�Control�

When the parties end abruptly
Your hair speckled grey
Losing another weekend to illness and decay
Lonely boredom with feet up on the bedroom wall
Hollywood has fucked up another one of your favourite books
The charts are all messed up and heroin is their only hook
The hunter becomes the hunted and why should a headline suddenly mean everything to them?
Who’s left to speak about the treasured moments
Will you have to learn one of their songs to sing
You’ve tried to, but their lyrics don’t really mean anything
And who’s left to go out with?
You’ve always hated the phone, but now it no longer rings
They’ve all gone and found someone better looking and who dances faster
You’d like to keep up, but the doctors have no answers
Your boss hasn’t got a clue
And your parents don’t even know what time has done to you… 

   
But try not to walk away from people and life
We need to lead at the front with the hidden force of being older and knowing more
Show them all that someone hasn’t lost control
Like the weed trying to breathe through concrete
It tries to grow without sunshine, raindrops or to be admired in endless similar photographs
You know that this is us
And your true friends will still be there somewhere
When these buildings begin to crumble
When the strangers jump before they fall
And every underground in the world explodes
Under pressure we can all begin to unfold
I finally have control knowing that life still has that strength to grow.
 

Reviews

[R J Askew]

This reminds me strongly of the W.B. Yeats line 'the centre cannot hold'. But the centre does hold and those, young or old, depend on it going on holding. Eric, a writer here, has a story about a sailor's knuckle tattoo...HOLD on one hand...FAST...on the other. You are right the parties do end, or at least change, and grey hair does show. But we go on. And if we are wise we mature into a new skin where we feel comfortable with outselves and can, with luck, actually enjoy this strange experience we all find ourselves caught up in. If by being ourselves, we can encourage others along the way, then we are doing well. The first part of your poem puts the case for the prosecution strongly...but I think the defence wins it.