of their own success.
"Sit down and shut up, you were meant for much less"
Why didn't I listen to the voices which screamed no.
Maybe then I wouldn't have fallen.
Maybe I wouldn't feel so low.

After some time spent gathering my strength
and remembering when happiness was only at arms length
my burlap sack packed with my dreams and Lucozade,
I set out to climb that rope ladder without any aid.
Even though I know I'll probably just fall again
and that the voices which scream are the voices of the safe but mundane
I'm well practised by now so without a fuss
I slowly start to climb again; a modern day Sisyphus.

Absurd Rhymes With Albatross

Of course, it doesn't. But it does rhyme with turd.

As the most curious species
and with brain power to boot
we try to swallow the whole sun
and think the face in the moon is cute.

We pretend that time's a circle
and that we can live this moment again,
we call ourselves unique, like snowflakes
then score beauty out of ten.

We praise multiple gods, and one, or none.
All three are but primitive tools
to deal with the hypocrisy of life. Example?
We teach science in Roman Catholic schools.

We take their valves to work our hearts
but "all pigs do is stink".
Being human is such an absurdity,
all the more because we can think.

Waltz

Dancing in threes, living life
step one two.

We share a heartbeat, me and you.

Sychronised steps, arm in arm
turn two three.

No thought to thinking, feeling free.

Past mistakes made we laugh off
as we spin.

Lips touch and we dance, skin to skin

Facebook Friends

The people on my Facebook are my friends,

'cept,

they're not.

They are friends of my friends

and

people I knew before;

they are people at work

but

cease to be when I leave.

You are my Facebook friends

'cause

un-friend is just so rude.

Are the people on my Facebook my friends

or

my "friends"?

A poem about people I hate

This poem's title is literal. This is just a spoken word poem about people I hate. Or more specifically, something I hate about people. Below this, you can listen to the recording hosted on SoundCloud and below that, you can read the words. There's no layout, it looks like this because it's written to be heard and not read, but this is my blog and I want to post the words. Whatever.



All my life I've been called a nerd, a loser, a geek.
Just because I love to learn.
I want to know why our calendar has seven days in the week
and why we are averse to telling people how much we earn.
Thank god or zeus or even the big bang for wikipedia
because without it I'd never be able to bore workmates
with facts and interesting titbits about who really controls the world's media
(it's not a conspiracy by the way, Noam Chomsky told me and his name holds weight in debates)
It's just fate that the curse placed upon my tiny little head is now plastered across all these fucking tshirts on little girl's chests. Slogans designed to impress because being a geek is somehow cool now?
Like I didn't get my head shoved in a fucking bin and my childhood is just one big fat cash cow?
It's like I wasn't so scared of ridicule for joining the debate club I ran away and ate lunch on the pavement on my own? Wow. I've barely told anyone about that.

Where was I? Oh yeah, tell me about your adventures in the Warhammer universe fellow geek. Tell me about the time you spend reading short stories by only Phillip K Dick and Bradbury for a whole week.
How disappointed were you that the overarching story in Asimov's I, Robot was completely missed out in the Will Smith adaptation?
Who pushed you down stairs in school because you thought superheros were cool? Were you the last in your group of friends to pull? Yes, teenagers can be cruel but I'm still being ridiculed by the exact same people who paid to see The Avengers four times because Chris Hemsworth and Robert Downey Junior make them drool.

Dungeons and Dragons is nothing like playing with a Barbie doll and you sound like a fool for making that comparison, but I try to take it on the chin. Because I never expect anyone to understand why I run Linux instead of Windows on my netbook, or why I continually fix my eight year old iPod instead of buying a new one.

And I'd never understand why you would mute the news or think it's boring to see a meteor caught on camera crashing down to Earth with an impact like a giant cosmic gun. That's the reason I'll never buy a tshirt that states in VERY LARGE FONT, that everyone can read that I'm a domesticated dog, on a very short lead.

Peter Pan

I like the rhythmic quality of this. I've been writing things in threes recently and I don't know why. As you can see, this is structured so that every line contains three syllables. I may have the punctuation wrong which would lead some to read this in a way I didn't intend but honestly, I think the commas and full stops, as well as the line breaks let it flow without the reader having to think of composition too much.

Everything

that I think,

I create.

Everything

that I think,

I create,

I control.

Everything

that I think,

I create,

I control,

I destroy.

Not Captain

Hook, I'm the

first Lost Boy.