Cheap and Cheerful

A Poem on Grief Humour

Clothes strewn over, books piling up;

Wasting away in a haze,

With emptied bottles in a race,

I wallow in my misery;

As the Ashes of the past scour like a Shakespearean ghost.

Whilst this wilderness of barren hope,

Demure and robust from the grave awake,

A new seed of thought remote,

“How long can you grieve?”

As I add to the sea of wonder,

Tinging it with self-doubt,

Humanity gives a glance and walks away,

Ready to cross the parting sea,

While I miss the chance,

Despite their occasional plea.

Sometimes pushing the old issues,

Riding a newer wave of pain,

Earth and stars dying all in vain.

Yet sprouting youthful vixens who drizzle on:

“Lets start over. Everything anew one must do,”

The biggest cliché of life,

“Don’t be sad. People are poorer than you,”

Thus I embark on a journey,

Travelling to Africa and Asia,

Listening to stories of devastation,

Watching terrible things,

Yet learning not a single thing;

Apparently emerging wiser, older and lamer,

Giving endless speeches on all the vanity,

Of new found meaning,

Making no sense at all-

Consoling myself through hollow conviction,

Hearing every song that touches the sky,

Reading every helpful text under the moon,

Making best-sellers overnight,

The economics of grief never fail to defy,

Recession does a pole dance every night,

The tears of the citizens have dried.

Oh what a bore to whine,

Better to be cheap and cheerful,

And make all the growth online!

Shutting doors to new habit,

That decays like old wine,

Until, a shattering reverie awakens…

A new phase behold!

Like the flooding light in a dark room,

Good or bad, no one knows!

A change nonetheless,

Driving old demons, creating new,

A flurry of force rises from within,

With the first time rigour of youth,

Yet it remains to be seen,

Whether this leads to love or a psychiatrist!

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