tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68783834398500297072024-02-20T10:56:06.551+00:00Life UnpluggedLeanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-75106697499768586702023-08-25T12:56:00.003+01:002023-08-25T12:56:53.549+01:00Critically Endangered<p>I tiptoe over the obvious,<br />with only giant elephant feet<br />to get me to the other side.<br />Deafeningly loud<br />to everyone else except for me.<br />I stop to bathe in the mud.<br />Thick, chocolatey goo.<br />Refreshingly messy.<br />Paired with disapproval.<br />Onwards and upwards.<br />I get lost in the forest,<br />now the savannah.<br />I make friends with the<br />little birds on my skin.<br />They speak to me.<br />Ask me to fly.<br />I’ve done this before.<br />I know I can do it.<br />Now people wonder<br />why I’m critically endangered.</p>Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-87594434565955433872023-08-24T20:37:00.000+01:002023-08-24T20:37:45.129+01:00I don't miss the city<p>I don't miss<br />the neon-light-decorated<br />high-rise buildings.<br />The polluted noise<br />buried deep underground.<br />The vastness of strangeness<br />turned into a one-of-a-kind<br />work of art.<br /><br />I don't miss<br />the soothing loneliness<br />of crowded streets<br />and blurred faces.<br />The empowering freedom<br />of wandering headphones<br />and acoustic guitars<br />playing to no one and everyone.<br />The slightly-too-tipsy nights<br />questioning our existence.<br /><br />I don't miss any of it.<br /><br />I don't miss<br />the skyline from the heath.<br />New lovers kissing<br />with an immediate sense of urgency.<br />Old ones holding hands<br />comforted by the promise of forever.<br /><br />I don't miss<br />us, the way we were,<br />lugging crates of dreams<br />to every flat we moved into<br />like our lives depended on it<br />and the universe relied on us<br />to get it right.<br /><br />I don't miss any of it.<br /><br />I don't miss<br />all the words I used to write<br />or the poetry I used to read<br />or the love I used to give.<br /><br />I really don't.</p>Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-63485682316188333132022-09-09T11:00:00.002+01:002022-09-29T12:30:27.549+01:00More<p>We're on our way to L.A. You're driving at 70 mph, humming to Red Hot Chili Peppers' Californication; apt considering where we are. I'm sitting here, on the wrong side, trying to spot the last seven number plates; almost impossible considering how fast they go. I'm sitting here, on the right side, remembering it all.<br /><br />Us, running at the airport in Dublin, moments from missing our connecting flight. The woman on the first flight reassuring everyone that He is on our side, oblivious to the fact that He is probably not heading to San Francisco. Lindy hopping at Golden Gate Park. The vintage arcade at Fisherman's Wharf. The orange bridge against the blue backdrop. The sealions on Pier 39.<br /><br />Swimming in our underwear in the Merced River with country music in the background. Woodpeckers. El Capitan, which that guy climbed free solo, and the towering view from Mirror Lake. You, hopefully calling for bears. And hummingbirds.<br /><br />The breathtaking sunset at Moro Rock. A little boy's dreams coming true in front of the largest tree on Earth. Blackjack and Texas hold 'em on the bed in our little cabin in case it is of use later (it wasn't). Life on Mars and a half-cooked egg on the bonnet of our car.<br /><br />Gambling all of $5 in Sin City. Off-track at Zion. Feeding you fruit whilst driving. The curves of Antelope Canyon. The bend of Horseshoe. Yet another stunning sunset at Yaki Point. The quirkiness of Route 66. The vibrant Santa Monica Pier and the flashingly spontaneous moment above the city of dreams.<br /><br />We drove over 2000 miles and I sit here longing for more; more miles, more days like these with you. I sit here, on the right side, remembering it all.<br /><br />But what I remember most is us lying on that bench in the soothing darkness of the desert. Under the Milky Way and a sky studded with more stars than we've ever seen. I remember the gentle, warm breeze and then the stillness of you asking me for more; more miles, more nights like these, forever.<br /><br />"Yes, yes, of course I will."</p>Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-87530875757364443052022-04-19T11:00:00.001+01:002022-09-29T12:26:38.324+01:00Now, We Live<p>Two years ago,<br />the world stood still<br />in a slumber<br />and all we wanted<br />was to live.<br /><br />Last night, we sat cross-legged on<br />the cobblestones of the Grand Place,<br />with the majestically lit buildings<br />towering over us,<br />people scurrying to and fro,<br />phones up, eyes down.<br /><br />Time stood still, again.<br />Slightly different this time.<br />You put your head on my shoulders,<br />out of habit more than anything else.<br /><br />And in that moment,<br />as infinitesimally small<br />as it might have been,<br />I knew<br />that we will be doing this<br />for the rest of our lives.<br /><br />~<br /><br />Two years ago,<br />the world stood still.<br />Now, we live.</p>Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-47925399391317745472021-11-13T19:15:00.000+00:002021-11-13T19:15:08.474+00:00Zingara"Zingara" in Italian means gypsy.<div><div>A nomad without a place to call home.</div><div><div>On a one-way flight from Malta to London.</div><div><br /></div><div>That was 10 years ago.<div>10 years of rented accommodations,</div><div>including that shabby one in the heart of Camden.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of strangers who stayed strangers.</div><div>Of one stranger who became more.</div></div><div>More than more. Morer.</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>We lost it all to a global pandemic.</div><div>The freedom, the laughter, parts of us.</div><div>Chunks, lumps, pieces of who we once were.</div><div><br /></div><div>Away from the city all gypsies flock to,</div><div>the crowds buffering the loneliness,</div><div>neon lights dissipating the obvious.</div><div><br /></div><div>We need a home, it's time</div><div>to paint the walls</div><div>to rediscover</div><div><br /></div><div>Something else entirely.</div><div>It's called growing up, apparently.</div><div>Peter Pan, high up in the clouds, smiles.</div><div><br /></div><div>Can we say we finally made it?</div><div>Ceiling, doors, floors, echoing</div><div>memories of the future.</div><div><br /></div><div>A thought on the train -</div><div>Am I no longer a "zingara"</div><div>even if I'm still a little bit lost?</div><div><br /></div><div>Do these four walls define us, or</div><div>did we just find enough chunks and pieces</div><div>to rebuild a version of who we once were?</div><div><br /></div><div>Free.</div><div>Laughing.</div><div>Mended.</div>Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-37167236590812267932020-12-30T23:33:00.000+00:002020-12-30T23:33:05.253+00:00The Could've Been Alphabet of 2020<p style="text-align: justify;">This year could have been so much more.<br /><br />It could have been the year we:<br /><br /><b>A</b>cquired a home<br />in the middle of a<br />quaint English town<br /><br /><b>B</b>aked cakes and cookies<br />(chocolate and lemon, ofc)<br />in the kitchen of said house<br /><br /><b>C</b>elebrated anniversaries,<br />birthdays and Christmas,<br />in said house<br /><br /><b>D</b>anced under<br />our made-up version<br />of the northern lights<br /><br /><b>E</b>aten a Sunday roast with gravy<br />every third day of the week<br />just because we can<br /><br /><b>F</b>ought over which<br />of our travel photos<br />to put up on the walls<br /><br /><b>G</b>otten married<br />like people our age<br />are "supposed to do"<br /><br /><b>H</b>arvested sunflowers;<br />probably too early<br />knowing us<br /><br /><b>I</b>magined what our lives<br />could/should look like<br />5 years from now<br /><br /><b>J</b>ammed to a folk rock band<br />in a ram-packed arena<br />in London's Zone 2<br /><br /><b>K</b>issed as the crowd<br />roared and yearned<br />for an encore<br /><br /><b>L</b>aughed out loud because<br />we may have consumed<br />too much alcohol<br /><br /><b>M</b>ade love<br />in each and every room<br />of aforementioned house<br /><br /><b>N</b>icknamed our neighbour's dog<br />"Casanova" for reasons only<br />you and I are aware of<br /><br /><b>O</b>vercooked roast potatoes<br />then blamed our new oven<br />for its inexperience<br /><br /><b>P</b>acked two backpacks;<br />my clothes neatly folded<br />yours shoved in<br /><br /><b>Q</b>ueued at airport security;<br />one hand holding a passport<br />the other entwined in yours<br /><br /><b>R</b>ested our heads for the night<br />at a cheap motel with<br />a vintage neon sign<br /><br /><b>S</b>topped for savoury pancakes<br />at a refurbished gas station<br />on Route 66<br /><br /><b>T</b>ook a photo of us for our walls<br />in front of General Sherman<br />84m above ground<br /><span style="text-align: start;"><br /><b>U</b></span><span style="text-align: start;">ndressed then skinny-dipped<br />in the fresh waters of Lake Tahoe<br /></span><span style="text-align: start;">with the sun setting in the background<br /><br /><b>V</b>owed to never become too afraid,<br />too despondent, too old, too tired,<br />to live<br /><br /><b>W</b>hispered "You see, I told you so"<br />as Marley's <i>Three Little Birds</i><br />played on the car radio<br /></span><span style="text-align: start;"><br />We could have also done<br /><b>X</b>, <b>Y</b> and <b>Z</b><br />but we've done none of that.<br /><br />We could have been so much more.<br /></span><span style="text-align: start;">You, me, all of us. So much more.<br />We could've been infinite.<br /></span></p><p></p><p></p>Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-40317139937913091002020-11-30T11:00:00.001+00:002022-09-29T12:08:36.448+01:00I Will Still<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>"What one thing will you do for her when you're old and wrinkly?" someone asked.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>"I will still make her laugh", you replied.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I woke up this morning reminiscing about our future - where we'll be, what we'll be doing, what we'll look like. You see, in my dream last night, I saw us sitting by a log fire outside our camper van. You were reading a novel - the one that's now less of a dystopia and more of a non-fiction (based on a true story) story. You could tell I was gazing at you and looked up, smile first.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You still looked like you, mostly. Same cheeks, same grin. Same piercing eyes but with a few more wrinkles. Your trimmed beard, no longer a kaleidoscope of black, blonde and ginger shades, but grey, silver grey. In an attempt to fit in, your sideburns also changed colour. In an attempt to comfort me, they retained their length.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I took your hand in mine, knowing full well that in mine is where your hand belonged. One pale, one tanned, remember? I never did grow my nails out. I never did buy that dream catcher - I didn't need it. You picked up a flower from the ground and put it in my hair. White petals with a yellow centre. Also our daughter.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Under a star-kissed sky we talked and talked all night. We have always been good at that - talking, questioning life, the universe and everything in between. "We've had a beautiful life together, haven't we?" you whispered in my ears even though there was nobody else around. "What do you say, do you want to go round again?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I don't remember how the dream ended but I woke up laughing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You must have said something funny.</div>
Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-6383198317682122152020-10-29T14:08:00.005+00:002020-10-29T14:10:10.971+00:00The Way You Touch Me<p style="text-align: justify;">I love the way you touch me -<br /><br />Slowly,<br />as if we have<br />all the time in the world.<br /><br />At room temperature,<br />like Goldilocks's porridge;<br />not too cold<br />not too hot<br />just right.<br /><br />At the right time (5:15PM),<br />a palindrome spelled<br />backwards<br />forwards,<br />creating little circles<br />with your thumb.<br /><br />Geometrically,<br />tracing Fibonacci sequences<br />on my skin.<br /><br />Curved,<br />like you're the spirit level,<br />I'm the air bubble, and<br />we have both reached<br />our highest point.<br /><br />A constellation of bodies;<br />Yours, mine.<br />A symphony of silence;<br />Together in chorus.<br />A beautiful nuclear<br />Explosion.<br /><br />I love the way you touch me -<br /><br />Urgently,<br />almost as if<br />the world's about to end.</p><p></p>Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-12191955693273600022020-09-30T11:00:00.000+01:002022-09-29T12:06:47.944+01:00Marmite Lips<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white;">
It took me a quarter of a century to find you, to find this, us. Us, you, me, and our shabby apartment in the heart of Camden. You, me, and our story, adorned by unassuming moments that happened before we even knew anything was happening. You, and me, but mostly you, and your way of looking at the world, almost as if it's a second hand dystopian novel - one that I would have never read if it weren't for you. You, and the way your face lights up when you see me walk across the quad, maybe because it's the best part of your day, or maybe because you think the man in the ice cream van, on our way to Regent's Park, is my best friend who has reserved a 99 Flake only for you. You, and your marmite lips.<br />
<br />
Spread across mine, warm as toast. Salty, with just the right amount of sweetness. You, and cricket, and our bus ride home, and the forty minutes it took you to explain half of the rules. How he was out for a duck - not a goose or a swan but a duck. How the ball would have struck the wicket if his leg wasn't where his leg should be. Like a parallel universe, but for legs, and us, us back then. Back when all I really cared about were the dimples complementing your smile like base pairs in the human genome. Back when Mondays took on a whole new meaning, and The Coronet with its red velvet seats became my idea of safe haven. Back when white daisies were just flowers and a penny was just a coin.<br />
<br />
You, and your fascination with fossils, and Star Wars, and the air bass guitar - your strumming so authentic that if Dire Straits were to reunite, they would have no problem hiring you instead of Illsley. You, and cookies, and creme eggs, and anything else with chocolate in it. You, and your balderdash, and every other word in the British English dictionary that I have had to google. Gobbledygook. You, on top of the world, and me, and us, this morning, in our shabby apartment in the heart of Camden. You, and me, and the infinite number of words I had to write before I found you, before I found this, us.<br />
<br />
You, and me, meticulously woven to a dream catcher I still haven't bought.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-65809811197489363992020-02-21T21:00:00.000+00:002020-02-21T21:00:04.680+00:00Singularity<div style="text-align: justify;">
What if</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
darkness wasn't the absence of light</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
sadness the lack of happiness</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
death the opposite of life?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What if they exist in the singular,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
and they just are -</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
and the blind man crossing the road</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
with a white stick,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
debating whether to have lunch</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
or a bunch of sleeping pills,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
only to be lowered to the ground</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
a week later</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
is just like you and me?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The you and me</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
who can see the light,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
are happy</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
and alive.</div>
Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-40672788063068430662019-12-30T02:15:00.000+00:002019-12-30T02:16:07.454+00:00Decade<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ten years ago I started a blog. I sat on a moonlit balcony covered in a pink bathrobe, listening to the smooth sound of jazz, writing what was the beginning of Life Unplugged. I was 21 then, living in a world of dreams, a world where reality was nothing but a mere shadow on the wall.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was 21 then, 21 and a hopeless idealist.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It might not feel like it, but a decade is a hell of a long time, and a lot can happen in those ten years. If you're lucky, dreams will come true, either unexpectedly or as a result of sheer hard work. If you're <u>really</u> lucky, those dreams will come for free, without emotional turmoil.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Be careful what you wish for</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
'Cause you just might get it all</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And then some you don't want"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am 31 now, 31 and a wiser idealist, but an idealist all the same.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I use the term "wiser" loosely, because in no way do I feel like I am now an expert at life. Far from it in fact. I just think that ten years was a good enough time to get a grasp of life and who I am as a human being.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, having just made that bold statement, here are ten things I learnt this decade:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>1. Who you are is enough.</b> It takes time to accept yourself as you are, but the sooner you do, the sooner you'll be free to enjoy life.<br />
<br />
<b>2. What you have is enough.</b> You don't have to have everything to be happy. You can find so much joy in the little things.<br />
<br />
<b>3. A relationship should make you a better person.</b> If it doesn't, then you probably shouldn't be in it.<br />
<br />
<b>4. Time is an unnecessary social construct.</b> You don't have to figure it all out yet, trust me. Keep to your local time and no one else's.<br />
<br />
<b>5. Happiness trumps money.</b> If you are torn between a high-paying, soul-crushing job and one that isn't, choose the latter.<br />
<br />
<b>6. Makeup is overrated.</b> It just is.<br />
<br />
<b>7. Smiling is underrated.</b> Try doing it more often.<br />
<br />
<b>8. Guilt is a useless feeling.</b> Store it in a box.<br />
<br />
<b>9. Social media is unhealthy.</b> If in doubt, remember (1) and (2) above.<br />
<br />
<b>10. Ikigai is a Japanese concept that means "a reason for being."</b> It is the reason for which you wake up in the morning.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am 31 now, 31 and a happier idealist.</div>
</div>
Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-71259450872035696002019-09-30T21:10:00.001+01:002019-09-30T21:12:29.196+01:00RacetrackI got a racetrack up in here -<br />
a thousand fast cars in slow motion,<br />
multicoloured, printed in grayscale.<br />
With three laps to go<br />
and one blurred finish line,<br />
they go faster<br />
and faster<br />
and faster<br />
and faster<br />
and faster.<br />
Stop.<br />
Just stop.<br />
<br />
But<br />
stopping means<br />
crashing and burning<br />
and waiting.<br />
Until the silence becomes the noise,<br />
and the noise becomes you,<br />
and you become the driver in one of those cars,<br />
and you're trying really hard to go slower<br />
and slower<br />
and slower<br />
and slower<br />
and slower.<br />
Stop.<br />
Just stop.<br />
<br />
You see, I got a racetrack up in here.<br />
One problem: it never stops.Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-17899301131794728992019-09-09T20:15:00.002+01:002019-09-09T20:15:54.891+01:0029 Reasons Why (I Love You)<div style="text-align: justify;">
29 is an odd number. I don't like odd numbers. But I like you.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1. Your smile.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2. Your smile when you win at a board game.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
3. The way your eyes disappear when you smile.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
4. The way your eyes light up when you buy, eat, or even think about chocolate.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
5. Your eyes on a sunny day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
6. Because you never complain about the food I cook, no matter how bad it is.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
7. You understand how and why I am who I am.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
8. The bridge connecting your chest and abdomen. Like two lovers who cannot stand to be apart from each other.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
9. The warmth of your body against mine at night.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
10. The smell on the back of your neck. It calms me down.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
11. Because you squeeze fresh oranges for me everyday.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
12. The way you hold my hand when there's turbulence on a flight.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
13. The way you fall asleep every night reading a book.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
14. Your sense of humour.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
15. Your sense of direction.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
16. Watching you trying to multitask.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
17. Your whistling when you're washing up.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
18. The way you walk, hands in your pockets, like time doesn't exist and so there's no rush.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
19. "Bloody hell." Because you're too good to use the word fuck.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
20. The way you put everybody else's happiness before your own.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
21. The hope of one day seeing you barefoot on the beach with your trousers rolled up.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
22. How excited you get when your football team wins a match.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
23. The way you dance. Like a sloth who's suddenly decided to spice up his life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
24. The way you always seem to find pennies on the ground.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
25. Your appreciation for the bass guitar.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
26. Your love of nature.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
27. Because I feel safe when I'm with you.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
28. Because we want the same things in life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
29. Because I can see myself growing old with you.</div>
Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-69428274819610998712019-05-16T21:00:00.001+01:002019-05-16T21:00:52.595+01:00The Edge of our Warmth<div style="text-align: justify;">
I remember us, five years ago, in our shabby apartment in the heart of Camden. High (not on weed; "would you like some marijuana?" asked a stranger by the canal) on life. Tracy on a loop in the background by the red curtains from Argos. If they looked cheap, it's because they were. If I looked scared, it's because I was. Baby can I hold you?<br />
<br />
I remember waking up on your chest halfway through Star Wars. How can a moment be both tiresome and beautiful at the same time? Like when you beat me at board games, or when you brush your teeth in every other room except for the bathroom. It's annoying, you're an idiot, but you smile and I surrender.<br />
<br />
I remember, as a teenager, having a crush on Clark Kent; he was all I knew, so you had a lot to live up to. But Clark never made me laugh. You, on the other hand, have made it your life's mission. You taught me to live big in the little moments. Growing sunflowers. Jumping frantically up and down. Stepping in fox poo on your birthday. Surprise!<br />
<br />
I remember, even though I'm forgetful. That Ferris wheel in Osaka. Holding onto your waist on a motorbike in the Philippines. You tell me it's a moped. I tell you a motorbike sounds sexier. You say I'm weird. I think we both are. <strike>I think</strike> I love you.<br />
<br />
I remember years that haven't happened yet. You say another 99. I say that's way too optimistic, we'll see. In the meantime, I'm going to sit on the edge of our warmth, waiting for the future to roll up its sleeves.</div>
Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-26224138045666075232019-02-13T20:50:00.000+00:002019-02-13T20:50:08.157+00:00The Edge<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's dark, and I hit a wall.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Reverse, reverse. B'careful. The edge!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I fall. I trip and I tumble,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
to a place where gravity knows my name.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Quick, quick. A selfie. Freeze frame.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The leprechauns laugh at the hilarity of the situation,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
echoing loudly across the entire nation.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Ma'am, you're not supposed to be here", they say.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"This side of the island is frequently..."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes? "It's generally..."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes? "It's often rather..."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What? "Grey."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Only the lost souls come visit,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
and you're not lost, are you?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bloody hell, there's a unicorn coming through!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The darkness fades,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
but only for a second.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'll be back soon, I reckon.</div>
Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-81099501934479496902018-10-18T12:30:00.000+01:002018-10-18T12:31:56.954+01:00Evolution<div style="text-align: justify;">
I sometimes question our existence:<br />
why?<br />
where?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Children crying, dying in Africa. How is that fair?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Teenagers, an entire life ahead of them,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
slitting their wrists,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
rope around their necks.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Why don't we care?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Old man disgusted at a gay couple kissing,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
shakes his head,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
goes to church.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Why doesn't God listen to my prayer?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Somehow forgets the thousands of men</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
he killed during the war. He exits,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
slams shut the door.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We are more ashamed to talk about sex</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
than we are about war.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Woman with a bruised cheek,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
lying on the bedroom floor.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"He said it'll be fun,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
until I became his whore."<br />
<br />
President talking about a wall<br />
to stop people coming in.<br />
Anyone else remember the Nazi<br />
and all the Jews they killed in Berlin?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I sometimes wonder: isn't evolution supposed to make us better?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Where is God, and how do I send him a letter?</div>
Leanne Grechhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00052372624396818961noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-49479567344794450182018-08-28T16:15:00.000+01:002018-10-09T17:09:36.746+01:00Sunflowers<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's beautiful, watching you</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
undress beneath the English sun.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Come here, come out. We're not done.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Higher, upwards, to the heavens above -</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
all in the name of true love.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's poetic, staring at you</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
grow and not knowing why.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Earthbound, wishing you could fly.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Insignificant but with meaning.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I know you're tired, you're leaning.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We wait and wait for you to rise,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
as one lives and another one dies.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hide and go seek</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
in the middle of the night.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It has to be perfect. Just right.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then you yawn your way out,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
incredible, considering the drought.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Life makes sense, sometime,<br />
if you walk backwards<br />
on a steep steep climb.<br />
<br />
Often, though, it doesn't;<br />
curveballs are thrown<br />
plans are blown<br />
a dog just lost his bone<br />
and he's all alone.<br />
Millennials on their phone<br />
in a tea-shop eating a scone<br />
wait, is that a drone?<br />
Stitches are sown<br />
the Queen is still on her throne<br />
illegal gases in the ozone<br />
and we're all so desperate to atone.<br />
<br />
Instead, we should be planting<br />
sunflowers in our back garden.<br />
I beg your pardon.<br />
Instead, we should be falling<br />
in happiness, deeper and deeper.<br />
The good things in life are cheaper.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-53979226961785261592018-02-14T21:30:00.001+00:002018-10-09T17:09:52.003+01:00Comma,<div style="text-align: justify;">
Chaos is King's Cross's middle name.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I wander without direction or an aim.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No one smiles, except the little child.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everyone else has been exiled.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So they mutter about their rich lives,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
as a train leaves and another arrives.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I wonder what gives them pleasure</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
when not basking in grey weather.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I lose myself until I see you,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
and then, a breakthrough:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
we are not them, they are not us.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Us, we'd rather get the bus.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Us is board games on the floor,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
in Porto Koufo by the seashore.<br />
On the dock of the bay like Redding,<br />
bad dancing at a Greek wedding.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
In the middle of Gerrard Street,<br />
I heard your heart beat.<br />
Hey there, Mr. Tambourine man,<br />
come live with me in a caravan.<br />
<br />
Here, until the sand runs out.<br />
In perpetuity, with or without<br />
a sky studded with fullstops<br />
and you, forever my comma</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-39985750824832899922018-02-08T10:15:00.001+00:002018-10-09T17:10:06.489+01:00Somersault<div style="text-align: justify;">
You asked me why I don't write anymore:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I lost the spare key to heaven's door.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's been barricaded, locked, for years;</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
nope, can't open it, not even with tears.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I know where it is but I just can't get it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's buried deep down a grit-filled pit,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
once crowded with innocence and hope,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
mocked for its resemblance to a tightrope,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
except there is a pole with which to balance,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
but where's the fun in that, where's the challenge?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I lost it when I was told to go swimming with the sharks.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"But I'm a little guppy", I said. "No, or you'll lose marks!",</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
as if life was this big tournament, only I was not aware.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You have to blow the whistle to scare away the bear.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But then I somersault back into existence,<br />
unfamiliar with the path of least resistance.<br />
I look at you and suddenly everything's alright.<br />
I can go to sleep now. Good night.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-36239483387726809282017-08-31T21:00:00.001+01:002018-10-09T17:10:22.493+01:00Now What?<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I sit here looking at everything; nothing. I heard you were looking for something. Was it your soul, your inspiration, your heart? What is it? Tell me. I lost mine a few years ago, in between Gower Street and Grafton Way, perpendicular to a body covered in white sheets. I lost mine outside where we used to live, close to Chalk Farm, when a police officer's description of murder by domestic violence resembled a song lip-synced by Taylor Swift. I lost mine every single time I passed a homeless congregation sleeping outside Dreams (The Bed Specialist). I lost it when I finally understood the tragic irony.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Go ahead, do tell. What did you lose? Was it your sanity? I lost mine too, nay misplaced. If I bothered looking, I'll probably find it hidden amidst the lies: this is rather interesting; yes, yes, but of course! Now, the truth is, what I'm really thinking is: butterflies and </span>leprechauns<span style="font-family: inherit;">, what does it all mean? Oh wait a second, I smell gasoline! And before I realise what's going on, I'm on fire, I'm burning, and there's no way out. I made this bed (unlike the homeless man on </span>Tottenham Court Road). I made it, I lied in it, and while I did, I lost who I was. Poof. Gone. Like Harry Houdini's elephant. That's alright, <span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm sure he'll turn up eventually.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So the question now is: how do I get it all back? Do I put posters up on trees? If I do, what should they say? "Lost Soul: Please Return To Owner."? It's a long shot, too many months have passed, but I have to give it a go.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have to.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-27592002030647422812017-05-24T19:15:00.002+01:002018-10-09T17:10:35.051+01:00Sunlit<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'll never get used to waking up next to you,<br />
clothes on the carpet; your jeans, a faded blue.<br />
Your smile, piercing through the still of the night,<br />
and I'm sitting here, trying my best not to write.<br />
<br />
But then it all comes back, triggering déjà vu;<br />
the minute I met you, the moment I knew.<br />
Your arms wrapped around me as if I'm home;<br />
no longer on a stroll, a wander. I used to roam.<br />
<br />
I put my hand on your chest so I can feel it;<br />
that humble heart glowing in the dark (sunlit).<br />
It doesn't speak but I can hear it talking,<br />
or maybe it's just me, maybe I'm sleepwalking.<br />
<br />
Softly we chat, serenaded by the projected stars.<br />
For three years, we have been making memories: ours.<br />
I close my eyes, and you don't think I see it, but I do.<br />
You and me together for another ninety; they flew!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-67574440363713998032017-02-10T17:00:00.001+00:002018-10-09T17:10:50.661+01:00New Home<div style="text-align: justify;">
It took us five months - one, two, three, four, five;<br />
two wild bees buzzing without their sugar hi-gh/ve.<br />
Us two and the boxes and suitcases gathering dust;<br />
we hear you, we get it, settling down is <i>not</i> a must.<br />
<br />
What is, is riding a jeepney in Manila and its mundane,<br />
on the thirty seventh floor after a fourteen hour plane.<br />
What is, is you and me on our own private sandy beach,<br />
driving through El Nido on a motorbike, a helmet each.<br />
<br />
You and I, we tend to live like there's no tomorrow,<br />
like the minutes and the hours are not for borrow.<br />
Peter and Wendy in fictional, magical Neverland,<br />
sucked into a vortex, up to the knees in quicksand.<br />
<br />
You and I, we don't live like everybody else and that's alright by me;<br />
life does not come with rules - we are, we are, we are free.<br />
I love you, in the end that's all that matters.<br />
Grab my hand, let's go home together.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-28023445277489458402016-11-02T19:00:00.000+00:002018-10-09T17:11:07.045+01:00I Knew Before You LeftI knew before you left that I would need you,<br />
<div>
the boyish smile that can save a world from war,</div>
<div>
a tree from deforestation, a species from extinction,</div>
<div>
a heart from forgetting to breathe. Mine.</div>
<div>
Yours beats through a shirt from afar.</div>
<div>
Dear Pirate, are you using a compass</div>
<div>
or the North Star?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I knew before you left that I would crave you,</div>
<div>
the marmite lips that I never wrote about,</div>
<div>
on a road trip in between the mountains,</div>
<div>
and the bushes on the forest floor. Mine.</div>
<div>
Yours elevated in midair, to catch a bear.</div>
<div>
Dear Pirate, are you still here,</div>
<div>
and if not, where?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I knew before you left that I would miss you,</div>
<div>
the sirens in the background calling our names,</div>
<div>
and you, with me, ignoring the hustle of city life,</div>
<div>
because we're here, right now, it's time. Ours.</div>
<div>
Yours and mine, perpetually lost in each other.</div>
<div>
Dear Pirate, I know you're gone,</div>
<div>
but there is a lot left here to discover.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-47008361078480223072016-07-06T16:35:00.002+01:002018-10-09T17:11:28.395+01:00The Kite<div style="text-align: justify;">
I look at that kite in Hampstead Heath,<br />
the green green grass beneath, and I wa/onder.<br />
Is it flying on a tether colouring souls<br />
in this bad weather? Where would it rather be<br />
if it could soar high and be free? "Tomorrow",<br />
she tells me, "I'll cut myself loose, whatever<br />
happens, there's no excuse. Up on a mountain,<br />
down by the lake, sipping coladas<br />
and a milk shake. I'll meet a wanderer,<br />
he'll take me away. I'll be his muse,<br />
and he'll call me Mae. Together, we'll sail<br />
down to the south, getting lost<br />
through word of mouth. Yes, yes, yes,<br />
that's what I'll do, I'll start over<br />
in a new land, Australia, even Thailand.<br />
I'll do it tomorrow, someday,<br />
maybe on Monday or on Thursday."<br />
<br />
"I'll do it, I'll do it, I know I will!",<br />
she shouted, disappearing behind<br />
the hill.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6878383439850029707.post-40980350789266470962016-04-30T20:45:00.001+01:002018-10-09T17:11:43.774+01:00Let's Pretend<div style="text-align: justify;">
let's pretend we all know what we're doing:<br />
forget the umbrella, in England it does not rain.<br />
the Holocaust was not even remotely real, wait..<br />
technology doesn't murder the cells in the brain?<br />
<br />
the war in Syria is synonymous to making love.<br />
the world is flat, and Aristotle was wrong.<br />
global warming is a myth, it's factually impossible.<br />
of course there's no pollution in China Hong Kong.<br />
<br />
racism is a virtue, and white is better than black.<br />
everybody's a saint and there's no such thing as porn.<br />
no one smokes weed, science isn't a business,<br />
Mary didn't have sex, and that's how Jesus was born.<br />
<br />
let's pretend we're not all crazy one way or another:<br />
fat is ugly, and zero is a beautiful, perfect size.<br />
the sun still revolves around the earth, and<br />
growing old means growing wise.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com