A Lonely Yorkshireman

The contradicting ramblings of a sodding old fool

Let go

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Love… you sharp and wondrous blade.

You pick me up and carry me
on joyful clouds up high.
You pull me down, you bury me
you’re making my heart cry.

A roller coaster ride is love,
a strange and crazy mess.
Every minute spent with you
is one more minute blessed.

Love is my heaven and also my hell.
It’s driving me crazy
I’m sure you can tell.

I need to let go dear,
your love drives me mad.
It’s mostly a good thing,
I won’t be so sad.

Let go of my worries
and trust you will stay.
Let go of my jealousy
that pushes you away.
Let go of the anger
when you love other men.
Let go… just let go…
let go of your wings.

I hope you will stay dear,
only hope can it be.
I hope you propose dear,
you’re not sick of me.
I need to let go dear,
of the romantic in me.
For he is the one dear,
the root of jealousy.

God only knows,
how hard it will be.
I need to let go,
so you can love me.

Written by lonelyyorkshireman

September 29, 2011 at 11:01 AM

Posted in Poetry

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The point of it all

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The world is not what it seems.
I think we’re being misled.

From the time we can walk and talk
we’re taught about right and wrong.
Some of us work, others will not,
is it all just in your head?

Life is not what it seems.
I think I’m being misled.

Every day might seem the same…
We get out of bed, catch the train,
work as we should and return,
till the day that we’re dead.

I don’t think that’s the point.
The point of it all I mean.

There has to be something more.
Gravity, relativity,
speed of light, dark matter,
endless space, the golden mean…
I can feel it in my core.

What is the point of it all?
We’re born, live, then end?

Is it love?
Are we here to love?

Can the power of love overcome
all the laws and the rules
set by Newton and Einstein
and other great men?

Can we change the future,
the fabric of space and time,
to love, when not doing so
would cause us to end?

Is love the reason I’m here?
Is it why I exist?
Or am I being misled?

Written by lonelyyorkshireman

September 10, 2011 at 9:22 PM

No poem

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I’d like to share a little bit about today with you, whoever you are.

My sister visited me here in England this last week. I’d not seen her
for five years. It was so great having her stay with me. We went round
my local area and also further afield and I showed her many of the
wonderful sights, sounds, tastes and experiences of Yorkshire, England
and Ireland.

She flew back home today. We rose this morning at 04:30 AM to get ready,
take the train to a nearby city where she would board another train for
her final journey to the airport.

Now, first a little back story. The country I grew up in is not one that
condones the idea that a man can cry or have tears in his eyes. Men are
supposed to be strong, take pain and heartache without flinching and beat
the shit out of anyone who doesn’t agree with them.
That’s how I was raised.

At a young age I was forced to do contact sports and martial arts and build
my pain threshold. I was taught that a man never kisses his father, rarely
his mother and greets another man with a sturdy handshake and good eye contact.
Men rarely say the words ‘I love you’. I certainly only tell my parents that
once or twice a year, because saying it too often makes you a “softie”, a “mummy’s boy”.
I’d probably said it a handful of times to my last wife. Not because I didn’t love
her but because I had to be the husband, be strong, not emotionally needy.

I haven’t said “I love you” to my sister for 25 years. Not once.

Today, on that platform she hugged me goodbye. She didn’t stop hugging me.
It weakened my iron will and I felt the words “I love you” slip out of my mouth.

She let go and her smiling face filled with tears. The train doors closed
and she was gone.

Today… I stood on that platform and for half an hour… I cried.

Written by lonelyyorkshireman

August 30, 2011 at 1:18 PM

Posted in Personal

Tagged with

Love-a-tee Bop

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Now listen here you lovely girl!

You have my soul,
I gave my heart
but if you hurt me,
do beware.

You love me, yes…
but doubt me too.
I am not HIM,
THEY are not you!
And this time really is unique.

So “Boo!” to all you doubt and bleugh!

Get over them,
the Johns of old.
I’ve been around the block I’m told,
does that mean I am blind to love?
I’m not!
As you will see my dove.

Sure as my belief in Him above
my feelings have ne’er been so strong.
I’ve loved, I’ve lost, I’ve married too,
not once I’ve longed
to touch, to kiss, to hold
a girl, friend and lover
like you.

Your beak so sharp,
your razor wit,
your awesome mind,
your skin so smooth,
your smile so bright,
your caring heart,
you tear my universe apart!

You float my boat.
You spin my top.
You tease me so.
Oiled lollipop!

So you take care o’er there my pear!
I love you now.
I love you then.
I love you more.
I’ll never stop!

Written by lonelyyorkshireman

August 24, 2011 at 3:11 PM

Posted in Poetry

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Impatientosis

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“Be patient!” she says when I loose my patience,
“We…
will be…
together one day!”
The waiting is driving me mad ’cause I want her.
I fear that another will steal her away!

She’s a flirt you see,
a tease of some skill,
and yet, come what may…
she’s proven she wants me and loves me indeed.

But she’s over tttthhhhheeeerrrreeee
and I’m over here.
It’s a catch 22,
a Pandora’s box,
compartmentally mental,
polka dot socks!

This crazy old life sits rocking
and giggling
and chuckling
…at me!

In two years time,
will she be?
Will we?
Oh please,
please tell,
impatiently yours…
me.

Written by lonelyyorkshireman

August 22, 2011 at 4:00 PM

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Belfast

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I flew into a hilly town
to see you once again.
The city streets were busy with
some redheads and their men.

Not empty as I’d once proposed
but filled with joy and glee.
Is this the ‘right side’ of the street..
I mean, politically?

A weekend spent adoring you.
You bought me champagne and shampoo.
Just can’t believe how fast time flew.
I’m here at work now, without you.

At night we talk ‘cross t’nternet line.
I see you smile, you hear me whine.
I miss you, yes, but don’t despair.
One day we’ll travel everywhere.

A year or so till we are one.
Our future life has now begun.
I’ll see you soon, come stay at mine.
I’ll get the chocolate and the wine.

Written by lonelyyorkshireman

August 2, 2011 at 9:05 AM

Distance

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Blue skies, black,
grey and cloudy every day.
You’re here no more,
but with me still.
You packed your things,
you moved away and yet,
you move me every day.

You’re not just in my memory,
but here in music and in Glee.
My work gets done,
my art moves on.
As far as love…
my heart knows none
till you return to me one day.

I’ll see you soon.
I’ll travel far ‘cross seas of green
to Irish isle I’ve never seen.
The time must pass so quickly quick
that blinking twice will make it be.

Our tale of love and sacrifice
one day be told to little eyes.
At bedtime we’ll be called to bed
to once again recall the tale
of how our wedding came to be.

I yearn to touch your hands and face,
to leave this pale and lonely home
and make a home with you my friend.
But sacrifice will be our friend
till we’re together in the end.
Till day you ask to marry me.

Written by lonelyyorkshireman

July 19, 2011 at 8:45 AM

Posted in Poetry

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