Ello everybody! Spent most of today writing songs and fanfiction, plus marathoning Supernatural (I watched an insanely scary episode last night - with homicidal phantom clowns, and why on earth did it have to be freaking clowns?! - which explains why I was up at 3 in the morning and decided I may as well work on FH since I wasn't going to be getting any sleep. It was quite productive, actually!) Unfortunately, I think my muse sort of burnt out, because when it came to writing this week's Friday Poetry I kind of blanked out on ideas. :P
So instead, here's another poem that I wrote while I was in the US. This one was written at Stanford, after we took a trip to San Francisco (which I think is absolutely beautiful). Actually, didn't go in the original direction I was intending it to, but I do like the way it highlighted the contrast between my friend and me. Do let me know what you think, everyone, and have a wonderful weekend! :)
he lopes along beside me, oh so comfortable, certain in this place he knows so well; he has memorised all the faded scratches, learned all the secrets tucked away within the darkest alleys of the city.
his voice is long, an easygoing drawl wrapped in the cocoon of a place where the people have become faceless and the sounds have become nothing more than background music, a soundtrack to this worn-out cocoon he is almost ashamed to call his home.
but I –
I have seen these buildings only through the eyes of so many countless others, my perception distorted by the blurred lenses that humans have never learned to take off - and here I am at last, eyes wide, drinking in all the sights and sounds of a city so rusted that only innocent eyes could polish it and make it shine once more.
we stand for a moment, he and I, and I know that he is humouring me, unsure how I can see light glinting off the water while he sees only fog muffling the sunlight, but I am too immersed in the wonder of this strange and magical place,
so new to my eyes and so mundane to his.