At my brother Simon's cottage, I came across a couple of A4 ring binders. They contained dozens of handwritten songs often with accompanying guitar chords. I rifled through those binders hoping to find a few original songs but if there were any there they eluded me. I was also hoping to find original poetry and I managed to rescue this....
A Poem
Sitting in a room all by myself
Studying woodchip and books along a shelf
Studying woodchip and books along a shelf
Making faces and mountains out of clouds
Living in a vacuum moron!
Boredom
Drinking cups of coffee and smoking cigarettes
Pissing it up at nighttime just so I might forget .
On the dole got no soul
Got no goal in a hole
Boredom
A boring little village in the boring countryside
Could take a walk, it's all the bloody same to me
Oh! It's raining again - what a turn up for the books!
Out on the road the sound of boring cars and trucks
Boredom
Boring little men with boring little wives
Boring bloody jobs boring bloody lives
Boring little kids making too much bloody noise
I'd give em all thick ears if I had the bloody choice
Or lock em in the garage and play Motorhead full blast
Poke em in the eyes just for disturbing my
Boredom
Friday night again, wonder what I'll do
Down the pub again to drink until I spew
Least I've got some beer tokens
Or I wouldn't know what to do
I'd just say Fuck it
But it doesn't rhyme
Boredom.
It wasn't dated but I guess it was written a good few years back. There was a time when his weekend night ritual was very familiar. Down to "The New Inn" at eight o'clock. Two or three pints there. Then up to "The Hare and Hounds" for two or three pints before moving on to the village social club for three or four more pints before waddling home for another joint and unavoidable sleep.
There was a lot of loneliness in his life, a lot of aimlessness and frustration and though the poem I have typed out isn't brilliant by any means, I think it captures something of the man he was and how he seemed to live palpably in the shadow of who he might have been.
That is a dark and depressing poem, heartbreaking really. But if he didn't like his life, it was up to him to change it. Poor man.
ReplyDeleteNot all of us are capable of change. The pattern of life once established can be overwhelming for many.
DeleteSounds a little like a cry for help., but sadly no one ever received it.
ReplyDeleteHe had his demons and got lost somewhere along the way. Thanks for reading the poem Bob.
DeleteSic. "The pattern of life once established can be overwhelming[ly boring] for many".
ReplyDeleteNot sure why, but the poem`s end let me think of Charles Bukowski.
Not a poet I know but in repose he had a face like Simon's - a little haunted, perhaps tormented.
DeletePoor Simon. Sorry for you loss, Neil. Sounds like you lost him many years ago.
ReplyDeleteI kept in contact with him though he never phoned here unless he wanted something from me. He was definitely a "drainer". I always saw him before Christmas with gifts and I sent him a birthday card every year. BUt yes he got lost a long time ago Ellen.
DeleteSays volumes, in my opinion. I'm sorry he didn't have a happier life, YP.
ReplyDeleteHe had a happy childhood but then he tried marijuana and cannabis and he was changed - not for the better.
Deleteunemployment can be soul destroying. His despair is palpable
ReplyDeleteHe had two or three significant periods of unemployment. Then he would squeeze money out of our mother.
Delete"Living in the shadow of what he might have been." What a stunning line. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteXO
WWW
Thanks for reflecting on that line WWW. To some degree we all live in the shadows of what we might have been but most of us don't dwell on that and we move on, making the most of things.
DeleteSimon's boredom and frustration with his own life is achingly clear with every line of his poem. Countryside and village may have seemed boring to him (and probably are to quite a few people), while others find comfort in the gentle rhythm of village life and the views, scents and sounds of countryside.
ReplyDeleteBeauty is in the eye of the beholder... just like positivity. What seems stultifying to someone like Simon can be invigorating to someone else.
DeleteIt's quite a good poem though. Is that Simon in the picture? He was nice looking, almost had Paul McCartney eyes.
ReplyDeleteI don't know how old he was when that picture was taken - maybe thirty/thirty two.
DeleteJust like a child who throws itself on the sofa - I am bored, do something about it. Not realising it is up to themselves to address the problem. But the poem caught his frame of mind and he managed to write it out of his soul ;)
ReplyDeleteSome of the real Simon slipped into that poem.
DeleteWhat happened in his life that led him to this?
ReplyDeleteI can hear echoes of my Dad in this poem and I know that it was Mum walking out on us that started his decline.
Simon seems to have just lost hope.
His mind was altered by cannabis/marijuana around the age of eighteen/nineteen. He never fully recovered. There were psychotic episodes.
DeleteThis is so sad and obviously a cry for help. He sounded thoroughly depressed
ReplyDeleteMaybe he was but he was also proud and would not reach out for support, would not talk about his anxieties. "He was alone into his distance, he was deep into his well..." - Jackson Browne.
DeleteHis poem is such a distressing insight into his mindset - so much anger. Was he ever truly happy or content with his lot?
ReplyDeleteAs a schoolboy he was a very happy chappie, good at sport and had many friends but then he tried cannabis and marijuana and became changed. He had a lovely, supportive girlfriend in the early nineties. They bought a house together but it all fell apart after four years. That could have been the making of him but he couldn't hold on.
DeleteIt's amazing to me that two siblings, who share genetics and grow up in the same environment, can turn out to be such different people. It's sad that his life was so unhappy.
ReplyDeleteFour brothers. All so different. Three of us found our places in life and gained degrees of happiness and fulfilment. One didn't. In a sense, life left him behind. Stranded.
DeleteHe probably suffered mightily from depression.
ReplyDeleteThat's very possible though he never once said that he was depressed. He managed to complete a full working life with only two or three periods of unemployment. I praised him for that in my eulogy.
DeleteHis poem was well written. He did an excellent job of describing the dark hole he was in. You did all you could for him, Neil. He navigated life his way and it doesn't sound like he wanted anyone's words of wisdom.
ReplyDeleteHe would not be guided or advised or mollycoddled in any way.
DeleteI wonder what he would think of the world knowing all about his private and rather sad life. I wonder if we write in the knowledge or hope that one day someone will find it. Or perhaps we write for our own satisfaction and escape. I've only ever written happy stuff which no one would wish to publish anyway so I'll never know the answer.
ReplyDeleteHe has passed away so it doesn't really matter any more. I would not have posted this poem before his death.
DeleteSome of us are comfortable in our skin and others not.
ReplyDeleteI think it's a very thought provoking poem. Not seeking approval, just stating his truth.
It might have been written one night when he was feeling low but it does reveal something of who he was.
DeleteIt's definitely a vivid depiction of the way he saw his life, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteIt's not the most accomplished poem but it does speak truly.
DeleteIt can be hard to find direction, especially as avenues close and those remaining are not ones you want to take. So many of us could have ended up in that kind of life. I could, and so very nearly did.
ReplyDeleteBefore you know it you are way past the crossroads and it's too late to turn back.
Delete