I wrote this about a week before the birth of our first child. It mostly about the sudden love that you feel for this child that you have never seen before except on a scan monitor.
I saw your heart
And fell in love
I saw your hand
And wanted to hold it
I saw your body
And wanted to lift it
I saw your legs
And wanted to strengthen them
I saw your back
And wanted to stroke it
I saw your brain
And wanted to teach it
I saw your face
And wanted to kiss it
I saw your wave
I waved back.
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
Late night scenes.
It's at that point
In the night
As the minute hand struggles
To the top of the clock.
Most of us
Cuccooned in warm beds.
Some sleep quietly
Some turn with annoying repetitiveness.
Some still party
Adrenaline pumping
In time with the music
Minds swim in atmosphere and red bull.
Some sit desks
Or some other work
TV or radio, their only friend.
But they won't let you answer back.
Some drive home
In metal boxes
Sat there in their own little worlds
Nearly noticing the world flying past.
Some slumped by doors
A cardboard quilt
Just too tired to beg.
No one cares anyhow.
Some sit on a bench
And weep into hands.
A love lost or never gained.
The night is cruel to loneliness.
Some sit on a bed
And stare at a candle
Frantically writing down their thoughts
In another unpublished poem.
In the night
As the minute hand struggles
To the top of the clock.
Most of us
Cuccooned in warm beds.
Some sleep quietly
Some turn with annoying repetitiveness.
Some still party
Adrenaline pumping
In time with the music
Minds swim in atmosphere and red bull.
Some sit desks
Or some other work
TV or radio, their only friend.
But they won't let you answer back.
Some drive home
In metal boxes
Sat there in their own little worlds
Nearly noticing the world flying past.
Some slumped by doors
A cardboard quilt
Just too tired to beg.
No one cares anyhow.
Some sit on a bench
And weep into hands.
A love lost or never gained.
The night is cruel to loneliness.
Some sit on a bed
And stare at a candle
Frantically writing down their thoughts
In another unpublished poem.
Friday, 8 October 2010
Disconnected
Had to go to the american embassy today. They have a strict policy on electrical items including phones, so I had to leave mine at home. It felt very strange, almost as if I had left a part of me behind.
So I wrote this about it.
Disconnected
"No phones allowed!" the letter said
"Inside this embassy"
Overcome with sense of dread
"Not have my phone with me?"
Sat on the train, I feel cut off
Alone now with my thoughts
Newspapers distract enough
Briefly glanced sports reports.
So much to say, but no way to.
I'm not used to this.
Had my phone since ninety-two,
Now it's the thing I miss.
No link to the "Twitterati"
No "How's it going there"
No "Please come to my party"
No one to say they care.
Who am I when I'm not online,
Left with myself only?
Do I cease to be somehow?
Am I an iPhoney?
Andy Best 08/10/2010
So I wrote this about it.
Disconnected
"No phones allowed!" the letter said
"Inside this embassy"
Overcome with sense of dread
"Not have my phone with me?"
Sat on the train, I feel cut off
Alone now with my thoughts
Newspapers distract enough
Briefly glanced sports reports.
So much to say, but no way to.
I'm not used to this.
Had my phone since ninety-two,
Now it's the thing I miss.
No link to the "Twitterati"
No "How's it going there"
No "Please come to my party"
No one to say they care.
Who am I when I'm not online,
Left with myself only?
Do I cease to be somehow?
Am I an iPhoney?
Andy Best 08/10/2010
Thursday, 7 October 2010
The longest journey starts with just one step.
Well, here goes something new.
The idea is this.
I have a whole load of poems sat in various books in various drawers. I also have a whole load of random thoughts floating round my head. Some may be worth reading, some may not, but at least people can have a look and make their own minds up. It will also encourage me to write a bit more.
How long will it last? Who can say.
Will I be discovered and become the people's poet for a new generation? Probably not.
Will it make people smile, think, look at the world differently? Hopefully.
We will see.
Hope you enjoy it anyway.
Bestie
The idea is this.
I have a whole load of poems sat in various books in various drawers. I also have a whole load of random thoughts floating round my head. Some may be worth reading, some may not, but at least people can have a look and make their own minds up. It will also encourage me to write a bit more.
How long will it last? Who can say.
Will I be discovered and become the people's poet for a new generation? Probably not.
Will it make people smile, think, look at the world differently? Hopefully.
We will see.
Hope you enjoy it anyway.
Bestie
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