Oskar Leonard's Blog, page 2

Living, Memory & Act

Interestingly, the nineteenth entry into my song-inspired poem series (this one!) was inspired both by ‘Lust For Life’ by Iggy Pop, which I’ve embedded below, and also another poem from this series. I’d consider this poem to be something of a ‘sister poem’ to Paper Memories, which was, in turn, inspired by ‘Mess’ by Real Friends. Both of them have memories and remembrance at the core, but I think they explore that theme in slightly different ways, while still being quite complementary to each other, especially towards the end of this one. In any case, I hope you enjoy this one!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Framings of Existence, inspired by ‘Pressure Off’ by Duran Duran, Janelle Monáe and Nile Rodgers

Living, Memory & Act

Living,
and Living.

Memories with motion blur,
now recalled
in a sepia bedroom,
with a smile.

Not caring is a relic,
and a lie: there was always,
always, some degree
of caring–of hoping–
of appreciating
every second.

Those brief flickers
stretch now–naps,
rather than blinks,
bathing in thought.

How was there ever time
to scrawl down written records?

There, the lie again:
care always existed–
the will to document
is testament.

However fragmented,
there was a need,
a little whisper
that one day,
this will be revisited;
that one day,
the memory will be important.

Living is the moments,
and Living is appreciation.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Framings of Existence

This week’s poem marks the eighteenth entry in my series of song-inspired poems, and this one flits a little between the sci-fi and fantasy spheres, at least in my mind. It was inspired by ‘Pressure Off’ by Duran Duran, Janelle Monáe and Nile Rodgers, and hopefully, you find it to be an interesting combination of some different elements and descriptions!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: The Undead Youth Of Today, inspired by ‘Party All the Time’ by Eddie Murphy

Framings of Existence

There are two sides to the brain–
and note, there, the definite:
this is a specific in a lexical fog,
and I encourage and admonish
the taking of the definite
to mean yours.

Let’s compromise–this brain,
a brain, your brain, our brain–
separate it, for a moment.

Set it down on the table,
and observe the glistening folds;
well, imagine them, in any case.

Tell me, what does this collection
of nerves and goop and electrical pulses
really want? And consider only the brain–
here, we are not concerned with you,
but with that organ, that mass,
your constant skull-companion.

Why don’t I start? I know how jarring
sudden questions can be, whether posed
at you or your nervous system.

You see the two halves–outwardly identical,
symmetrical–well, I believe here,
in the division, we see two distinct wants.

One dreams of living among cosmic beings,
supernatural horrors of untellable dimensions
existing in a space we cannot comprehend,
and it wants not only to observe, but to equal;
perhaps it believes it can achieve this, or not,
but that is immaterial; the want is crucial.

And that is the joy of theory, is it not?
It is enough to point your finger, to link
the dots just enough, and to say: go, explore.

But you’re growing impatient, still not quite
up to positing your own imaginations–
but I said there were two, didn’t I?

The other wishes dearly for digital existence,
wherein it becomes a blip in someone else’s code,
able to hide in a classroom of 1s and 0s,
their flickering forms sitting with straightened backs
at tables with particle effects; blink and they’re gone,
the fragility of a system destroyed with one pulled plug.

Now, I never claimed to be performing
a medical dissection, did I? But here
are two framings of existence: go, explore.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

The Undead Youth Of Today

Welcome to the seventeenth entry in my series of song-inspired poems! I will admit, this one has a bit of a dual inspiration – I’ve had vampires on the brain recently (playing through Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines again, haha), but it was also very much inspired by this week’s song, ‘Party All the Time’ by Eddie Murphy as well, so I hope you enjoy this one!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: A Hypothetical Expert, inspired by ‘Werewolves of London’ by Warren Zevon

The Undead Youth Of Today

You welcomed her into the fold, yes–
as was your curse-given right, yes–
I am not disputing from whence she came,
or perhaps better wording would be from whom;
you have made your feelings on that–
the truth, yes, as you have reminded us
repeatedly, on this fine evening–
well, no one can claim your complaint
is at all dubious in its wording,
shall we put it that way?

Traditionally, yes, it would be expected
for the young one to follow the elder;
I am sure we all, gathered here, remember
the years we spent at our elders’ sides,
learning the manner in which to live in nights
that are now long gone–no, I really must protest,
you see, I think this is where the fundamental
issue lies, my good sir, I really do.
We may be eternally unchanging, in many ways,
but the world does not lie dormant at our feet.

Perhaps, if she had been taken under your wing
a few centuries ago, not even a great many,
then she would act as you appear to wish her to–
we may argue over the reasoning for this great change,
this shift in mortal–and immortal–attitudes,
but I fear it shall not lead to a meaningful conclusion,
and, as such, I must lead us onwards–my good sir,
I’m afraid I must demand that you sit and listen,
even if your young one refuses the same command–
Des, do you want to start a blood feud over this?

Now, if we may continue–while we may debate
the issues that the good sir has brought to the table,
I do not think we have the capacity to demand–
well, yes, I do agree, but there are guidelines,
and then there are laws, and the differences–
well, it was your brilliant idea to wait until the 2000s
to bring a new undead into unlife, wasn’t it?
Have you seen the books, the motion pictures?
Is it any–nevermind, that is all besides the point.
Frankly, I’m of half a mind to dismiss this issue–

No, Des, I’m sorry, but if your word and the curse
cannot keep her in your crypt of an evening–
well, I must admit, I am a little in the dark,
if you’ll excuse the humour, on what these…
‘nightclub’ establishments are, specifically,
but if she finds them to be adequate hunting grounds,
then perhaps she should be allowed to attend them,
given that she appears to be maintaining secrecy–
perhaps you should join her, my good sir,
if the matter truly worries you so much.

This world is forever old, and forever new;
to exist within it, so must we be, too.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

A Hypothetical Expert

This week, I’ve got the sixteenth entry in my song-inspired series of poems ready for you to read, and this one takes a bit of a light-hearted look at the supernatural–specifically, the idea of there being ghosts haunting buses. Well, they do make some weird sounds sometimes, but anyway, this week’s poem was inspired by ‘Werewolves of London’ by Warren Zevon, and I hope you enjoy it!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Ghost Words Chasing Their Own Tails, inspired by ‘Paint Me Red’ by Avatar

A Hypothetical Expert

Perhaps there are not ghosts
lurking in the engines of buses–
perhaps you turn away,
when you hear that odd shriek.

Or you explain, patiently,
to the superstitious passenger,
scribbling in a notebook beside you,
that ghosts are not real–

and, you add, with a little upturn
to your nose, and a curl in your lip,
if they were real, which, you stress,
is not and has never been the case,

then they would certainly not
be inside the engines, or chassis,
or any other parts, of public buses–
after all, whoever heard of that?

Spirits mucking about in exhaust pipes;
what next? Perhaps there are fairies
nesting on top of motorway signs,
or zombies clawing through car park concrete.

But now we are sidetracked;
the scribbling passenger pauses,
pen poised, and mildly wonders
where your authority comes from–

did the hypothetical ghosts themselves tell you
they don’t like haunting the bus to town?

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Ghost Words Chasing Their Own Tails

Although my song-inspired poem series has been on hold for a few weeks (sorry – it was my birthday, and then I had a lot of beta reading/proofreading work to sort out afterwards!) I’ve got another poem in the series for you this week. This one is inspired by ‘Paint Me Red’ by Avatar, and takes a slightly more meta approach than some of the other poems in their inspiration, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Where Do You Go?, inspired by ‘BCKYRD’ by Hot Mulligan

Ghost Words Chasing Their Own Tails

Oh… I see–so this pen
is not just patterned,
but it holds the fingerprints
of those who came before–

I understand. I thought,
perhaps, my eyes were the first
to assemble the tangible thoughts
into this particular shape.

But no. It was you,
and it was you,
and it was you–
so many yous…

Running back in time,
over and over, until
the very beginning;
until before we knew

why there had to be
a beginning.

Somehow, it is warm
to know that the path
is not untrodden;
there are footprints,

and they lead, quaintly,
to a discovery, to a tone,
to an assembly of words,
that I always…

assumed to be mine.
But we have existed
for so long, now–
every word is the ghost

of another.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Where Do You Go?

Unlike the last two weeks, this poem is star-free – but hopefully you’ll still enjoy it anyway! This one was inspired by ‘BCKYRD’ by Hot Mulligan, and, oddly, reminded me somewhat of the fantasy poem series I was doing – not in terms of the content, but more the tone that the speaker of those poems uses.

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Nothing Stays The Same, inspired by ‘Notes’ by Modern Baseball

Where Do You Go?

Escape is not always
the stereotypical–
slipping out of windows
at 2am, exploring cities
before dawn, barefoot,
anonymous in shadow,
terrified in heartbeat;

because who has time
to be so interesting?

No, you disappear
into the imagined
and the imagined-for–
for a few hours,
you are lost in
ink, paper, pixels,
every note
and the vibrations
you can’t separate
from your own pulse.

Are you wasting your life,
or feeding your soul?

These four walls will change–
they are not forever,
they are not predestined–
but this spirit,
it will always burn,
and even if the tears dry up,
your heart will still lurch.

If you are breathing,
if you are feeling…

then it is worth it.

Escape, for a moment,
before you’re painted grey,
again.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Nothing Stays The Same

Somehow, between this week and last week, I’ve managed to stay on the theme of ‘poems about stars’ despite writing two poems that feel almost completely different, at least to me. In any case, this week’s poem is the thirteenth entry into my song-inspired poem series, and it was inspired by ‘Notes’ by Modern Baseball – which is embedded below!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: See The Stars, inspired by ‘Attack of the Planet Smashers’ by The Planet Smashers

Nothing Stays The Same

She painted her ceiling
pitch-black; that way,
when she returned, dotting
here and there with white,
each individual star shone–
or at least seemed to shine,
and that’s the important part,
isn’t it?–the edges distinct,
every line unique, different.

Because when the grass was wet,
and they sat by the river,
the smell of burnt practice exams
and smouldering notes thick in the air,
he said it was such a shame
that a million eyes looked up,
seeing the same stars
in such different ways,
but not one could touch them.

Perhaps, he’d said, if we could touch them,
they might not fade when morning comes.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

See The Stars

Welcome to the twelfth entry in my song-inspired poem series! This one definitely veers right into sci-fi (or at least space-related) territory, and was inspired by ‘Attack of the Planet Smashers’ by The Planet Smashers, which I’ve embedded below for you to listen to. I hope you enjoy reading this week’s poem!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Create Your Peace, inspired by ‘Way to Fall’ by Starsailor

See The Stars

Celestial fabric,
or a curtain of numbers,
binary switches, on and off,
tumbling and sliding and falling–
infinite beyond imagination, and you,
you are gliding along in a tin box,
dipping your fingers into 1s, 0s,
the motif of a camera dangling
around your neck–of course,
space has tourists:
here you are.

You had to see it,
witness numeric beauty;
it was not scientific curiosity
that bought your ticket, after all–
you’re here for the show of the universe,
and you’ve paid for the pleasure of a solo trip,
because you’re seeking peace–everyone is,
and you’re successful, for a few years,
left to take your pictures and smile
at the vulnerability of infinity;
you unpick impossibility,
with your human eyes,
unable to resist
temptation
to touch.

Leave only footprints,
and fingerprints,
and the echo
of awe.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

Create Your Peace

I feel like this week’s poem has a bit of a slower pace to it, but it follows in the footsteps of the past few weeks’ poems, which have flittered quite closely around the topic of memories and, in a sense, the creation of a personal history, which is something I’ve written about semi-regularly, so it’s nice to be on familiar ground for a while. This week’s poem was inspired by ‘Way to Fall’ by Starsailor, and I hope you enjoy it!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: In The Corner Of A Nightmare, inspired by ‘My Own Worst Enemy’ by Lit

Create Your Peace

A child imagined heaven–
secular heaven, a perfect world—
in a high school classroom,
setting bitten pen to crinkled paper
on a desk holding carvings recent and ancient–
any time past is historical to a teenager–
and put themself in isolation.

With a word limit and a dream,
they set boundaries in ink–
I will have books, and I will write—
it was not the freedom of clouds,
but the comfort of walls,
personally defined, between the child
and everything outside.

They wanted to breathe,
to sit, to be able to wonder,
safely, about questions and curiosities,
while avoiding sharp tongues and those eyes;
removed from the pressures, the weight
of failure and the cost of letting
anyone see past their walls.

Heaven is preserved in ink,
now, merely an afterthought–
a footnote in the whirl of chaos
that came… after. Not a stain,
it is a beautiful, gentle statement:
pause, and allow the self to flourish;
breathe, and independence will follow.

Connection is everything and nothing–
it is joyous and disastrous,
spiked and welcoming, soft and sharp;
it cannot be lived without, or with,
and it will destroy you–it will make
the child cry, and it will force heaven’s hand,
and feature in every night’s concert–

for better and for worse.

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)

In The Corner Of A Nightmare

This week’s poem didn’t end up quite going in the direction that I thought it would, but nevertheless, I quite enjoyed writing this one. It veered straight into the world of dreams, daydreams and nightmares, and was inspired by ‘My Own Worst Enemy’ by Lit – as with all of the other poems in this series, the song is embedded below if you’d like to listen to it, and you can check out the first and previous poems in this series with the links below!

First Poem In This Series: To Witness, To Behold, inspired by ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love’ by Tears For Fears

Previous Poem In This Series: Paper Memories, inspired by ‘Mess’ by Real Friends

In The Corner Of A Nightmare

…and do you suppose the daydreams don’t fight back,
hm? That they lie, idly, while you shake and sweat
and curl your fists into twisted blankets,
not caring for the mind that they beautify?
For the heart that they indulge, adore, revere?

Turn your gaze! The tip of that arachnid’s leg,
affected by gigantism as it may be, and oddly metallic–
you are an odd one, aren’t you?–is flickering,
and now it’s not piercing through a warehouse wall,
but seeming to dip into the gentle wave of a cloud.

See? For God’s sake, they love you, and they want,
with all the sentience that they don’t have,
to overwhelm the terrifying nonsensicalities
with their life–the others, they have the fear
as the focus, but no, not them. They centre you.

Whether you are celebrated, or respected,
or, perhaps, feared yourself–whether you soar,
inexplicably, or feature in media amalgamations,
or finally say the words you always wanted to–
they are always there, waiting, fighting, for you…

If you enjoyed this, click here to check out some of my poetry collections – free ebooks available as well as print books on Amazon!

(You can also tip me on my Ko-Fi page if you’d like to support an author!)