By Aaron Furman

 

Did you know I write poetry part 2

 

I am in the midst of D&AD, building a new portfolio and having to prepare for a client presentation tomorrow. So here are so poems, that you could say I did earlier.

 

TLS Singlex film camera 

 

I have no control,

clicked, snapped and tinkered,

at the whim of the man behind my metal. 

My focus used, 

to highlight his world. 

Passed from generations, 

a relic when hands touched, 

my body heavy, 

coarse and cold. 

Scared of being replaced by digital magic. 

I’m disposable on the inside, 

my features unavoidably degradable, 

born from a past time,

when upgrades weren’t the normality. 

Vintage to some, 

I found new life. 

For I am authentic,

my quality still used. 

Swept away,

this lens found brilliance,

my world is brimming. 

The memories will last,

lifetimes have passed,

and yet,

I am relevant.

 

 

I lost 

 

So, I didn’t win.

Oh well,

on to the next thing. 

I’m now free to choose 

where I want to exclude, 

I’m free to leave,

or stay in my hive,

or float like a bee. 

My life is more than one moment; 

it’s every moment, 

a collection of good and bad,

of the hailing, 

of the failing 

or the sweet nectar of success.

Both are needed in the recipe, 

of every fulfilled life. 

You learn more failing once, 

than doing nothing, 

and being a dunce. 

So I’m not on the naughty step,

I’m in the halls of life’s debt, 

to one day exceed and succeed.

So I’ll choose a new direction, 

on this earth, 

and in all its forms. 

Once again, 

the world, 

is mine, 

once more. 

 

Empty Jar

 

I am empty.

Newly made from manufacture,

sand twisted to rigid.

A colourless imperfection.

I’m filled with a vacuum,

only light passing through.

Irrelevant until filled, 

with more than a reverberation of a flick. 

I need substance.

To be made whole,

with precious commotions

and love infused potions. 

I am lost as to my use.

Hoping for more, 

then mismatched buttons 

and trapped butterflies.

I want to be more!

But what does that mean?

An endless light for midnight summer dreams,

or exquisite spices galore.

Maybe homemade strawberry jams

or a collection of sentimental pieces. 

It hasn’t quite found me, 

my part that is missing.

But I know where I’m heading 

So, I’ll fill myself up

with these dreams of more,

and now 

my jar is empty, 

no more!

 

Life will be fair

 

So I wanted to write 

another poem about life, 

how we share and care, 

and cry in despair. 

We tear and dare, 

to defy our humble beginnings, 

from earthly wonders, 

to out of space premonitions. 

So we live and learn,

better for it, 

in the knowledge, 

that all is right, 

and that time and space, 

will cause it all to be laced.

What’s meant to be, 

is written in your, 

own personal melody. 

What will happen will be, 

that’s a brilliant thing to see.

So beat along to your drum, 

find your hum,

hug your mum,

isn’t that fun?

So dance like you don’t care, 

and trust me, 

life will be fair.