Harry Is A Poet

If you're having a bad day, this a message for you
Written on a letter, sealed with love and glue
For you to open, whenever it's a struggle to get through
This bad day is one we're both gonna beat black and blue
...
...
Dear friend in the wilderness. Dear voice in the mist
Sometimes it seems like our fate has been kissed
Days when we're not tired and sick, days when all will go well
This is dedicated to those days when you go through hell
Here's a fact. You've been through plenty of struggles in your life thus far
These struggles don't make us stronger or weaker. They make us who we are
I can say for sure, when this day is finally through
You're going to emerge as a different you
Let me say something else, no matter what challenge you face
We all have reasons to be setback in the human race
The reason can be clear, something we can see touch and feel
Other times it's not. Rest assured that this battle's still real
When all is done and the dust can finally settle
Please appreciate the toughness and strength of your mettle
It's the challenges of life that make it great
It's often struggles that make us remember the date
You're someone who has woken up, and somehow always found a way
To have a 100% hit-rate of surviving each day
Then just consider this related fact to be so true
That no bad day of yet has ever survived you ***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/05/a-bad-day.html

She had that beauty which came from getting up an hour earlier than the sun
And staring endlessly into the mirror willing herself through the next day
Even with a sense of anxious pride about who she was and what she'd done
There was only one small part of her that had never wished this life away
No, it was not those startling clear blue eyes, clouded windows to a troubled soul
Nor was it those carefully shaved legs which had walked through a thousand dreams
It was the voice inside that let her knowthis was her life, this was her goal
She'd deserved the adoration, and every one of her fans' desperate screams
Finally, the world was proclaiming her The Star she'd always wished in her heart
She'd been raised up high for the world to see and adore entirely
She'd never have to worry about loneliness, or the price of her shopping cart
She could shape this reality to however she wished it to be
Takingadeepbreath, she made the voice inside slowly silence, then subside
Knowing that overconfidence was a strong bug by which to be bitten
She'd taken a step, when the first embers of her fame had been realised
She got out the well-worn, tear-stained letter she'd written
"Dear Star, for that's who I know you'll be and what you are
Please remember, when life is going far too much your way
That's not just who you are. You're more than a superstar
No matter how fantastic, no matter how glamourous the day
You are me, the girl sat here full of dreams and wishes
You were the daughter of parents who gave you their all
Though you may one day be served as one of high society's great dishes
Please remember that both gravity and pride can make stars fall
It is not wrong to be liked. It is not wrong for effort to meet reward
Just remember that whatever else, you are still you. Signed lovingly, you!"
She'd taken these words with as much care as she could afford
After all, she was The Star, and it was all she could ever do.

***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/05/the-famous-girl.html

Sometimes I like to say
Let's go wild and adventure
So lets go to our baser nature
And be animalistic in how we play
YetI don't wanna be a jellyfish
'cause without needing to wish
you can already see right through me
I don't wanna be a zebra neither
'cause I don't need ya
to spend that much time crossing me
I don't wanna be a lion
I'm not lyin'
I don't wanna have that much pride
I don't wanna be an armadillo
Couldn't be your pillow
I just wanna be right there by your side
I don't wanna be a bat
Or a rat or a cat
Or anything else in fact than what you see
I don't wanna be a tortoise
Or a porpoise
Or anything other than you and me
I don't wanna defend
The fact I wanna to spend
Every second at your beck and call
In the end,
Let's not pretend
We're anything but animals after all ***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/05/were-animals.html

It's funny, I still see the same things
I still know red is not blue
The morning bluebirds still sing
And yet, somehow, it's twisted
While still being old, not new
As if my brainitself has misted
I can still chat and converse
With a throat that's dry
As I pretend the reverse
Its a flaw so clear, yet so weird
That the world through my eyes
Could be so easily smeared ***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/04/fever.html

I'm sorry, can you please repeat for me
I swear that I was paying attention
The fact is I was temporarily
Thinking up a brand new life invention
It would be small, light and easy to hold
Be cheap enough every person could buy
Work in high temperatures and in the cold
Keep working until the day that you die
So it's robust and tough and versatile
Now I hear you ask "what does it do?"
I was on the verge of that insight while
I was distracted by listening to you
So, again, could you repeat what you said?
And I'll do my best to ignore my head. ***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/04/distracted.html

Look at me now, I've got all of my limbs
I've got a thin physique, cause I'm kinda slim
I've glasses to correct my slighted eyesight
Where I live is neither too dark or too bright
I've a house to shelter in in bad weather
My parents are in love and still together
They cared for me when I was feelin' poorly
Saved money for the life that I 'ad before me
I've had a fondness for runnin' an' exercise
I'm surrounded by folk who're kind an' wise
I've never been tempted in starting to drink
I've always been allowed to create and think
I've no real addiction, no real vice
When I've struggled I've got great advice
While all the above're part of me
None of 'em define my personality
I've been gifted, in such a big fashion
That I've been allowed to pursue ideas an' passion
I must remain humble, deal with issues patiently
Cause I've been given such privilege in life to be me ***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/04/look-at-me-now.html

You can say things that sound awful smart. I know you can, because you are smart.

But all of us get scared and fearful if someone looks at us too closely.

The issue is, everything we write can sounds dumb

If it's analysed, repeated, turned over and stared at long enough

You'll pour your heart into something

You''ll create meaning you find profound

Yet still, after a long enough time

You'll see your heart crumble from certainty

Honestly, it's no wonder people are scared

Scared of sharing anything they write

We often are when our hearts are on the line

Because, nine times out of ten, we have slaved

We have worked hard, struggled so

Analysed re-analysed our work

Until, eventually, at around the time you've poured more of your life into a piece than you're publicly willing to admit

That's when your work can seem to cease to mean anything at all

Nearly all art is illusion

Creativity comes from a source

As the artist, you alone know the trail

The map will seem so obvious to you

For those wanting to start and share writing

I give you this simple advice:

We all feel like frauds. Some more than others

But we all remember the first time we shared

It's always the hardest. And the scariest.

Even after practice, even after years, poetry still sounds dumb if you look too long.

But art is not for the long time, it is meant for moments.

And the best way to recapture any moment gone

Is to share it.

***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/04/creating-poetry.html

It is not an unheard sadness, for friends to die.
To selfishly leave us stranded down this gravity well
While themselves going on to pursue the next great adventure(tm).
It is uncertain to what extent the departed are aware of the world
What consciousness they retain in their corporal remains
With this certain knowledge of death's uncertainty, here is a claim I can venture:
Funerals aren't held for the dead.
After all,
No corpse has ever said thank you
No cadaver has ever given a final bow
No earthly remains have ever commented wistfully on the excellent selection of words in the final dedication to their lives.
No...
Funerals?
They're for the living.
A chance for those left behind to gather up feelings
Get thought emotion empathy all mashed together
Share with others a show of simple humanity
And honour the one who has left them.
To dress up and look the part of the mourner
To drown in seas of black and tears
To attempt to cement memories of ashes and dust
As though, by wearing the right clothes
By saying the right things
By singing the right songs
And by sharing together in this experience
All can collectively agree the soul is now fully lain to rest.
For the individual:
This is done by acting up your very best
To show, more than anything, that you care
That you would never do anything to disrespect memory
And so we speak in sadness while we dress lovingly in pure darkness
.
.
.
When I die, don't you dare wear black
Don't.
You.
Dare.
While I understand the funeral is for you, and not me,
I must still *insist* on this one thing.
You may play songs I have never listened to
Read from books I have never read
Even bring friends I have never met
For all these I would be open to in life.
But
To dress in a way I actively avoid
To reduce the colour in this world
To indulge in those very clothes
For which sadness smartness and repression are habitual.
No. You don't get that this time.
You don't get the easy way to show you care.
It would not show my memory respect
And I don't think it would feel genuine for anyone there.
When I die, please, please wear rainbows
Drape yourselves in shades and styles of colours and light
For I assure you, it is at this time, more than others
You will feel me trying my best to be there.
I will go, knowing that, just once with certainty
I will have brought a little colour to peoples' lives.
So don't you dare wear black. ***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/03/dont-you-dare.html

Holla, Holla, holla at my vegan boy
This is not a song to berate irritate or annoy
And holla, holla, holla at my vegan girl
At the tenacity in giving this philosophy a whirl
Alright, let's remove any preconceptions for a bit
Life does not come with a morality kit
We all decide now how to make our way
Where to make our home, how to make our pay
One daily decision which we make and repeat
Is to choose the food that we cook and eat
Just heed this warning when choosing your diet and food
Of any strongly aligned societal attitudes
So even though I'm afraid I could never really try it
Let me say I will not go at you for your vegan diet
Be it environmental - less carbon in the atmosphere
Be it ethical and mental - wanting no animalian harm or fear
Be it health or wealth - be it pure fussiness
This leads me to a most important point to address
While there is a joke about vegans being loud and obnoxious
I've never encountered one of these folks while conscious
So holla to those who live in a different fashion
Who persue what they do with tenacity and passion
But no holla or shout out to those who bully on repeat
There's really nothing special about eating meat ***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/03/vegan-holla.html

The preacher he screaches at the tops of his tobacco stained lung

"Beware the end of days, whether you are old or young

I'm not sure if you have heard my words before

But we are all dying and the Earth's at war!

Beware the plagues, beware the frogs and especially the locusts

Be aware of this sage, take logs and don't lose your focus

We walk on a knife's edge, about to fall into a chasm

I Talk truth of life and you people bawl twitch and spasm

Can you not see the signs, have you never listened to the news?

This planet is dyin', glisten the truth of our abuse

There's new pestilence, diseases, we're either obese or starving

Oh, the ignorance of the young, is this not somewhat startling?"

Stoic, I stared. I did not intend to be cruel.

Wishing not to mock drive, I had to question fuel.

"Dear sir, much older and more experienced than I

I know not the manner by which we shall die

The wisdom of the ancients are not mine to claim

Yet please take heed of what I say all the same

We are living in our most peaceful era of existence

We've far less war, we've almost slain pestilence

Humanity is global now. We are all kin folk.

We can chat over miles, hell we can cry and joke.

If this is truly to be the way we, as humanity, go

There is no more reasonable end that I know."

***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2016/03/end-of-days.html