not about the boy

my third (and final) child was born before xmas, and i completed the hat-trick of having all girls. some have attributed this to weak sperm, but i see it more of a vocation, allowing me to become over-protective for the rest of my life while living the life of 'martyr to the family' complete with 'dad only' garden shed.

all babies look the same, though of course mine are prettiest...

living in one of the more 'eclectic' parts of york (which can be more accurately bedescribed as full of students, old people and drug dealers/addicts) i'm usually wary of engaging with people i really don't know. however an old couple came up to me and asked if i "got the boy i wanted" when carrying maddie to the car. with a smile and a weary look i laughed that i'd got yet another girl, and did that shrug which suggested that in 10 years time my life would be complete and utter hell (complete with 'not enough bathrooms' and 'scaring of boyfriends' cliches).

however i'm getting more than a little pissed off with people suggesting that i'm somehow disappointed that i've not got a boy, and perhaps - despite not knowing me in any way whatsoever - that we should try again to "get the boy i want"...

i say this with hand on heart, and as truthful as i could ever be, that i'm so pleased with my girls and nothing - nothing! - could make me happier with my kids. girls are brilliant! pass it on...

anyway, i have no poems about kids (for reasons i'll go into next time), so here's one about getting married. i was asked to write a poem for my then-girlfriend's friend's wedding. she didn't use it. shame.

Love and Marriage

Love and Marriage
Horse and Carriage
All pure thoughts
Will surely vanish

Leaves you naked and defenceless
Shut your mouth and fuck me senseless.

July 1994

the real new year

fuck it. new year has officially started today due to it being the first working monday in january. this means that all the shit food i ate last night doesn't count (although conversely all the extra walking i've been doing gives me pre-resolution brownie points that can be redeemed at a later date for beer and curry). it also means that i can clear out all the crap i've accumulated and start to make the list of all lists in the very nice diary bought for me for xmas.

if i tell myself enough times that i really have to change this year, then i'm hoping i'll have the willpower to carry things through. and as a related lead-in to one of my old poems, i have the perfect excuse to show it off here.

I Have Never Had The Time

College education
And exam revision,
Assignment schedules
With earmarked project days.
Books to be read
And attendance of lectures;
These should be filling
University days.

But why should I be unduly bothered,
When I could do just about anything at all?
Slob about,
Have a shower,
Watch repeats on TV;

Pissing time up against the wall.

June 1995

the moon and me

last night i enjoyed a refreshingly different night out with friends, where instead of heading to the pub, we sat stayed at home (or rather, a friends house), ordered pizza, drank beer (which admittedly isn't different at all, but one can't rush these things), listened to music and chatted about stuff and nonsense. with the new year - and new baby less than 3 weeks old - ushering in a hectic time for me, i've been feeling sorry for myself of late specifically regarding my lack of social life and my relationships and interaction with people.

basically i'm paranoid that i'm becoming a different person to the gregarious and outgoing individual i'd always prided myself on being, and i'm sure i'm not the only male in his mid-to-late-thirties that sometimes doesn't recognise the person he's become. my night out/in didn't offer any revaltory insight into my thoughts, or offer any explanations or quick-fixes, but it was much needed after a christmas of enforced isolation, and a pick-up that made me feel like me again.

anyway, i walked there and back ('enjoying' nearly an hour's worth of sorely-needed exercise), with the lager-enhanced return journey being especially enjoyable mainly due to the company of a bright glowing moon 'following' me home. it's a simple pleasure that i hope points to the purity of a poet's heart, and something (along with the sky and stars) that never fails to humble and astound me.

The Moon and Me (unfinished)

the moon reflected, paused, and smiled back down at me
cast adrift in his own inverted ocean
travelling across the sky and seas
drifting slowly upwards gracefully

where do you go? where did you come from?