Posted by: Gregoryno6 | December 25, 2019

Ten years charting the unexplored country.

I opened this blog on Christmas Day 2009, and frankly, I’m a little surprised to still be here.

What were my intentions when I first started? Mostly to demonstrate my genius, I think. The less said about that, the better. But over the next ten days I’ll be posting a best-of… no, wait, a random selection of ten posts from each year.

Here again for your delight is my opening post. And again, apologies to Dusty Springfield, Matt Monroe, Michel Legrand, Alan and Marilyn Bergman, Eddy Marnay, and anyone who liked The Thomas Crown Affair (original version).

There’s a recipe for biscuits
There’s a shirt I’d like to find
Einstein was rather clever
Were those three mice really blind?
Little nuisances and niggles
That accumulate each day
Never had a proper girlfriend
Mother’s scared I might be gay
Like a deck that’s lost its aces
Suppositions will unwind
Contradictions and compulsions
Have been specially designed
To impede the flow of logic
Down the backstreets of my mind

If I think therefore I am
But if I am why can’t I think
I’m a captive in a nightmare
Where spaghetti sings like ink
Where the penguins of Calcutta
Wed the kings of Camelot
All the signs ask Am I here yet?
But the map’s a Rorschach blot
It’s a marathon for legless men
A joke beyond unkind
Misperceptions and delusions
Have been cunningly combined
They provide the perfect entree
To the roadkill of my mind

Something’s missing in this puzzle
Find the last piece I can not
All my useless cogitations
Are just running on the spot
Was a time I faced the questions
With the answers in my hand
Then the bastards sprouted wings
And left me chin deep in the sand
In a labyrinth of mirrors
You’ll agree that hope has fled
When the looking glasses mock you
With the back of your own head
Trust the cosmic sense of humour
To abuse me for its joy
God’s a misbehaving brat
And I’m his favourite broken toy

It’s a prison in the shadow
Of a star that’s misaligned
As I struggle with a purpose
That’s remote and ill-defined
Fine print missed but contract signed
It’s a paradoxic bind
At the dead end of my mind

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