Anthony J. Langford

Our safe history - Laziness and cliches

Art, like beauty, is the eye of the beholder. Your interpretation is all that matters.

Here's one from the vault, never shared.

F Pencil Life

The sixties were only three things

Vietnam protests, drugs

And psychedelica.

The seventies were only

Watergate, Star Wars and bell-bottoms.

The rush of the eighties

Saw fluorescent yuppies on Wall Street.

Kurt Cobain only had Courtney Love

Grunge and Heroin.

Y2K Mish-mash,

Free-for-all disappointment

Whittled down to summary safe

Dot points

Exploding misinformation

Complexities

And opposing actualities

Let alone undercurrent subtexts

And pre-encumbered sentiments

Coveted

From prior generations.

Your underestimation

Is ensuing.

July 2013

More Poetry

Free downloads, short films, books and more over at my site;

A.J. Langford Books

A teaser for my next post - stay tuned!

Until then,

Peace

Anthony

A very 'Unromantic' Couple Video; The push pull shuffle.

They were young and in love. But what happened with their miscommunication?

The Push and Pull of Life.

In this scenario, it's a couple in the midst of separation.

Listen to the dance of youthful folly in this short video HERE

How does that resonate with you? Have a similar experience? Aren't we all involved in this misunderstood dance, especially online?

Suicide. Some thoughts refuse to die. (Pun not intended)

World Suicide Prevention Day.

Co-incidentally, I wrote this almost on the day itself, one year ago.

Closure

I want to save you

The time

And myself

Of the pitying parlay

And there’s no escaping it

In any regard

Though there’s a temptation

To just get it done.

12.40 am

21.9.23

A year old. No, not a healthy mindset. Yet, one that continuously rears it's ugly face and says, I ain't goin' nowhere. It's been pretty quiet at times down through the years, but it's always been there. Since teenage days.

Ink drawing by Thomas Nast, late 19th century.

Is it better to stay quiet or give voice to it?

I wrestle. I conquer. It inevitably returns. Creative expression helps?

Written a year ago. I'd happily go back to that feeling compared where I am now. To go into detail would be boring.

It is self pitying but I'm desperate really. I'm simply being honest with where I'm at. Sorry but not sorry. Depression (and in my case, severe anxiety as well) likes to have no company. It likes to stay silent. It likes to retreat. It's no fun place to be and I'd rather not be here. I'm fighting though. And I am trying to talk about it. I'm not giving up. But when the fight is within your own mind it's very tough to develop resilience. This is when others come in to help the person through, or in too many cases, doesn't come in and helps create an environment where suicide happens.

Over to you.

More Poetry

A.J. Langford Books

Until next time,

Anthony

I'm right. And they're wrong.

I'm so right.

Democrats - Republicans.

Labour - Liberals.

Russia - Ukraine.

China - Taiwan.

Israel - Palestine.

That 'modern' term, division or conflict, will never end. No one individual or group is responsible for it. If we look within, we see our own contradictory natures. As Bruce Hornsby sung, 'That's just the way it is. Something's will never change.'

I'm right and they're wrong and that's all there is to it.

Summed up in this little video I put together. Resonate for you?

Watch on YouTube HERE.

Making mistakes plus new 'Photo'

Hi,

Here's a new, high quality AI image below I 'created' which represents me as a melancholic, middle aged writer. Impressive technology.

But firstly, how do you view your mistakes? Some refuse to acknowledge that they make any at all.

Here's a little insight into mine.

Mistakes

Like it might be for you

I am more a product

Of my mistakes

Rather than successes

As one far outweighs the other

Causing emotional pain

And therefore self-reflection

So, we can alter our attitudes

To avoid that hurt again

Until the next disappointment.

Success usually prompts a repeat

(It must be a ‘recipe’ after all)

Though rarely do all the pieces

Remain static.

Perhaps I’m being presumptuous

In speaking for you

Or anyone else

When I can barely work it out myself.

All I know

Is that I don’t really know

Or I’d get the balance right

Every time.

I simply know to expect

The unknown

As even mistakes

Aren’t always known

Until afterwards.

They’re simply

Plans of action

Sprinkled (or soaked) with hope

With the outcome

Out of our control

Left to the stars

And the realm of the gods.

13.10.22

5.50 pm

Just prior to the release of my book, Us & Them. (Not in the book).

A.J. Langford Books

She delivered my father, a premonition

Hi,

This is a true story, from the early 80's. In poetry format.

AI generated

(waves finger) Mark my words.

I did not have to try

To not listen to my teachers

They never said anything that interested me

The only words I can remember

Is that ‘if you keep this up

You’ll never amount to a thing.’

Maybe she was right

Poets and writers don’t earn much

If that’s what she meant

And I’m certain she relished her own words

As she told my parents the same thing

In the early days of parent/teachers interviews

When my folks actively participated

In these ego crunching affairs

When there was still a little hope for me.

Exactly a decade later

After I had left school without completion

Securing that teacher’s prediction

(and I’m sure I was not the only one)

My father ran into this same woman

Who gleefully asked him

With wetness inducing anticipation

What had become of his son.

‘Oh, he’s managing an upmarket restaurant/cocktail bar

In one of the most

Prestigious suburbs of London.’

Her chin dropped to her knees

And her crotch hit the pavement

Splat.

And least that’s how I like to think of it

The rest is bona fide solid

Unlike her theory.

2013

A.J. Langford Books

Until next time,

Peace

Anthony

Mental Marathon and Fatigue - (No, not an Olympics post).

Hi,

Do you have...

Compassion fatigue?

dark-art-mental-illness Art by Rivka Korf

If you have compassion fatigue or 'mental health' burnout then maybe skip this. I get sick of my own voice on the subject at times. And there's so much talk about it now. Which is good though there's varying degrees of its intensity. Some suffer more than others. Some are more vocal. Some just want attention. Some think they have problems that are actually fairly light on. Some suffer in silence. Some forge through. Others don't make it. One thing's inescapable though, no one gets a bypass.

This was written in March of this year, 2024.

Marathon

I’m keen to ‘let it go’

Though keener

To have it set me free.

One feeds the other

The Black Dog

Chases its tail

Or in my case

Runs from it.

I can laugh too

At that image

It’s as silly as it sounds

In the same way

That its heartbreakingly pointless.

I’ll take more suggestions

And practice them

As desperation initiates action

Though I’ve heard them all.

Thirty years

Delivers a lot of alternatives

Some of which clearly works

Or I wouldn’t be writing this

At 56.

It’s simply stopped working

The options have dried up

And that circular chase

Is more exhausting than ever.

Only so many sinews

In these old legs.

25.3.24

5.10 pm

It's almost a cliche. But I am very worn out. This year... so exhausting. Five months on, it is worse. I had some sort of breakdown in May/June and I'm still struggling to get back to my normal. Which wasn't fun to begin with but it's preferable to where I'm at. (Anti-depressant issues are a big player. They've screwed me up. Story here).

Sorry to be such a bore. Writing itself feels helpful. And these posts, as brief as they are. I write down something to be grateful for every day. There's always something, even if minor in the scheme of things. We all push on as long as we can.

More Poetry

Here's something nice to end on.

Hope you're doing reasonably well, if not great!