Journal of sinistra 21 (16758)
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sinistra 21 (16758)
sinistra 21
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Saturday May 12, 07
11:18 AM - Come in, come in, whoever you are
[ 0 Comments ]
I came home yesterday and found someone new sitting at the kitchen table. Not unusual, we always have guests. People returning from work wandered in and greeted the guest, asked where N was from, and who they knew here.

Actually what had happened was N had knocked at the door with a brochure for a charity, got chatting, got invited for a cup of tea, got invited to stay for dinner and before you knew it, three hours later....."how long are you staying here?"

N didn't stay, but went home with a full stomach and an invitation to visit again! Sometimes I think there isn't a better place to live..

Saturday April 21, 07
01:26 PM - mystery of misery
[ 1 Comment ]
If this is the answer
I don't want to know

To give up the pleasure
Of being morose

Without any measure
Of highs, there's no lows

Oh God, please don't help me
I treasure my woes...
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Instead of forcing cheerfulness I was trying to embrace my misery, but even then found myself taking the piss out of it. Gave me a laugh, but avoided facing the pain, once again....

Sunday April 08, 07
07:45 AM - The Novice Recants
[ 1 Comment ]
This one doesn't work though. Part of it , but not the whole. The tone...too light for the subject...I'm not sure...comments please..

The novice recants

I'd rather hear, "you're gorgeous dear,
Come meet me, I'll be waiting"
Than sit inside and theorise
On transubstantiation.

I want to be among the free
Where love is all that's taken
When "kiss my ass" is not a laugh
But said as invitation.

Don't fill my head with Saints long dead
Or frighten me with Satan
I'm off to find a man alive
And kneel in adoration.
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Thanks to those who have left positive comments to previous entries, much appreciated.
Sunday April 01, 07
11:45 AM - Words alone
[ 2 Comments ]
Words Alone

I went to the park and sat under a tree. Absently running my hands through the grass I felt a simple pleasure in the rough yielding texture, the spiky pliability…and I tried to find words to describe it.
But as I did so the pleasure evaporated, the moment became memory. Described but no longer enjoyed in a thoughtless present.
In all our seeking for pleasurable experiences are we attempting to re-connect to that state of being, from which language and the need to communicate our lives takes us?

And can we ever be truly ourselves when we are not alone?

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Compassion would allow me to forgive you and wish you well-
But I don’t want to let go
I need to hold you
So I hate you
As long as I need you
For as long as I can remember why.

If I’d rejected you first
You’d be loving me now.
.
.

He needed to be cruel to make the guilt of betrayal worthwhile the suffering.
So I let him go…
The only revenge I could take.
Saturday March 17, 07
06:36 AM - One Day...
[ 7 Comments ]
One day I'll learn
one day I'll know
one day I'll be too old to care
one day things could be different
I have to take it one day at a time
and believe...

Here's a ditty I rushed earlier
First draft,(revised) so forgive the flaws.
An affectionate take on certain dreamers I know

One day…

Harry wants to be a rock star
Fancy car, designer suits
Singing songs composed on weekdays
In his lunch-break hour at Boots.

All the time he's thinking of it
All his life he’s dreamed of fame
Cannot stand the latest boy-bands
'Cause their songs just sound the same.

Every weekend he’s out gigging
Band rehearsals twice a week
Flyers, posters, My-space pages
Come along, the beer is cheap!

Harry knows it still could happen
Never will give up the dream
Keeps on playing, singing, writing
Even though he’s fifty-three.

Sunday January 28, 07
06:50 AM - Keys and seeds
[ 2 Comments ]
For light relief I did this one;

"I've lost my keys"

I've lost my keys
Oh no, such grief
It's bloody cold
Out on the street

Precious comforts
Locked up tight
How will I get
Inside tonight?

I always mocked
The homeless poor
Yet here I stand
Outside the door

I cannot cope
It's such a shock
I'll grab an axe
And smash the locks!

Mr Policeman
Help me please
No, not the 'cuffs
I live here, see...

You stupid Plod
Now let me go
I'm telling you
This is my home

You won't believe
My dreadful plight
Locked in the cells
On Friday night!

after the heaviness of this one;

Bitter Seed

His synthetic praises
Were cheap luckless charms
Insincere tokens
Easily spoken
But I know
We all know
I walked home alone

The gentlest of hands
Now rests on my arm
But wormwood reminders
Poison the kindness
And I know
As you know
I'll walk home alone.

Thanks for your positive comments on the "Fireworks" piece, Redpathetic. I showed it to a few people but no-one got the Cromwellian misquotation or the mischievous references to lyrics/quotes from Morrissey. I suppose I was being too subtle, too limited to a particular audience or just not good enough.

Anyway I appreciate the journals I read here. That connection with others through words is a magical thing..

Monday January 01, 07
11:15 AM - Counting sheep
[ 2 Comments ]
Here's one I posted on the forums. A bit of mischief I dreamed up when counting sheep didn't work. Slight revisions to improve it since...

Fireworks at the Festival

We’ve travelled to the park today
To see and hear good music played
We’ve paid the fee, so here we come
To sing along and have some fun!

We lend our ears to this years’ bands
But find their music rather bland
They cannot play, they cannot sing
In fact, they make an awful din.

But who is that, across the way?
The man can sing, the band can play!
It must be Morrissey, you know
My God! He’s ripping off his clothes!

With once-worn shirt he wipes the sweat
Around his chest and down his kecks
As many here will testify
It’s best to keep your powder dry.

He prowls the stage, he stays in tune
He makes the men and women swoon
Thousands gasp, then roar with lust;
“Don’t strike that pose, we’ll all combust!”

Across the park they hear the sounds
We fling ourselves onto the ground
The Audience, (don’t call us “fans”)
All go off in one great bang!

back to the sensible stuff later

Sinistra

Tuesday December 12, 06
02:04 AM - loose chippings
[ 2 Comments ]
With lace and thrills you tempt my heart
With sickly-sentimental lies
And though you are my favourite tart
I’ll never be your sweetie-pie.

Ah, Mother
Are you proud of what I have achieved
despite your best intentions?

Abiding discontent-
A life well spent?

Ephemeral pleasures-
To be treasured.

I remember everything-
Forgetting
Is a blessing.

Sunday November 12, 06
07:53 PM - crumbs
[ 1 Comment ]
Crumbs

Even you hold some things precious
Why try to destroy mine?

Think I’ll try oblivion in doses
So I can get used to it
Gradually.

Where are the dead when you need them?
Decaying while I’m praying
Not to be like them
Too soon..

Pictures inked on my skin
Chronicle my faded dreams
Creating on my body
The appearance of permanence
Of having and belonging…

I am a Thief
A stealer of words
Unguarded, overheard.

An opportunist
Snatching from the unsuspecting
Casually mislaid truths.

I can see why you want someone to sweep you off your feet.
If I wore those shoes, so would I…..
Saturday October 14, 06
09:39 PM - splinters
[ 6 Comments ]
Splinters

It is quiet
It is still
It is empty of so many ills..
Where are the people?

I don’t want to find myself
Clinging to the lamp-post again,
Holding on for fear
Of giving in to the temptation
To claim my end
Amongst wheels and dust…

Not another one;
Lost in pain
Trying to drown it out
But it endures, it floats
It returns and swamps hope,
Whether you wake up
Sober or hungover
You are still you.
Your face cannot hide it
The futile abuse
Drowning of truth
Self-pity, loathing
Is it all hopeless?
Or will you make the choice?
Better the pain you know
Than what you fear to face?
Or the will to live
Courage to give
To receive what you
Fear to hope for…

How many more?

The pressure of time.
All those conversations
We will never have..

All my heroes I have found
Not myth-like strong
But tragic, weak..
I can no longer trust in them
My faith is gone
My hope I'll keep.
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