From Another Time

Poetry three weeks in a row… what the fuck, man?

I know, I know, the sentient Guise has been absent for nearly a month now, instead replaced by a number of poetic short verses. How dare I stay away for so long, taking the easy way out by sharing works that are old and already written.

Construction, Pressure, and Nights for Knights were all works from a time well before now. A time that as much as I’d like to, I don’t really remember much about. It’s not some suppressed memories deal, but more so that I’ve just got a terrible memory. These pieces were from another time, a time when I was enveloped by completely different set of stimuli, challenges, muses, thoughts, feelings, and anxiety.

And only recently did I find these. Once locked away only to be found if I passed, a legacy I thought which was worthwhile sharing in the afterlife, only. But that was fear. Fear that maybe I wasn’t good at this writing thing. It was safer.

Whilst I recognise that it may seem like I’ve been taking the easy way out just to keep on track for this goal of weekly updates (which i guess is partially true, I’m not going to pretend to be some sort of delusional, all-wise, martyr), I’ve realised that sharing this work is important.

Writing was my escape, a coping mechanism to deal with what I felt was an existence of isolation and anxiety. But I can’t sit here today and tell you what I was thinking, what I was specifically dealing with, what had sent me into a particular frame of mind, but my writing can get pretty damn close to it.

So I’ve decided to share with people now, rather than later, and on occasions, I’ll dig up some pieces from another time.

Heck, they may still even be relevant.

 

Guise.

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Pressure 

A moment and a glance or two,

In which way may it be true?

If nature simply specifies,

accordingly,

To recognise and justify.

Decisions and commitments,

Raging intuition,

If nothing more.

Know your path,

Prepare for detours,

Act with sense.

One must measure

The enormity of the journey

If one expects,

One assumes,

And one learns.

While the path,

Relentless,

Consumes.

Take control and grow. 


Guise. 

The Linguist 

His powers are the subtle kind, gifts of literary gold. Expressions splashed in ink across the old papyrus scrolls. 

Predetermined talent rushing through his veins, or skills with which he only gained how and when he trains. 

This superhero’s nemesis goes by writers block, the nasty and obtrusive villain who lives within the man. An everlasting battle for the right to share a mind, but battles are only temporary and fleeting all the time. 

A dedication to himself to fight for what is real, and break what is prescribed for all with letters sitting still. 

End goal unclear, but direction less so, our hero soldiers on, to find the answer to his own unfinished epic song. A sonet here, a theory there and words to fill a cabinet, he will not ever lock his gift, with this in stones, he’s set. 

Guise. 

Mother

Endless, unwavering love, 

Giver of life, 

Feeding from the spring of existence. 

Dreams made capable, 

Power beholding, 

Your grace and love a pillow on the dreary bed of days. 

Worthless words, 

Juxtaposed, 

Your deeds,  too great for words to know. 

My endless love, 

And gratitude, 

To you, sweet nurturer. 

Guise. 

Unicorns 

You can’t cage a unicorn. 

A very wise man once told me, everyone that comes into our lives is a challenge, one with learning to come from it. This stuck with me from that moment, because it rung true with what I had believed about people in my life for a long time. 

It was 7 months ago when I made a decision in my life which was not about money, but about acknowledging that as eager as I was (am), I wasn’t ready for what I wanted to be ready for. I rejected an opportunity to be someone bigger, someone more important. 

At the time I thought I had made the decision to allow myself to grow in a professional sense, I didn’t know that what I was looking for was personal guidance and growth. Demons I had hidden and thought to forget, conversations I refused to have with myself and loved ones. 

It was that decision which led me to find a unicorn. One of those overachieving,over-the-top, good at everything they do, destined for greatness kinds of people. A unicorn. One who with unruly persistence, human understanding and fortitude to bring it to the forefront, helped me find that personal growth I needed. 

But unfortunately, you can’t cage a unicorn. If you meet one, you have to know that they are fleeting, can’t be tied down, always on to the next thing. And for all the good they can do for you,you have to accept that for them, they need to move.

 So thank you. For everything. You’ll always have my gratitude, and my friendship. 
Good luck. 

Guise. 

To the Letter of the Law

I’ve approached many challenges and opportunities in life trying to overcome them the “right way” or according to a formula. 

Go to school, behave in class, and try to get a decent HSC grade. Go to university and keep studying to get a job. Get that job and progress to a higher level. And so on and so forth. 

I’ve spent so long thinking that I am following some sort of formula, living life against this metaphorical yardstick. The strangest realisation in this time has been realising that there is no formula, no right way, and that all these expectations were bullshit which I accepted in my life. 

Now I’ve heard the perfect way to appreciate this matter. That is that 

sometimes you have to go the wrong way in a carpark in order to get a spot. 

Celebrate your uniqueness, enjoy making irrational and emotional decisions, find comfort in the constant challenges that we create for ourselves, and trust that we have no control over how any decision we makes pans out in this existence. 

Guise. 

The First Wall

I think I’ve hit the first wall. 

On the 1st January 2017, I set a resolution. In an effort to train the writing muscle, I decided that I would be posting on a weekly basis. I wanted to achieve something I have never done before, and that was to transition from being an aspiring writer to simply the latter. 

71 days in, the reality of this challenge is starting to set in. 

Maybe it is simply poor preparation this week, or even an inkling of complacency. This week is the first of the year that I’ve felt blank. So what better to write about this week. 

Whilst the challenge feels as though it grows, I believe I can compare it to training cardio. That feeling of hopelessness as the weight of the challenge sets in. Hitting the first wall. 

Feeling like your body is not capable of getting past it. The panic that the feeling will not pass. Fear of suffocation or asphyxiation. 

But then you learn that if you just push past this sensation, this panic and fear, your body finds its second wind. 

So today I’m choosing not to panic. I’ll acknowledge that I’ll hit my second wind, and after that I’ll hit a second wall. But knowing that I just need to push through makes all the difference. 

Guise.