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The latest dream

Tries to write over the earlier dream

I work hard to hold on to both recollections

Now I am walking home in the sunshine

I am beside the campus college library

I can hear Mneme on her mobile phone

Her joyous, infectious voice bubbles over with enthusiasm

Then I hear her say that she has seen me

She tells whoever it was she was talking to that she has to go

In the earlier dream I had been in and part caused a car accident

Involving three drivers

I could not remember my home address or other insurance details

I took the two other drivers back to Mneme's house

I was upstairs

They stood together talking at the bottom of the stairs

In a strong voice I told them not to talk until I was with them 

Mneme gave me her address book

Open at a page where all my details dropped out

My information fell and disappeared

I could not find anything whatsover about me

I began to panic

Elbowed Out - Love of Listening to Michelangelo

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

What I Do, What I Don’t

I don't touch real stuff in my work life anymore

I read specifications & tender enquiries

I draw lines on paper

I work out the numbers to put in boxes

I tick off what’s done, what’s not

I write words that relieve responsibilities

I don’t touch work stuff in my real life anymore

I read books, pamphlets, papers & magazines

I draw with coloured pens, abstracts mostly

I work out numbers, to pay off debts

I tick off what’s done, what’s not

I write words that relive responsibilities

The balance sways, what I do, day by day

from 

Elbowed Out - Love of Listening to Michelangelo

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Telephone Conversation

You didn't expect to feel so low

Why would you

Wasn't there laughter and lightness in her voice

Go back if you will

Analyse those thirty-one minutes

Line by line, as if a detective or forensic scientist

Better still

Write a diary note, from the distance of time

from 

Elbowed Out - Love of Listening to Michelangelo

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Time On Ones Own

That there might be something in the effect of time spent alone, time spent on ones own; either by choice, or as a necessity, due to a particular way of life

When do we first notice that we are on our own

I moved to the small town of Holmfirth when I was thirteen, I left behind my friends in the tiny village of Birdsedge, some six miles away, but not until I had spent many weeks cycling to and fro.

One day I was sat in Victoria Park, Holmfirth watching some boys play football. I thought if I watched them often enough they might ask me to join them. After several days as a spectator I did join in, they became my friends, I was soon a member of their gang. 

This ice breaker led to many more friendships, more friendships than I am now able to recollect; it was a significant step, and it was a step I was conscious had to be taken. 

It was a time when I knew I was on my own.

When do we move from being uncomfortable on our own to being happy or content to be on our own.

That time sat watching the boys playing football, waiting to be asked to join in, it was not comfortable. It was probably also a discomfort to those boys, to see me sat there, sat alone, day after day. 

Yet some days not everyone would join in at football, sometimes people would go off fishing or cycling, go off doing solitary activities.

I would stay with what was left of the group. I had had enough of my time alone.

from 

Elbowed Out - Love of Listening to Michelangelo

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Daylight Lamps

I am where I am

Do not let me become disheartened                

Let me write

Let me paint

Let me love

Let me work

Let me be outgoing and creative, let me be

There is a brightness, the same brightness

Of the streetlight when, as a thirteen year old boy

I was torn from my playgrounds

I was unconditionally stripped of my boyhood friendships

I am where I am

Do not let me become unduly despondent

Let me play

Let me dance

Let me drink

Let me find romance

Let me take the steps to find the rare and fairly be

There are sounds, the same sounds as from

The youth club juke box

Then I was a clumsy but enthusiastic teenager

I never quite made it with the girls 

& I never quite made the regular first eleven

I am where I am

Do not let the weight become a burden

Let me procreate

Let me fornicate

Let me hesitate

Let me stay up late

Let me weigh up how to strive to be

There are duties, responsibilities; the same

Organisational representations that I fought

For and against, as suited my fast emerging

Slick suited, neatly booted, superficial persona

I am where I am

Do not let me dine on introspection

Let me read

Let me breathe

Let me be boisterous with pretension

Let me seek

Let me reek in the abstinence of joy

There are doubts, there are blood rushes of emotion

Passions that charged at me as sure as did 

Van der Graff's electrostatic, silver balled generator

There was just a chance that I could make her

I am where I am

Do not let me prize on those past reflections

Let me ache

Let me recreate

Let me take away all leave of my senses

Let me so relate

Let the mistakes be raked over or burnt intestate 

There are voids, gaps in hopes and understandings

There is no we, as a we anymore

There is silence and there is darkness

The uneven load is a load too much to bear

There is no choice & no forgiveness.

I am where I am

Do not let me be only pre-existent

Let me study

Let me talk

Let me roam

Let me grieve

Let me browse

Let me leave

Let me go off to find and make new friendships

Let me love to be the man who loves again

There is care, tenderness, love, vulnerability, colour, energy, intellect

There is a warmth of welcome, a desire to please

The usual problems

We each have baggage from the past

Stuff that requires deft negotiation.

I am where I am

Do not let me conjure up conundrums

Let me be simple

Let me be plain

Let me be outrageous

Let me be as it is to be

Let me be thankful for the days ahead

Let me share more than I ever cared to before

from 

Elbowed Out - Love of Listening to Michelangelo

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links