I still remember
the day ahead
our backyard was the world
the world is my backyard
the world is not our backyard
no one ever died
by the currant shrubs
we buried it
my sister and I
by the apple trees
planted flowers on its grave
and cried for days
a day is but the blink of an eye
far from a daily privilege
Some time ago I put up this collection of poetry and flash fiction on Wattpad, to try out the platform. I’ve now come to what feels a lot like a conclusion that it wasn’t the right place for it, or indeed me. I’ll leave it up there, but to put it to rest I’ve now also made an extended version of it available as a free ebook through Smashwords.
It’s about the millennial experience of growing up in this world of ours, of trying to find your place and that feeling of wanting to stay in the moment while at the same time being in a rush to get on with the rest of your life.
Some pieces in it have already been featured here on my blog, some first saw the light of day on Wattpad and some are unique to the now available ebook version.
Get it here through Smashwords, or, if you neither have nor feel like creating an account, send me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org, tell me which format you would like it in, and I’ll send it to you.
Or, if you for some reason would rather like to do that, you can still find it here on Wattpad.
I’ve started publishing a collection of poetry and flash fiction on Wattpad. It’s called An old Jigsaw and revolves around the millennial experience of growing up in this world of ours. Some of the pieces have previously been featured here on my blog while some are brand new. If you have a Wattpad-account you can read it here.
We never died
to make for
our whole lives.
Supposed to be teenagers
even born yet
we don’t surrender soon
we might not
He was taught as a child to respect grown ups.
Grown ups, they said,
are real people, with real problems,
who do real things for real reasons.
Grown ups are professionals.
He thought grown ups were people with a purpose
and they all seemed to move in specific directions
or not at all.
Wait until you get out into the real world, kid.
And he did see.
He saw that grown ups haven’t got a clue what they’re doing,
making it up as they go along.
He saw that grown ups take comfort in repeating the same old
basic learned behavior, over and over,
like some broken down old farm horse.
He saw that grown ups have uninformed opinions
that they defend with their lives
and carry to their graves.
But more than anything he saw
that grown ups have forgotten how to be
and that all of their important purposes stop short
at merely doing things.
One night he built a fortress under his bed
and cried himself to sleep
with the realest of tears.