Wednesday, January 28, 2009

personal training

his shadow is cast long by the early morning sun
already sweating though the day has just begun
step after step his tired feet pound the ground
a lone weekend warrior, with his boot camp all around

she wears her oldest clothes and yet she beams a smile
she's glad that she's back and has kept it up a while
aware the hardest part was just getting through that door
a single dancer, moves with her class across the floor

they shake off sleep and the morning chill
time slowly awakening and honing their skill
they pass to one another with a comfort borne of years
two teams of individuals, in a field full of peers

the air rushes from his lungs as he heaves at the weight
he repeats one more time though his need to rest is great
all around him there are others who sweat, moan and groan,
sharing an addiction, and yet each a junkie on his own.

their battle is a mental one, the results physical
but to call them vain or proud would just be cynical
though they fight in isolation, so too they alone achieve their goal
sound of body sound of mind and at peace with their soul.

Written Jan 2009, while running along the beach, started wondering about the individual nature of exercise, but how the individualism is mental and not necessarily physical.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Beauty, The Beast

I woke up this morning, confidence poor
couldn't bring myself to walk out the door
one look in the mirror confirms my fears
use all of my strength to hold back the tears

a discarded magazine lies crumpled and haunting
the impossible beauty of the model still taunting
perfect features and a chiseled physique
same age as me but at their physical peak

their skin doesn't blemish their tan doesn't fade
effortless glamour, heavenly-made

but the clothes never wear as well on my frame,
and I can never get my hair to fall quite the same
my body has curves where the muscles should be
and is that a zit I see winking back at me?

powerless, I guess I'll just grin and bare
apathetic on the surface, even if below I care
a deep breath and with my head held high
I step out into the world, wanting to die

"Mr Pitt, you look great, smile over here"
the camera captures my image, but not my fear
I stare at the crowd, jealously
if only they would trade places with me....

Written Jan 2009 for a gorgeous friend of mine who fails to see what everyone else can.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

The One Year Miracle

The people clap,
The people cheer,
Oh my God,
It’s been a year!

I’ve had my doubts,
You have too,
I had my doubts
After a day or two.

Twelve months on,
And here we are,
Who would have thought?
That we’d come so far.

People have doubted us,
That much is true,
No one thought we’d last,
Even a month or two.

But here we are today,
And all though insults have been hurled,
I wouldn’t swap you, or this,
For the world.

Written in 2003 to celebrate a year with the same girl as previous. Young, in love, and celebrating what seemed a minor miracle.

To You, From Me

The crimson maiden’s voice rings true,
Her epic crisis is anything but new:
“See my eyes, feel the fear,
Tell me what I need to hear,”
Her voice is soft but her eyes betray,
The need in her voice, her eternal dismay

Once again the duty falls on the knight,
To slay the beast, and to the princess’ delight,
Run the gauntlet adorned with none but a rose,
Defeat Caesar’s army; vanquish all his foes,
He must test every muscle, every sinew, every nerve,
He must be one man in the name of love.

Though battles and dragons pose him no threat,
Ask him bout his true feelings if you want to watch him sweat.
“But who really could?” the knight often wonders,
Express what the heart feels without those awkward blunders,
Convey the desire, the passion, the emotion,
Raging more fiercely than a tempest, than an all-encompassing ocean.

What words could possibly do any justice,
To the feelings that run so rampant between us?
What man would be foolish enough to even try?
Express the love he has for the one for whom he would die?
But alas, dear lord, this is a quest that he must make
To stifle any possible doubts, not for his, but for her, sake.

It surprises me daily that you remain unaware,
of the feelings I have for you, the love that we share.
Lost would I be without your “gentle” touch,
On the edge of a precipice, you’re the rope that I clutch,
Vertically we differ, there’s a sizeable gap, but
Everything always seems so right when you’re on my lap.
You are the one, my rain, wind and fire
You are the one, whom I’ll always desire
You are the one:
M ystically
I rritating,
N aturally my
E verything

Written in 2003 for my first serious girlfriend after continually being asked to "express how I was feeling". I have fought the overwhelming desire to change any of the lines, aiming to keep the poem as originally written.