I wrote this poem in the middle of the night whilst in Kavos recently. We’d been out drinking, toasting to Tess. Commemorating her life, one year since she had passed. This poem, whilst it isn’t necessarily about Tess personally, attempts to harness the attitude she took towards life – an attitude I strive to emulate. This poem is called, ‘Today”.
We sit and watch

the world on a screen.

Putting the world to rights,

over fights and towards dreams.

The dreams we sink into,

never knowing if we do

or say

the right things to the right people on the right days.

‘Cause it’s nice to feel right and it’s right to be nice

chewing the fat, discussing the men and the mice.

Two sips of a rioja

and its anyone’s game.

Placing the blame 

of today

on tomorrow’s gains.

‘Cause today’s pains are yesterday’s mistakes.

The same mistakes that make today’s shame.

Stubbing today’s ciggies in tomorrow’s ashtray.

And today,

would be nicer,

if we were all, a little nicer.

Smile at the postman and tip the waiter a fiver.

It’s sometimes hard,

to be nice,

as we grapple with vice.

The mean things we say

when we should have thought twice.

But tomorrow will still come

and today will arrive.

When the sun and the flowers and the laughter thrives.

Looking at each other across the table and think,

I’m pretty fucking happy that we’re both still alive.

Today’s fun and tomorrow’s regrets.

Tomorrow remembers and yesterday forgets.

So let’s eat toast,

at 3.45.

As today’s drinks end and tomorrow’s hangover comes to life.

Turn on the tv

so we can say our piece.

Entwining our hands,

as tomorrow offers peace.

A piece of knowledge and a slice of truth.

The bitterness of reality and the promise of growth.

Today ends slowly and tomorrow comes too soon.

Blaming our problems on the sun and the moon.

Today is over and tomorrow is next,

and if today is the worst, 

then tomorrow could be the best.


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