Scott Langston

Authoring Adventures

Author: scottlangston (page 2 of 7)

I can’t

I can’t get the chord right
There’s a break in the tune
It’s a digital fight
I should try the bassoon

There’s a buzz in the strum
It must be this guitar
A blister on my thumb
I’m no rock ’n’ roll star


Praise me
Praise indeed
Indeed I would
Indeed I could
Could be stronger
Could be better
Better at being
Better than this
This trembling thing
This spirit
Spirit faltering
Faltering fast
Falter at last
Last ditch effort
Last reprieve
Reprieve this time
Reprieve is mine
Mine to bear
Mine to give
Give enough hope
Give enough rope
Rope to hang
Rope to bind
Bind these ideals
Bind these wounds
Wounds weeping
Wounds healing
Healing the pain
Healing again
Again the abyss
Again remiss
Remiss of duty
Remiss in this
This monumental effort
This moment
Moment of doubt
Moment of decision
Decision to move
Decision to prove
Prove I’m alive
Prove I’m able
Able to rise up
Able to be worthy
Worthy of acclaim
Worthy of applause
Applause as praise
Applause for me

I object

I object, I really do
It’s really very basic
This farcical bally-ho
A universal Lasik

Might just bring us happiness
This path we’re on to reject
And let us now reassess
This mess, to which I object


So they asked, 'What's love got to do with it?'
And I smiled as I thought of my reply
Love, of course, is where all our answers sit
Even if, most often, we don't know why

Romantic love, the eros, takes control
It's a selfish, desperate need-me love
A piece of me to justify, inscroll
Your life fitting mine like perfection's glove

We can take solace in the refuge of
Family love, the storge of Ancient Greek
Or hold on tight to phileo, thereof
The heart of friendship, when life seems less bleak

But agapé is the crowning glory
Love unconditional, tell your story


Don’t fob me off with your toxic con
Soft Brexit is an oxymoron

We grin and lay down our hearts-filled flush
Then see the game is blackjack, and blush

Well now, there’s the rub
The price for talking politics with some guy in a pub

Waiting for this moment to pass
For someone to rescue us from this morass


Playthings this Christmas

Christmas used to be so simple

A stroll though the supermarket

Of plastic race tracks and

Pink wooden ovens

Of lego blocks

And lego friends

and lego Star Wars

and lego Potter

Now it’s getting more complex

With v-bucks and

iTunes credit

and travel and lessons

and a million hopes and dreams.

I’m less and less convinced

That I can pull off the Santa thing

This year.


Been there

Done that

Broken beyond repair

Broken beyond desire

And then, not.


Like Kintsugi

I’m more beautiful

And stronger

At the broken places.

Clarity Pyramid


Never gave it a thought
Did what I knew I ought
Stepped up, cried out ‘This is wrong!’

“The right thing, not the easy thing”


I found the form here, on Shadow Poetry


Anti-common sense
Anti-Middle Ages
Anti-this shit

Hungry for the end

The lazy conflation of want and need
Consumerism’s ever-open maw
The thoughtless idolisation of greed
Self-sacrifice on the alter of more
Our bellies full with abligurition
Starvation remains for too many poor
It’s lack of food, lack of nutrition
Failure to meet a basic human need
Hunger for stuff will destroy us indeed

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