This Far Come
SYNOPSIS: A poem that is meant to celebrate my fiftieth post, but me thinks I go a little off track. Not surprising though…I spend half my life a little off track…
This verse here – it’s a national anthem
for all poetic demons and phantoms
lingering in the minds of writers
who wish to be brave souls and fighters
in the barren world of literature,
where one’s mind and dreams are the only cure.
I want to have true love running throughout my head,
but I have words of death and destruction instead
which makes been a romantic so painful,
while my muse; you remain so beautiful;
a flawless image of perfection
to which I give all of my passion.
I have been writing since I was very young,
since I had the ability of my tongue,
and since I could hold a pen straight in my hand.
I wanted to be revered across the land,
but been a writer, it ain’t easy to do,
and I’m certain you know this part to be true.
To my fellow writer, do not ever give in,
even if people think you are living in sin,
for if sins are so passionate, why can’t we have more,
cuz I don’t think I have loved one quite so much before.
And even if I did, writing would always come first,
for it is my stamina, my courage, and my thirst.
I am cursed to never stop writing words over and over,
just as those drunk on love are required to become sober,
for this is eternal, this is destiny,
and writing words shall one day set my heart free,
and perhaps on this day I can finally be yours,
and Heaven’s angels will grace us with their mild applause.
This may be a poem on writing, but it’s about love too,
and the young lady I love, it could only ever be you.
However, this poem is also about memory
and to tell the whole truth I will have to tell a story
about the day I truly began living and officially came alive
when I joined a band on a cold autumn’s day in April, 2005.
In our band there was Melok, Dorothy, Jason and I,
and sometimes Ashley, Kimberly, and once, the other guy.
Jason played drums and guitar and so did Dorothy,
and so did I, but lyrics and bass – they were all me.
Ashley and Kimberly, they performed our vocals and Melok was our muse,
and like a grade-A footy team, with them by our side – we never did lose.
For five years in total we performed and we played
and I only wish that together we had stayed.
But time, as it always does, it splits people apart,
and when I think back to these moments, it breaks my heart
to know that we will probably never see each other ever again.
We were not destined to be musicians; we were not destined to be friends.
We did not perform across state nor our country, just at our school,
but hey (snigger), come to think of it, we were pretty friggin’ cool.
We performed to a wide amount of audiences over the years
and heard much appreciation for our music through shouts, cries and cheers.
We were just a stereotypical Melbournian school band,
no, come to think of it we were not; no, we ruled the heartland!
Those good times, they were good, but when bad, they were terribly bad,
and I won’t talk about such moments cuz they make me real sad,
for although we have been apart for some time now, at the time we had only just left,
and such a feeling, it caused me to become so cold, lifeless and utterly bereft.
We grew up, we moved away; we became who we have grown up to be,
and although we have lost touch, I would like to think we found destiny.
I went to university, and I still am there now,
and I ain’t quite yet ready to simply throw in the towel,
for in my first year I met my beautiful creative writing tutor, Tara,
who is a poet, playwright and editor who’s originally from Canberra.
She was an expert poetic ninja and frequently cut us with her figurative swords,
wishing to turn all of us into little poetic princes, princesses, ladies and lords.
‘How dare you call that a rhyme’ she once cried, ‘whilst using that word,
for such a poetic technique is so utterly absurd.’
Another time she instructed ‘this isn’t the right rhyme to use, are you completely crazy?
But do not fret – you have me as your tutor, and we’ll make a poet out of you yet DC.’
I cannot nor ever will be able to thank Tara enough, her teachings I cannot measure,
but I know for a fact that everything she taught to me I will forever and always treasure.
And now I have a blog, which I began in December 2011.
How many months have I been actively publishing these posts? Is it eight, or seven?
I have written poems and stories about love, betrayal, redemption and other places across the world, the likes of New Orleans,
America, Spain, New York City, Europe, Australia, all of Asia, the Middle East and additionally the Philippines.
However, to this day I remain my harshest critic,
and what I have to say for myself is quite horrific;
‘this is nothing spectacular,
it’s nowhere in particular,
nothing that can’t be found in any quarter mile,
no matter the journey, the tracker or the file,
for this is a road that’s only travelled by some
but for me, I am happy – to be this far come.’
Now, I would like to thank all who have liked and commented on my many pieces,
and give a shout out to all who have followed me – thank you for your performances.
All of you have played the part of an extraordinary audience,
so please, I hope you accept my gratitude, which comes at no expense!
Of course, if you secretly dislike me, I ask that you call ASIO, the CIA and the FBI
and even then I fear the most powerful of all authorities ain’t gonna be able to stop this guy!
Cuz I would like to think that I am a writer, and I hope this to be true,
and the reason I write is not for me, no, it is for every one of you!
So thank you again for your follows, and I hope I was a gracious host,
for you are the kind of audience every human being cherishes most.
Of course, I would also like to thank the woman of my dreams, the lady who is my muse,
she however doesn’t know the role she plays yet. Should I tell her? What do I have to lose?
Cheers! Thank you for reading!