So, this is it, the last poem of 2011. I'm sat here listening to The Kooks - Naive, which for some reason feels appropriate. As I said a month or so ago, I will be posting a proper conclusion on January 1st - without a poem - this is because I wrote an introduction saying what I would do this year, also without a poem. I thought this made it seem more full circle.
And for those who think I've cheated and missed out on two poems, I posted two extra in November, just to be thorough.
I would love to be able to tell you that I have been thinking about this poem for months and have perfected what you're about to read. But I haven't. In fact, I'm still not too sure what I'm going to write about.
Sad as it may make me appear, I actually feel a bit emotional that this is the last one. I'll stop blabbing on, you get my emotional mush of a summary tomorrow. Something for you to look forward to in 2012 - the year the world ends apparently. But I will say here, that thank you to any one who has read this. Anyone who has looked at this blog in the past year, even if you're not reading now and will never know how grateful I am that people took some time to read this.
Here we go, the last poem. It will look as if I just started typing whatever, technology can't show my thinking process but rest assured, I'm going to think and come back to it. This is important.
It could be said there is a poem
for pretty much everything
from a sonnet for your heart to sing
to a limerick of Ireland
and a man called Jim.
I have tried all this year to write
with maybe not all the words I know
they're mostly simple, but I wanted to show
what my world is like
maybe not fabulously, but it's so so.
My world is ordinary, this I know
and most would be likely to agree
it's friends, esteem, education and family
but I have tried to notice
that what makes it extraordinary.
The sunlit glow of a grey street
wondering about the stories
of strangers we meet
and memories that we all wish to keep.
Comfortable silences
what it feels like to be kissed
to be young
and with people you love
the simple pleasure
of smiling on a sunny day
thinking of the future
of growing older
thinking of childhood
what could, would, should
of been
and still always remembering
to be in the now.
We all know that
there are counted days
and counted words
but I suppose what I've learnt
is not to drown in it all
but absorb and live,
maybe not be a focus of the world
but to have my own
to make it compelling
to have my own story
that is worth telling.
And for those who think I've cheated and missed out on two poems, I posted two extra in November, just to be thorough.
I would love to be able to tell you that I have been thinking about this poem for months and have perfected what you're about to read. But I haven't. In fact, I'm still not too sure what I'm going to write about.
Sad as it may make me appear, I actually feel a bit emotional that this is the last one. I'll stop blabbing on, you get my emotional mush of a summary tomorrow. Something for you to look forward to in 2012 - the year the world ends apparently. But I will say here, that thank you to any one who has read this. Anyone who has looked at this blog in the past year, even if you're not reading now and will never know how grateful I am that people took some time to read this.
Here we go, the last poem. It will look as if I just started typing whatever, technology can't show my thinking process but rest assured, I'm going to think and come back to it. This is important.
Picture is not meant to be arrogant, I just thought since it was poem about me, this was probably the best image to have.
It could be said there is a poem
for pretty much everything
from a sonnet for your heart to sing
to a limerick of Ireland
and a man called Jim.
I have tried all this year to write
with maybe not all the words I know
they're mostly simple, but I wanted to show
what my world is like
maybe not fabulously, but it's so so.
My world is ordinary, this I know
and most would be likely to agree
it's friends, esteem, education and family
but I have tried to notice
that what makes it extraordinary.
The sunlit glow of a grey street
wondering about the stories
of strangers we meet
and memories that we all wish to keep.
Comfortable silences
what it feels like to be kissed
to be young
and with people you love
the simple pleasure
of smiling on a sunny day
thinking of the future
of growing older
thinking of childhood
what could, would, should
of been
and still always remembering
to be in the now.
We all know that
there are counted days
and counted words
but I suppose what I've learnt
is not to drown in it all
but absorb and live,
maybe not be a focus of the world
but to have my own
to make it compelling
to have my own story
that is worth telling.
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