On the cutest thing I’ve ever seen

A couple of years ago I was having a drink with a friend at the National Theatre, we arranged to meet on the 1st floor gallery and when I arrived I saw my friend standing by the balcony engrossedly filming what was going on below with his camera phone. What he was filming was beautiful.

You see the National had got in a singer and pianist called “The Tango Duo”, who (unsurprisingly) played and sang incredibly passionate tangos (and the female singer? Muy caliente). The amazing thing was the the crowd of very prim and embarrassed middle class elderly gentlemen and ladies crowded around the performance had burst into spontaeneous tangoing. Couples who were clearly in their 50′s, 60′s and 70′s got up and busted out their old dance moves, often with less passion and more amused awkwardness than the singer, but always with a genuine sweetness and enjoyment of the dance.

One couple in particular where adorable. White haired, but splendidly bedecked in matching black and red outfits (the gentlemen wearing especially dashing shiny red and black leather shoes), this couple brought out some steps, kicks and spins that belied their years and they were both so very lost in the dance, as if remembering the steps after many years, and as if they were remembering the younger versions of each other as they did so (or it’s possible they were remembering the other people they’d danced the tango with when they were younger, we weren’t sure).

It was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen.

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Royal Wedding poem

Just a short one here:

The other Friday

Millions of people

I hadn’t invited

And did not know

Turned up to my wedding

Crowded through the streets outside

Cheered and whooped

A cacophony of encouragement

Put pictures of me and the missus

They must’ve got off facebook

On a bunch of garish merchandise

And broadcast the ceremony

Live on national television.

They seemed to enjoy it

But sometimes when I look back

I wonder what all the fuss was about.

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New Poem: Baggage

Hi there guys and gals,

So this is a brand new blog and I’m celebrating its start with a brand new poem that’s likely in dire need of a redraft.

I know I may seem perfect
All beaming with charm and wit
You’ve heard I’ve verve and vim and vivacious-ness
And other v-words, and full of spunk …
Forget that last bit,
But it is a mistake many make
Letting their obvious attraction to me gestate
Like an egg,
And not the cool bird kinds, like an insect egg
Which is about to hatch into something parasitic
And itchy
So natch, you’ll want me,
You’ll gravitate towards me
But take a longer look
Past the debonair air I cultivate,
But once you’ve took a more discerning stare
You’ll see my flaws eventually, this I pledge

See, I’ve got baggage.
It starts with a failed marriage,
Sails on past abandonment issues
That make me scream and sob at night
Which WILL wake you
and I WILL make you sleep with the light on,
Takes a right onto a tendency to cry
That costs a fortune in extra large tissues,
Then coasts on into a fear of commitment
Coupled with the fact I fall in love too fast
So I’ll be all about to shout from the rooftops,
Then promptly freak the frick out
And lacking communicativity
You’ll not even find out
As I won’t find the words to say … those words.

So, yeah, I got baggage
It may be emotional, not physical
But I’ll still ask you to carry it
And I know it’s not fair to unburden myself on you,
I mean, do you look like a baggage handler,
You’ve not got any … florescent vest, or anything!
But I do unburden all over you
And like a brook I will babble in too much detail
Working myself into a right tizz
About the years I spent working in retail
To support someone I’m no longer with
Failing to emerge from my customer service cocoon
Into a beautiful butterfly,
(The butterfly here being a professional writer
If that wasn’t clear)
And you’ll wonder how you can ever compare
To that person, who even though they’re gone
To me is clearly still there
In my mind,
An ever-present phantom
Looming over my emotional well-being.
And that doesn’t even take in my mummy issues,
Older women, take note!

So yeah, I’ve got baggage
And officer, I packed it myself
Never left it unattended
And though it’s totally unintended
It’ll still totally blow
Up in my face
As I commit acts of self-inflicted terrorism
On my emotional state.
It weighs my smile down into a frown,
I’m figuratively stooped and stumbling,
Constantly grumbling,
About how I live in Issue Town,
Population: me
And every ex I’ve ever had
My over-loving mum and my absent dad
And you
If you can’t realise,
That even though I’ve lovely eyes
Letting me climb between your thighs
Where, admittedly, I elicit plenty of sighs,
Is not a good idea.
‘Cos I’m distant like Australia
And prone to fiery outbursts like the outback
I’m clingy like a fridge magnet
But a smidge cold like a fridge
All condescending cold-comfort
My empathy non-existent
I’m creative and eccentric,
But stifled by a fear of abject failure,
I always want a cuddle,
But I don’t want to talk about it,
I mean, God, who are you, my mother?
Just leave me alooooone.

So I’ve got baggage,
But it’s not all doubt, neurosis and pain
It’s made me the man I am today
The way I am and will likely stay
Which is a little unstable
But may mean I’m sometimes able
To see a bigger picture
Which includes little things like you needing a hug
When I don’t really wanna
And you’ll get that hug.
And maybe that makes me a mug,
Giving embraces that aren’t meant
Presenting false sympathetic faces
Giving comfort when it makes me uncomfortable
But I’m able, so I do.

So I’ve got baggage,
But that’s just that much more stuff
I’ve got to draw upon
And maybe true, before long
I’ll worry our relationship’s unstable
And I’ll fear you’ll leave
But believe that I’ll be treating each moment like the last
Treasuring it ‘cos it goes too fast
And I’ll wake in the night screaming,
But I’ll make sure you get back to sleep
And I’ll sit up watching over you
And share your good dreams
Which seems creepy,
But I’ll still sleepily ask
Contritely trying to mask the fuss I made
If you slept well
And you’ll say yeah
Even if you don’t really mean it,
And it’ll seem a fair trade.

So I’ve got baggage
And it’s likely you do too
We’re both stronger for it
For those things we can’t forget
So if we’re together we acknowledge
It likely won’t be forever
But here’s a new pledge
As the baggage’ll still be there,
And we can’t ignore it
Maybe we can get a good deal
If we put it all into storage,
Safe and out of the way, and there if we need it.

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