Sponsored Post Learn from the experts: Create a successful blog with our brand new courseThe WordPress.com Blog

Are you new to blogging, and do you want step-by-step guidance on how to publish and grow your blog? Learn more about our new Blogging for Beginners course and get 50% off through December 10th.

WordPress.com is excited to announce our newest offering: a course just for beginning bloggers where you’ll learn everything you need to know about blogging from the most trusted experts in the industry. We have helped millions of blogs get up and running, we know what works, and we want you to to know everything we know. This course provides all the fundamental skills and inspiration you need to get your blog started, an interactive community forum, and content updated annually.

The Blank Stare

I dinnae stare blankly ahead, a dead giveaway,
Nor at the table travelling a’tween us.
I am lost, as it were, in the moment
Or give the appearance of being so.

Looking around when I alighted
I noticed the dozens like me..
Quilted nobodys wi’ woolly hats
From which hang twa plastic spheres.

Their music must be on awfully loud
For I can hear the hissing fits of it
Conjoined with the jolt of the train
The racket meeting a juddering clackit.

But now am fair settled here, next a window,
Passing the time wi’ ma Bluetooth ear muffs
Smiling away tae ma sel’ listening tae nuthin’
But the drivel that falls out of folks lips.

An feelin’ glad that I havnae got a mobile.

Counting

To taste each breath, roll the air around the mouth, make each lungful count for something bigger than oneself is the aim. Always has been. That blood – oxygenated and heady – with ingredients of a life force, the instigator of thoughts, of feelings, of desires, racing through veins and arteries with purpose.

Alexa..

Alexa has no empathy
No algorithm for morose.
She has toyed with my emotions.
My request, “Crying”,
Returned as, “Get Down On It.”
Seems like only the other day
That she got my mood in one,
When I commanded, “Imagine”
Alexa said, “Back to life (Back to reality).
I admit that she perked me up that day,
But that moment was transient.
I tire of her incessant cheerfulness;
She knows I have no legs.
So here I am, in this smoke filled room,
Alexa is dead, “Bang Bang (I shot her down)”
“Let’s Dance” having barely left her lips.

The Window

Here lies the self I became.
By the open window, the self who sees
All of my other selves at play.

The gate of the confident self.
An egotist who carries his arrogance
Lightly, contented in a way.

A worried self whose eyes lower,
Looking inwardly at the aching –
The parceled guilt, unopened.

The smell of bleached academia
As that self unravels universal rules
By equations never before seen.

A book worm self who imagines
His way into his own world
Through the adventures of others.

Glowing into the centre of attention
Comes the dapper self not yet aware
Of people turning their heads away.

The window is closing, I hear it.
Conversation dwindles, then ceases,
Between me, myself and I.









The Clearing

As I trample on the fallen leaves,
Breaking what was left of their hearts,
Over the water, around the trees,
Who seem indifferent to my being there,
The gathered grey of our lives together
Swirls in abstract formation trying to
Coalesce into some solid, touchable matter.
I can taste the coming coldness.

The Viewing

Staring at it now
I can see the flaws.
Like everything
One supposes.

You have to do something
In order to regret it,
Enjoy a moment
To capture its opposite.

My paintbrush climbs hills,
Sees the sunshine that I do not,
Creates blue skies
Where mine are grey.

Up close, I see the strokes
Where, fortuitously, colours bled
Into each other as if somehow
They knew that together was better.