Be You

Hello. I have written a thing. I started writing it not knowing where I was going to go with it. Having just read it back to myself it seems to be a love poem to someone who might not exist. Either way it's call 'Be You' and I'd like to share it with you. It goes thusly:

Be You

My lady, I like to think of myself as gentlemanly so I don’t wish to be unsettling, but can I climb inside and be you? Poor choice of phrase. I don’t mean to say that I’m unhappy with my gender; I don’t remember that being one of my fears. Not least because I’m quite attached to this beard.

When I say ‘be you’ I suppose the intended inference is ‘be so close that it makes no difference.’ You see, I don’t like me but you do and if I could be you I might see what you do. I want to see why someone might or might not be with me. See, it’s a mystery. But if I could grow certain things within me and keep others in the shade maybe my hates and fears and loathings would wither and fade away and so give me more space for art and joy and unbridled laughter no longer afraid of who might hear.

 And if I could be you I could know the things that you fear. And then when I’m me again I could help with a chaise longue clipboard and pen and stroke my beard and say “Hmmm, und how does ziz make you feel?” and make your dreams become more real.

 Or, if that doesn’t work I could use bad jokes to while away your days as we sit on beer-stained bar-room couch asking “What sauce do you eat on your chips when you’re in a Frenchman’s house?” The answer’s Maisonnaise. It’s funny because it’s bilingual.

There’s not a single thing I want more than to be close enough that it’s hard to be apart or afar; like the heart of a neutron star. The force of our attraction could fuse our quarks together so that strange and charm seem to be spelt with the same letters so as to be indistinguishable, and our closeness would make a light that’s nigh-on inextinguishable.

Now, there’s a chance that all this gravity could implode and make a black hole, but truth be told that’s quite rare amongst the stars which is what I’m aiming for.

I wonder if I’ve already met you and if I have if I’ve not lost the chance to open up this ark I keep within my chest and forge a covenant with you. If I do do this in the future I hope it doesn’t melt your face off. Because I like your face.

Maybe these people I’ve met are just your shadow on the walls of Plato’s cave. If that’s the case then I say “Bring on the day of our meeting come what may along the way!”

But if I’ve met you or not met you or will never get to meet you, please promise you’ll always be you. Be you, not the person I may have imagined. And if you can, maybe love me after a fashion.

One hopes you're well,
yrs,
ADWoodward

Old Pooh

Hello. My Grandad's favourite poem was Us Two by A. A. Milne. I've written a thing based on that which I'd like to share with you. It goes thusly:

Old Pooh

Wherever I go I think of Pooh

But Pooh’s not here with Me.

Whatever I do I miss old Pooh.

This is great, Pooh’d like it, too!
Dinner and chat and a drink or two

This is a poem for Pooh by Me,

This is a poem for Pooh.

“What’s wrong with the country?” I said to Pooh

(“With what?” said Pooh to Me)

“I think it’s the times and the people, too”

“Just what I think myself,” said Pooh

“You’ll sort it out one day, won’t you?”

And we planned our regime did Pooh and Me,

I planned our regime with Pooh.

“Let’s look for Fleurie!” I said to Pooh

“Yes let’s!” said Pooh to Me.

We opened the cupboard and found a few

“Yes that is Fleurie, all right” said Pooh.

“As soon as I saw the labels I knew”

"That's what they are," said Pooh, said he,
"That's what they are," said Pooh.

“Let’s drink the Fleurie!” I said to Pooh

“All right,” said Pooh to Me

I found some glasses and filled a few.

He wasn’t thirsty so I drank his too.

Lovely old Fleurie and down it flew

A bottle of wine with Pooh and Me,

A bottle of wine with Pooh.

So wherever I go I think of Pooh

‘cos Pooh was dear to Me.

“I’m nice bloke,” I said to Pooh

“And it’s down to you” and Pooh said “True”

I wish you all could have met old Pooh

So please raise a glass to Pooh for Me,

Please raise a glass to Pooh.

One hopes you're well,
yrs,
ADWoodward