Waiting for a Train

Full credit and kudos to Christopher Nolan for this little nugget. I thought I'd like to post this up a while ago. But right now seems like the best time. I think what I like so much about is how this same passage is used to convey different meanings through the movie.

It conveys guilt and the haunting of Maud in Cob's mind, whenever her shade speaks the words. Then there's the scene that shows Cob saying the same line using it to reassure his wife. I like how blank these words are! Anyway, for anyone who hasn't seen inception, I highly recommend it and now I shall post waiting for a train, which I consider to be quite poetic! (for what it's worth).

Waiting for a Train

You're waiting for a train. 

A train that will take you far away. 

You know where you hope the train will take you,

but you can't be sure. 

But it doesn't matter 

because 

we'll be together.

In my Eyes.

I have only one thing to say about this and it's a question. So reader's what would you do if you went back in time and you got to meet yourself? What would you say to the "old" you?

In my eyes.

Yesterday I went back in time

It was my sixth birthday

I know I never remembered being small

I saw myself with a crowd of children

I had a look on my face

I look I knew well

Hi little guy I thought

I did not say anything

What would they think

An interloper in their midst

A tall boy, yes not a tall man

Watching children

I turned and waited on the drive way

Out on the street

Eventually other cars came

The world passed over me

As though I was invisible

Once or twice I saw the younger

Me come down the drive

His arm waving floppy as though

All the muscle was missing

Or as though he still didn’t

Know how to move his

Arms

I think I had wondered what I

Might say to him all

Those hours

Before I went back

I knew it was nearly time

The sun was going down

My dad still had black

Hair not gray, not yet

Mum was standing by the drive

Standing with other older

People now my size, but back then

Giants and yet

In my eyes they were

Somehow the same

Then I saw my younger

Body turn

He looked at me

The way that a boy looks at

A stranger

I smiled back and he continued

To look

My dad took his hand

And he turned

There was no laughter in his eyes

And then I wondered

As I came back

I wondered what did he see

What had he seen

In my eyes.

If nothing else maybe this will make you smile...

I'm going to end this series of nostalgia posts, by going back to the future (yes...just like Marty). I hope you've enjoyed my foray into the past. I suspect it won't be the last. I think I'd like to take the chance to say that I apologise to any poets who find a lot of what I do here a little less than art or not introspective or wordy enough.

I think for me, this blog is a chance for me to run free and to experiment. It is not a finely hones world class collection of poems, it is simply a space for me to express myself. And I hope you appreciate my candour! Besides there is something to be said about what is raw and unrefined.

What Insanity is this... 

That true bliss is to be 

found in the truly mundane

that you don't need to go

more than a roll outside your

bed than you are greeted

with something worth remembering

What madness is beauty

What joy is nothing

I think really the only

Remarkable remark that

Need be made is that

That which is remarkable

Is completely unremarkable

In absolutely every way.

 A promise to yourself

a sweet promise 

you need to make

that every day in every life

shall be remarkable

today.

The Void of Space

 I wrote a poem when I was 12. I remember distinctly, the teacher played music. It was this really soaring operatic piece and it immediatly sent my into space. I think at the time I had heard a similiar piece at my Nan's when she started buying something called Music box. I think the first one was called Voyage to the Planets or that was the classical music that inspired the story that went with it. Anyway the sad thing is, I've been digging around my cupboard and I can't find it, but I know for a fact this is the second and last stanza of it.

I remember writing it as an odd moment. A moment where for once I didn't feel self conscious. I was proud of what I'd written. Anyway, here is The void of space, stripped down to it's bare essentials (what I can remember) and yet. I think if I tried to add anymore to it, it would only serve to make it worse.

The Void of Space

A long dark 

dreary void going

on forever

FEAR

Keeping with the theme of the past. I thought I'd post a few of my oldest poems. This poem pretty much speaks for itself, but to this day it is the only thing I have ever gotten published. Anyway here it is, hopefully you won't feel too dreary after reading it, but for me this is what FEAR feels like. If you were alone being afraid it would be easy, but you're never alone not even inside your own head. For those who love their structure they will be pleased to note this is a Quatrain, I wrote it back when I was in year 7 when I was 13.

FEAR

In the depths of pain I find 

Fear has found a foothold on my mind 

It juggles my mind without a care 

Tossing my thoughts everywhere

Confused, Deluded, Distorted I quiver with fear

My mind shows me things that are all to clear

I try to run I try to hide

The truth is I can’t escape my mind

It taunts me as if I were a toy

Cruel and mean methods it tends to employ

Though I know not what to do

In the end I must pull through

We simple people...we never cease to forget how happy we are :)

Hi all!

I'm in a great place at the moment. And sorry I haven't posted in a while. This post is incredibly self serving and I'm hoping that maybe my parents will see it. I don't think I really need to explain this next one. Hope you enjoy it and who knows for those ungrateful out their including me maybe this might open your eyes as well the way mine have been today!

Mum and Dad

I saw you today in the past

I saw you behind the camera

And I know that that is where you

Always are checking and making

Sure we’re happy and alive

In front of the screen

Dancing around on our feet

When they were small and

Even now that I’m older

I think it hurts

To think I don’t always

See how much you cared

It actually made me cry a little

But that’s a secret for me to keep

And it’s a smile for me to silently share

With you that I understand

How much you gave me and not in

A mushy way

Just the way that counts

There’s no point in writing and writing

Life is simple not pretty

Not artistic

You loved me

And this much I know

You only did what you did

Because you so wanted me to be all that I could be

You were proud

You always have been

Whether I was struggling to say

One word for two and a half years

Or now

I know whatever it is I do now

Really doesn’t matter

There’s something in me that

No success or failure can claim

As I said life is simple and this poem

Is even simpler.
Thank you Mum.

Thank you Dad.

I will try to take hold of the camera in the

Future, I hope you know what I know.

And....

The Portrait of me

Why is it the only thing

That makes me as sad as this

Is the end of something

But I don’t think I’m crying

About the end, it’s the middle

And all in between

They say pictures tell stories

But i know I was happy

And really I still am

But we simple people

We never cease to forget how

Happy we always are...