Not Alone

Are you tired, all you introverts?

Are you worn out and spent?

Are you constantly hounded?

Wondering where your alone-time went?

Are you sat there at the party,

Asking when's okay to leave?

Polite smiles on the outside,

While inside you want to plead,

'Please, please, please, please

Please can I go home?'

Introverts I want you to know,

That you are not alone,

And that's the problem.

Introverts, we feel you,

Introverts, don't moan,

We'll all gather 'round  you,

And hug away the alone,

I want you to know, 

That you're never on your own,

Introverts, we love you,

There's no need to groan,

Introverts we're here for you,

 Introverts, you're not alone,

And that might just be the problem.

BFF

Thank you, thank you,

Thanks Bunkfest,

For knowing that this

Was the right time to invest,

In words and people,

And all the poets were blessed

You know, Bunkfest fringe,

You're my new BFF,

At the start I wanna say thanks

Get it off of my chest

Bunkfest Fringe

You're my new BFF!

On Prayer

Kyung-Ho was a prayer warrior,

His lips made more sound than the words that came out of them,

I strained to hear, the broken English,

I could hear his tongue moving more than the breath that came over it,

A whispered supplication to the Father Almighty,

I strained to hear but the words were not for me.

This prayer was not performance, nor posturing, 

The audible weight of the words so light,

They barely grazed the air they passed through,

So gentle, if it were a wind, it would not move the pappus from a dandelion,

A blade of grass would remain unstirred.

I thought of him, as one of those hibernating creatures,

Who could slow their heartrate to untraceable pulses,

On the edge of life, itself,

Teetering almost into death.

Don't die, I thought,

Don't die.

I did not recognise the strength,

I did not perceive the passion,

For that I needed volume,

Or tears.

Some indication of power and force.

But Kyung-Ho was a warrior,

One evening, when our community gathered,

For a teaching session on prayer,

And the family of nations presented themselves there,

The teacher asked for intercession,

Prayers for the lost.

A man of experience, 

He asked the Koreans to pray in their own language, for once.


I stood under the waterfall of noise that night,

The words that poured out of  those two men,

Washed over us,

Washed over our senses in wonderous, thunderous waves,

They woke us up,

We were swept along, senseless and uncomprehending, with the force of them,

My heart stirred from it's depths,

Tears cascaded down my cheeks.

The passion was undeniable,



And Kyung-Ho was seen at last,

Revealed like the son he was,

That he'd always been,

But by me, unseen,

And reflecting on it, years later,

I concluded that this perception of mine was the real change,

Not his volume, not his passion,


Spiritually speaking,

In whispered English,

Or cacophonous Korean,

They had never changed,

Kyung-Ho was a prayer warrior,

And his soul was a mountain.

Elopement

Can an ant elope

With an antelope? 

Because it can't elope 

With a cantaloupe.

18 Years

18 Years

Today my grief becomes an adult

It takes responsibility for itself

It is self aware

It understands to a greater degree its' impact on others

It is less pained than in it's infancy or adolescence

These days there is less screaming

But the loss has formed me,

Like a missing limb affects your gait 

I am who I am because of you

And because you are not

For the longest time 

Memory was pain

And grief halted everything

But these days

Grief is fruitful

And my memory is sweet

With a sharpness

That brings focus.

I will not waste 

This taste

This aftertaste

Of You

Cup of Contradiction

They might mistake me,

For a football thug,

But I'm drinking herbal tea,

From this Hotspur mug,

They might mistake me,

for a girly boy,

But I'm using vipers blood,

To stir fry Pak Choi,

They might mistake me,

For a hardened biker,

But my beard is trimmed  and groomed,

Like Captain Riker,

I'm looking angry,

But I need a hug,

I'm drinking herbal tea,

From my Hotspur mug,

I'm wearing pink bow ribbons,

In my fat dreadlocks,

I'm wearing steel toe caps,

With my bobby socks,

I'm wearing a muscle vest 

Declaring anarchy,

But my favourite thing,

Is a herbal tea,

I'm dangerous, I tell you,

I'm a bit crazy, me.

I sometimes cheat,

At monopoly,

I'm cutting lose, 

And I don't know what for,

But I would never, EVER,

Break the law.

I'm looking angry,

But I want a hug,

I'm drinking herbal tea,

From my Tottenham mug,

You better watch out,

Cos I'm on drugs,

I'm drinking cold Lemsip,

From my Hotspur mug

I'm unpredictable,

I'm anomaly,

First name: Tyson

Middle name: Emily

I'm an enigma, a delight,

Yeah and an anathema,

I start every day,

With an Elderflower enema,

I'm looking vulnerable

But I don't need a hug,

I'm drinking Jack Daniels

From a Tommy Tippee cup,

Just kidding,

I don't care, I'll stand and shrug.

I'm drinking herbal tea,

From my hotspur mug.

Brief

You mope around, you mope around,

You wallow in your sin and sorrow,

But wallowing in remorse, of course,

Will only ever rob you of tomorrow,

I'll keep it brief, I'll keep it brief,

I'll type it in a single sentence,

It's my belief, that Godly grief,

Leads productively to repentance.