Confession

I’ve decided, having been re-Pressed (had to be careful there!) myself recently, to re-Press someone else’s poem. This one, in particular. It’s glorious, and reminds me of a website that I can’t remember the URL for, where people would posts little confessions in a postcard style. The poem, though, is not a postcard; it’s a deep, provocative sentiment bundled into a few lines – a talent aptly displayed by my good friend and fellow poet, whattaildoesithave. Read her blog, and marvel at how much can be said with so few words. Here’s the place to begin:
Confession.

Ghosts

When you are dead, and all you love is gone,

And finally you reach the world beyond

The veil, don’t turn and cower from the light

And cling to life, in vain hope that you might

Come back to this. Surely, it isn’t worth

Abandoning the afterlife for Earth?

To walk among your peers might seem to most

A dream worth living for, but cheery ghosts

Are few and far between among the dead

That roam and moan alone, all doomed to tread

In gloom and sigh as they lament their lives

And watch faithful friends find their widowed wives

Where once they lay beside them on the bed.

There’s nothing left but pain for those who’ve fled

From God’s domain, and stumbled back to find

Their hopes sealed in the flesh they left behind:

A grim, grinning tomb. There’s nothing here,

So leave us!… But stay for a few more years.

Seeds

There’s not much one can do with seeds

Sprawled casually about the groin and thighs.

I know a subtle sweep is all I need

To rid myself of seeds of every size

And shape, to cast them to the floor

And laugh at their misfortune as they’re crushed

Beneath impending feet, as more and more

Piss-pungent interlopers join the late-lunch rush

To snag a desk, computer, chair,

And maybe some unlucky soul will sit

Where I was once, and weep to feel the flare

Of mixed seeds joining stagnant stains of shit.

But no, I’m far too kind for that,

So I’ll pick up every seed and crumb of bread

And replace them in the scattered plastic wrap –

Inevitably, I’ll just leave that instead.

Character #1 – Repression

I’m currently writing a short series of character monologues, which has actually been fairly therapeutic so far (irony). This is the first, and I’ll probably end up uploading others. Time to break away from purely poetry, I reckon. I’m probably wrong, though. Expect more poetry soon.

~

There are times when you talk – and let’s face it, really, that’s all the time, isn’t it? I never stop myself, until I’m in a conversation, then suddenly it’s nothing, not a word, while you (forgive me) stumble on.

Anyway, occasionally, I see you talking – because I look at people when they’re talking, I’m polite like that, and I don’t stare or pull faces, because that can actually be really off-putting, it’s horrible, really, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up… but I have now, so can you stop? Now? It’s frustrating, and I don’t feel that I should have to engage in frustrating conversations, do you? Well, that’s irrelevant; I refuse.

So, moving on, you’re talking, and I’m looking at you while you’re talking, and it feels like, I don’t know, you’re not really saying anything, except you are, but I can’t make it out. I know, it’s crazy, but I can’t understand you; I can’t take anything in, it just flies straight over my head, and I worry that it’s me. I mean, obviously, it’s me, I’d never suggest that you were anything but engaging, but I worry that I should really be trying harder to listen, and not just blaming it on peripheral noise – sorry, being pretentious – blaming it on things going on around me – wait, why am I patronising you, you know what peripheral noise is – and not actually connecting with what you’re saying. Do you see? It’s not good, and I don’t know what to do about it.

I think it’s time I started talking, and you actually listened. That would be for the best, wouldn’t it? Inputting into the conversation would surely keep me focused, keep me hanging on, rather than drifting off, and that way, you could actually only pretend to listen, like I have been, and come up with something interesting to say. That is, something new. I’m sure everything that you’ve been saying is interesting, it’s just that – well – it’s not. Do you see? I’m sorry, I’ve overstepped the mark, but I think it’s important to say these things. We can hopefully move on from this, and it’ll benefit the both of us, in the long run, in the foreseeable future.

Right? OK. Wow, pressure. Where do I begin? Hmm, tricky. Well, I suppose, if you don’t mind, I guess I’d like to start with –

Oh, damn. We’re out of time. Next week, I promise. I promise! OK, see you then. Take care – well, actually, don’t. Don’t take care. Live a little – live a lot; I don’t really mind which, just go and do something that creates a worthwhile anecdote that you can share without creating this redundant scenario we’ve just had here. OK? OK. See you then.