Saturday, June 7, 2014

Undriven (a poem for an unmotivated man)


https://www.flickr.com/photos/headphonaught/4193047197

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Undriven (a poem for an unmotivated man)
by Thomas Mathie

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Undriven.
Underprepared for being under the weather.
Unproductive unaction.
Unavailable for activity - certainly not the productivity I wish to undertake.
Uncertain even as to this certainty.
Unsure.
Undecided about even this unilateral course of action.
Uninspired.
Unmoved.
Unapologetic about being unable to move.
Unnecessary.
I should be listening to the underground so I can talk about in the overground.
But instead I am unseated & under the influence of forces that seek to slowly overwhelm & undermine.
The music remains unlistened - unloved by the lover in me.
Uneasy. I feel.
Unable to understand my inability to move beyond this point. It is unforeseen, an unknown.
Unknowable. I see now.
Unmoveable. I remain.
Unforgivable. I acknowledge.
Unacceptable. I realise.
Unsustainable. I agree.
Unlovable. I become.
I need to unlearn all that I have learned and challenge all that goes unchallenged.
I cannot be unaffected by my attack on this: my current status quo. I acknowledge I will not remain unchanged.
Unchained from my uncertainty, I will move forward undeterred but not undetected.
It will be at this point, I fully understand, that I will be unable to hide in the undergrowth of uniform conformity. I will, no more & no longer, conform to this uniformity.
Unwilling to remain unmoved I take this stand.
I will undo my unaction by undertaking to do, unafraid of my potential for unfortunate failure because I am driven once more.

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Thursday, June 5, 2014

There used to be (a poem for a drowned world)


https://www.flickr.com/photos/headphonaught/4363472766/

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There used to be (a poem for a drowned world)
by Thomas Mathie

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There used to be we'ans running in these streets
But now there’s no
Wee laddies & lassies kicking up a treat
But now there’s no
Progress comes at a cost
It's ne’er their homes that are lost
There used to be we'ans in these streets
But now there’s no.

There used to be flowers blooming on these streets
But now there’s no
Pretty wee flowers all about your feet
But now there’s no
Progress comes at a cost
It's ne’er their gardens that are lost
There used to be colour all o'er these streets
But now there’s no.

There used to be birdies singing in these streets
But now there’s no
Chirping and tweeting from their high seats
But now there’s no
Progress comes at a cost
It's ne’er their songs that are lost
There used to be songs sung in these streets
But now there’s no.

There used to be an effort made in these streets
But now there’s no
Struggling people making their ends meet
But now there’s no
Progress comes at a cost
It's ne’er their livelihoods that are lost
There used to be work had in these streets
But now there’s no.

There used to be women blethering on these streets
But now there’s no
Men bragging with the pals they meet
But now there’s no
Progress comes at a cost
It's ne’er their communities that are lost
There used to be a fellowship forged in these streets
But now there’s no.

There used to be life lived on these streets
But now there’s no
There used to be love felt on these streets
But now there's no
Progress comes at a cost
It's ne’er their life that is lost.
There used to be life loved on these streets
But now there's no.

There used to be a future seen in these streets
But now there’s no
A bright future for all to greet
But now there’s no
Progress comes at a cost
It's ne’er their hope that is lost.
There used to be a future in these streets
But now there's no.

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