I'm not sure of why i wrote this, or where the idea came from. I think it might have something to do with me being irritated at myself because i never work hard enough to accomplish the things i want to accomplish in life.
Not that i want to be a musician, not really. So the text is about one person, not two. Kapish?
Oh how i wish i could play the guitar
Then i wouldn't have to sing a different tune everytime
I could play the same melody
Not overwork my fantasy
And everyone would know this song
And I'd be famous
Rich and strong
Not like you
You're sitting at home, doing nothing
While i am plotting
How to climb the charts.
I win
I win
I am cooler then you!
I get to sign stuff
And go on a tour
Everyone is screaming when i enter the stage
While you are imploding with rage. Right?
I hope you're imploding with rage..
I have to wear sunglasses
You do it for show
I'm so famous i can't even go for a stroll
You hate me
I pity you
Even though we've never met
All because you are not famous yet.
I glimpse you at the back in the audience one night
It's easy to see that you clearly stand out
You're not in the crowd
You're standing alone
And I'm feeling somehow
That you won.
And you're feeling somehow that i won.
Tuesday
For You.
See, this is what happens to me when i fall in love. I start to write bad, clichè lovesongs! Ah well, i like the melody.
I love you
You love me
We were just meant to be
So I'm singing this song for you
For the times
And the laughs
And for both of our pasts
I am singing this song for you
Because nothing
Or no one
Not ever again
Will make me feel like singing to them.
I wake up
Turn around
And my heart hits the ground
I am singing a song without you.
You are gone
So am i
This is not a goodbye
It is more like a see you soon.
We are oceans apart
But you still hold my heart
And we're under the same blue moon
Miss your smell
Miss your smile
Miss your hand holding mine
I will always be singing for you
Because nothing
Not ever
Can keep us apart
Not as long as we live in our hearts.
I love you
You love me
We were just meant to be
So I'm singing this song for you
For the times
And the laughs
And for both of our pasts
I am singing this song for you
Because nothing
Or no one
Not ever again
Will make me feel like singing to them.
I wake up
Turn around
And my heart hits the ground
I am singing a song without you.
You are gone
So am i
This is not a goodbye
It is more like a see you soon.
We are oceans apart
But you still hold my heart
And we're under the same blue moon
Miss your smell
Miss your smile
Miss your hand holding mine
I will always be singing for you
Because nothing
Not ever
Can keep us apart
Not as long as we live in our hearts.
Interweb Dwellers.
I actually just wrote this, directly into the box here on this site. I know it's not a very good one, but i felt like adding a bit more to the blog.. Sorry, i really am lazy. This could be a poem about me really, i am hopelessly addicted to the Internet..
I poked you on Facebook,
you did not reply,
I wondered, what's happening here?
So i wrote on your wall,
'Hey you, what's going on?'
You were offline and i was scared.
Then i checked you on Bebo,
and Messenger too.
But you were nowhere to be found.
I decided to do a Yahoo search then,
just to see if you were still around.
When nothing came up,
I could feel my heart stop,
and i changed my mood on Myspace
to 'confused'.
Then i tried to create a profile
on the Friendfinder site,
but all the good nicknames
had been used.
It's hard days for friendship
not made on a screen,
and scary at times
to meet people for real.
When you spend all your time
Googling stuff,
drinking wine,
going out is a big ordeal.
I poked you on Facebook,
you did not reply,
I wondered, what's happening here?
So i wrote on your wall,
'Hey you, what's going on?'
You were offline and i was scared.
Then i checked you on Bebo,
and Messenger too.
But you were nowhere to be found.
I decided to do a Yahoo search then,
just to see if you were still around.
When nothing came up,
I could feel my heart stop,
and i changed my mood on Myspace
to 'confused'.
Then i tried to create a profile
on the Friendfinder site,
but all the good nicknames
had been used.
It's hard days for friendship
not made on a screen,
and scary at times
to meet people for real.
When you spend all your time
Googling stuff,
drinking wine,
going out is a big ordeal.
Monday
Jellyfish Love Story.
This poem breaks all the rules of poetry, except for that it occasionally rhymes. But i am very fond of it, it's my Romeo and Juliet.
With a red rose in his beak
He swam out into the sea
He was giddy but sad
Because love had gotten him bad
His big dilemma was this:
He had a crush on a jellyfish!
She was soft as silk and wobbly
With a laughter gay and bubbly
He reached a underwater stream
Blinking in the last sunbeam
He knew his slimy love would come
When the trace of day had gone
So he waited patiently
And wished for hands instead of beak
Because his rose was getting wet
Oh, how his shaky girl would fret!
At last she came up to the surface
Compared to her the stars were worthless
But our hero in this story
Felt his stomach twist with worry
She did not at all look happy
Oh, perhaps she thought him sappy?
Bringing roses out into the ocean
Making all this big commotion
When their love was never meant to be
Separated as they were by the sea
She sighed and said:
This cannot be
You know there is no you and me
I am a lady of the sea
So please at once stop this nonsense
We all know you were manufactured by Johnson&Johnson.
Our hero dropped his rose
Then he turned around to sulk
There was nothing more to say
They were true the words she spoke
His existence was a joke!
He thought:
My Lord how it can suck
To be a yellow rubber duck.
(Some relationships are just not meant to exist, like between a rubber duck and a jellyfish).
With a red rose in his beak
He swam out into the sea
He was giddy but sad
Because love had gotten him bad
His big dilemma was this:
He had a crush on a jellyfish!
She was soft as silk and wobbly
With a laughter gay and bubbly
He reached a underwater stream
Blinking in the last sunbeam
He knew his slimy love would come
When the trace of day had gone
So he waited patiently
And wished for hands instead of beak
Because his rose was getting wet
Oh, how his shaky girl would fret!
At last she came up to the surface
Compared to her the stars were worthless
But our hero in this story
Felt his stomach twist with worry
She did not at all look happy
Oh, perhaps she thought him sappy?
Bringing roses out into the ocean
Making all this big commotion
When their love was never meant to be
Separated as they were by the sea
She sighed and said:
This cannot be
You know there is no you and me
I am a lady of the sea
So please at once stop this nonsense
We all know you were manufactured by Johnson&Johnson.
Our hero dropped his rose
Then he turned around to sulk
There was nothing more to say
They were true the words she spoke
His existence was a joke!
He thought:
My Lord how it can suck
To be a yellow rubber duck.
(Some relationships are just not meant to exist, like between a rubber duck and a jellyfish).
The Most Infamous Coats In The History Of Mankind.
This story is just plain weird, and i (honestly) have no recollection of when, why or where i wrote it. Nowadays i call it a tribute to Doctor Who, but that's just an excuse.
“Oh don't be daft,” said the old coat in the wardrobe, “you've never been to Narnia, you haven't been outside this wardrobe since the beginning of the 80's when you were still in fashion.” The other coat didn't answer, she hated it when others tried to make her look stupid.
“Well, don't just hang there, say something, defend yourself you silly rain coat.”
“I'm not a rain coat!” It wasn't the best comeback of the year, but not to bad considering it came from a inanimate piece of fur that technically had been dead for the last 27 years.
“Am too!”
“Am not!”
“Am too!”
“Oh stuff it you two, even if there was a Narnia in here somewhere you wouldn't have been there.” An old, black leather jacket spoke up, his voice slightly cracked, just like the leather.
“Wadda you mean by that?"
“Well, only children are allowed to enter Narnia, everyone knows that.”
“So?”
“Ah well you see, you are a big fur coat. Far to large to fit on a small child. They would simply stumble and fall if they tried to walk around while wearing you.”
Silence occurred.
“You know, he's got a point.”
“Shut up.”
“It's true, you're too big.”
“Hmpf.”
“Excellent comeback.”
Leather jacket speaks up again.
“Now be nice to her, it's only natural that she wants to feel interesting. After all, it isn't all that exiting to be a fur coat. They're awfully out of fashion these days.”
The fur coat feels a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment, so she decides to turn the spotlight elsewhere.
“So, leather jacket eh. Whereabouts are you from then?”
The leather jacket is quiet for a while, he looks like a jacket who has a lot on his mind. Not very different from usual though, a jacket is a jacket.
“I, er, was left here a while back a go. By a man. He had to, i mean, he wouldn't have left me if he didn't have to. But he was busy saving the world.”
The fur coat snorted and whispered a bit to loudly,
“Now see who's seeking attention by telling stupid lies. 'saving the world', blimey, he's a nutter.”
“No it's true, this really is true. You won't believe the things I've seen, the coat racks and chairs I've been hanging on!”
Doubting silence enters the wardrobe.
“Nah, sorry mate, don't believe you.” The other coat speaks up, he's been silent for a while now, and feel like it's his turn to say something clever.
“If he was busy saving the world, how come did he have the time to hang you up inside a nice wardrobe like this?”
The leather jacket is silent for a while, but just to build up the tension.
“He's got a time machine, so taking time is part of his business.”
“Yeah, right. And I'm a pair of trousers.”
“It's true, he really is a hero with a time machine!”
“So, how come i haven't heard of him then?”
“Well, maybe because you've spent the last two decades in here doing nothing?”
“Shut up.”
“Shut up.”
“Did he have a name then?”
“Who?”
“The hero you used to hang around on?”
“Yeah, or not really. He called himself the doctor.”
"Doctor who?"
"No, just the doctor."
“....”
“But he isn't like a doctor with a stethoscope or anything.”
“You can't be a doctor and not have a stethoscope.”
“Well, he has a screwdriver.”
“That's no good, is it?”
“it's sonic.”
“Ah, sonic. That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Um, dunno really, just making conversation.”
“Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Bugger off.”
R.
“Oh don't be daft,” said the old coat in the wardrobe, “you've never been to Narnia, you haven't been outside this wardrobe since the beginning of the 80's when you were still in fashion.” The other coat didn't answer, she hated it when others tried to make her look stupid.
“Well, don't just hang there, say something, defend yourself you silly rain coat.”
“I'm not a rain coat!” It wasn't the best comeback of the year, but not to bad considering it came from a inanimate piece of fur that technically had been dead for the last 27 years.
“Am too!”
“Am not!”
“Am too!”
“Oh stuff it you two, even if there was a Narnia in here somewhere you wouldn't have been there.” An old, black leather jacket spoke up, his voice slightly cracked, just like the leather.
“Wadda you mean by that?"
“Well, only children are allowed to enter Narnia, everyone knows that.”
“So?”
“Ah well you see, you are a big fur coat. Far to large to fit on a small child. They would simply stumble and fall if they tried to walk around while wearing you.”
Silence occurred.
“You know, he's got a point.”
“Shut up.”
“It's true, you're too big.”
“Hmpf.”
“Excellent comeback.”
Leather jacket speaks up again.
“Now be nice to her, it's only natural that she wants to feel interesting. After all, it isn't all that exiting to be a fur coat. They're awfully out of fashion these days.”
The fur coat feels a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment, so she decides to turn the spotlight elsewhere.
“So, leather jacket eh. Whereabouts are you from then?”
The leather jacket is quiet for a while, he looks like a jacket who has a lot on his mind. Not very different from usual though, a jacket is a jacket.
“I, er, was left here a while back a go. By a man. He had to, i mean, he wouldn't have left me if he didn't have to. But he was busy saving the world.”
The fur coat snorted and whispered a bit to loudly,
“Now see who's seeking attention by telling stupid lies. 'saving the world', blimey, he's a nutter.”
“No it's true, this really is true. You won't believe the things I've seen, the coat racks and chairs I've been hanging on!”
Doubting silence enters the wardrobe.
“Nah, sorry mate, don't believe you.” The other coat speaks up, he's been silent for a while now, and feel like it's his turn to say something clever.
“If he was busy saving the world, how come did he have the time to hang you up inside a nice wardrobe like this?”
The leather jacket is silent for a while, but just to build up the tension.
“He's got a time machine, so taking time is part of his business.”
“Yeah, right. And I'm a pair of trousers.”
“It's true, he really is a hero with a time machine!”
“So, how come i haven't heard of him then?”
“Well, maybe because you've spent the last two decades in here doing nothing?”
“Shut up.”
“Shut up.”
“Did he have a name then?”
“Who?”
“The hero you used to hang around on?”
“Yeah, or not really. He called himself the doctor.”
"Doctor who?"
"No, just the doctor."
“....”
“But he isn't like a doctor with a stethoscope or anything.”
“You can't be a doctor and not have a stethoscope.”
“Well, he has a screwdriver.”
“That's no good, is it?”
“it's sonic.”
“Ah, sonic. That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Um, dunno really, just making conversation.”
“Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Bugger off.”
R.
My ferret and I.
This is not just a short story, this is a very short story. And it is based on a dream i had, a very strange dream that occasionally still makes me take a look under my bed.
It all started with a 'Ding!'
Like the sound coming from one of those fancy elevators you sometimes find in posh hotels. You know, the ones with a uniformed, bored looking lad whose only job is to press a button, inside.
It came from somewhere under my bed.
I've never been one to ponder, so it was all soon forgotten.
One..
Two..
Three days later i heard someone shuffling around.
Once again it came from somewhere under my bed.
Maybe i should have had a look then, just a tiny peek.
But i didn't.
Four..
Five..
Six days after the 'Ding!' I heard a voice.
'Oy mate, could'ye give us a hand down'ere?'
I stopped chewing on my apple and slowly bent over to see the source of the rude cockney accent.
It was a ferret.
He was wearing a beret and a striped scarf.
And he was carrying two heavy looking paper bags from Tesco.
'Think i might'ave dropped som o'those apples mate, could'ya be a doll an' pick'em up for me?'
I nodded slowly and picked up the four discarded apples.
He held out one of the paper bags for me to drop the apples in to.
And so i did.
Then he sat down the groceries and pushed the button so the doors to the elevator would open up and let him in.
I never noticed before, but there was an elevator under my bed. A very small one.
'Well, thanks mate, guess I'll see ya'round sometime, yeah?'
Again i nodded, dumbfounded.
I didn't know they had paper bags at Tesco.
R.
It all started with a 'Ding!'
Like the sound coming from one of those fancy elevators you sometimes find in posh hotels. You know, the ones with a uniformed, bored looking lad whose only job is to press a button, inside.
It came from somewhere under my bed.
I've never been one to ponder, so it was all soon forgotten.
One..
Two..
Three days later i heard someone shuffling around.
Once again it came from somewhere under my bed.
Maybe i should have had a look then, just a tiny peek.
But i didn't.
Four..
Five..
Six days after the 'Ding!' I heard a voice.
'Oy mate, could'ye give us a hand down'ere?'
I stopped chewing on my apple and slowly bent over to see the source of the rude cockney accent.
It was a ferret.
He was wearing a beret and a striped scarf.
And he was carrying two heavy looking paper bags from Tesco.
'Think i might'ave dropped som o'those apples mate, could'ya be a doll an' pick'em up for me?'
I nodded slowly and picked up the four discarded apples.
He held out one of the paper bags for me to drop the apples in to.
And so i did.
Then he sat down the groceries and pushed the button so the doors to the elevator would open up and let him in.
I never noticed before, but there was an elevator under my bed. A very small one.
'Well, thanks mate, guess I'll see ya'round sometime, yeah?'
Again i nodded, dumbfounded.
I didn't know they had paper bags at Tesco.
R.
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